Ari Reviews: Every Day

Buying this book instead of a paperback version of John Green's

The Fault in Our Stars proved to be quite a good choice. Though

about P525.00 (around $13-14) of my savings were spent, I can

definitely assure you that this book was worth the cash.

So, I introduce to you David Levithan's Every Day.

Spoilers may lie ahead, click the read more to move on.

Started: 1.26.13
Finished: 1.27.13

Thank You!

Seriously though, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. <3

It was just so amazing to start the day seeing the pageviews!

Alright, so initially, this blog was just for my scattered ideas.

But when I started posting what I wrote and seeing the stats...

I'm very shocked to see that people from different counties

actually read what I do! It's very touching, and I get all giddy 

when I think about it. c: 

It would be great if you guys checked out my tumblr, too!

Though not a place for writing, all of you can join me as I

fangirl over the craziest things, from books to television.

But that aside, seriously, thank you.

Pageviews may just be a number, but that's

partly what keeps me going and updating.

Ari Reviews: Les Miserables

             

 Hello, and good evening! A few nights ago, I recall watching Les Miserables for the very first time. Not the Broadway or such version, but the film one that was recently released. Now, I had some pretty good expectations for this movie. My friends had been raving about it online and offline, and after finally getting a copy of the film from my friend, I sat on the bed, turned on the laptop, and finally watched the movie everyone's been talking about.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, here is my review on Les Miserables. It's my first time to do such a thing, so please bear with me. Now, onto the review!

Note: There WILL be spoilers. Don't read if you would not like to be spoiled.
Also, historical inaccuracies can be told through the comments section. 

Something's Bubbling.

So, a good morning/afternoon/evening to all my readers! Arianne Maxine here, and I'll be posting plans for things I'll most likely be posting within this month to February that are completely not related to my usual posts of lit, fanfics, and such. Watch out for the following posts! 

• A Review on Les Miserables: Oh dear Lord I definitely plan to do this. ver since I've watched it last night, I've been itching to do at least a small review on what I thought of, from the casting to the soundtrack itself. This will be my main priority. EDIT: Completed! 

•  A Rant on the High School Caste System: Something that's been bubbling up in my mind ever since the start of the year. This will be purely opinion and experience based, so if your views don't match it mine, keep in mind that this is seen from my own point of view, alright? EDIT: Completed!

•  Recommended Movies and Such: Still tentative, as I'll have to be listing down movies I've already watched. I'll most likely be putting down five to ten movies, with short summaries, why you should watch it, and who would definitely enjoy it (like, the action-lover, etc). 

•  Recommended Artists and/or Bands: Self-explanatory! This will be coming from my iTunes, mind you. There are possibilities that bands/groups from the 80's and/or 90's would appear. Again, this is a tentative plan. 

That's all! I'm hoping to get the Les Miserables review by this weekend, so watch out for that.

The Aftermath

I have successfully finished 

the 30 Day OTP Challenge!  

First off, the maker of the challenge is ericandy 

of tumblr. For those willing to see the full list 

of the challenges, this is is the link.

Secondly, for those wondering,

The OTP I used are:

Arianne Maxwell [OC]

Mail Jeevas [Death Note]

Mail Jeevas and Death Note are not mine.

Arianne and the OTP are merely what belong to me.

...actually only 1/2 of the OTP.

Because Matt isn't technically mine...

Anyway, I plan to focus more on my projects.

Such as: Royal Flush, In Cost Irae, and Hysteria.

Look out for those soon! 

Aaaand Royal Flush has its own blog.

Day Thirty: Hot

Day Thirty: Wednesday

Thirtieth Challenge: Doing Something Hot

When Matt cheerfully announced that morning that they would be going to a hot spring and resort that was two hours away from the city, he was met with a panicked yell in German. A had come out of the bedroom, waving folders stuffed with papers associated with work, telling him that now was not the right time to pack, get in the car, and speed off to the resort. Though it sounded pretty tempting to her, the thought of going away even for as long as a day stressed her out. There were cases to get to, meetings to attend, clues to analyze and coffee to drink. She protested against leaving with such short notice, until Matt took away the folders, rested his hands on her shoulders, and told her that he had already asked permission from her superior. She gave him a pained look and he offered his phone, telling her to call Matsuda just to confirm. And so she did, arguing with him at least for a few minutes until he ended the call. A handed back the phone to Matt silently, looked at the folders for a few seconds, and set them on the nearby table. With that, she finally went back to the bedroom, and he swore he could hear her panic about what to bring. Womanly things.

They departed the house at noon, having eaten a good lunch. The car was packed and the windows were locked as well as shut. A closed the lights and locked the front door, inspecting the house for a good five minutes until she said that they could go. Grinning, Matt led her into the car, got into the driver’s seat and whisked them away. For a good two hours, he drove and sang to some rock songs from the 90’s, tapping his fingers against the wheel to the beat of the music. A, on the other hand, did her hair carefully (settling with a simple braid eventually) and lightly applied make up, even though Matt gave her a look and told her she looked brilliant even without the added powders and such.

The drove across, and Matt was pleased at the lack of traffic. A eventually drifted off for a good hour, and woke up to him kissing her on the cheek. They had arrived at the resort, and as usual, A was dumbstruck. The place had differed from the last one they travelled to, which admittedly, was a long while back. He carried their bags (after refusing that A would carry her own) and checked in, snippily calling out the attention of the man who checked out his girlfriend’s legs, for she was in a sleeveless white top and red shorts. She blushed and scowled at the man, and was soon wheedled away by Matt, who had the key to the room. They had asked for someone to bring the bags to their room.

They left the check-in area and were led out, and they eventually reached the house where they were staying. The couple soon settled in and ended up cuddling on the couch of the Westernized house, similar to where they lived yet different at the same time. Turning to his girlfriend, Matt pecked her cheek and nuzzled her neck, smiling softly.

“So, what time do you want to go to the hot springs? We’ve got a week to spend here, just you and me…also the water, that is.” She chuckled and laced their fingers together.

“Anytime is alright with me.” He paused to think.

“Don’t drown on me, though, baby. I might have to supervise you in the hot springs…” she blinked and looked at him with a confused look on her face.

“Supervise? Love, don’t the males and females go into separate springs?”

He smirked slightly.

She understood.

“Matsumoto?”

He confirmed it by snorting and waving a letter he took from his pocket in the air. She took it, unfolding the paper and scanning the text written by the Englishman’s friend. Written in was a letter to the management, asking for them to have a private hot spring to themselves. There was a staple mark left behind, and she looked at him questioningly. Matt could only chuckle, and she decided not to press any longer. Knowing the man, it was probable that there was a large sum of money involved.

“Anyway, love, let’s make this trip worthwhile.” He kissed the top of her head and stood up. “Since you told me that the hot springs could be gone to anytime, how about we go there now? I’d like to see you relax, for once.” She blushed yet again and rolled her eyes, but secretly looked forward to the event. “And love – you can wear those, just bring an extra set of clothes. No bathing suits.”

“…no bathing suits?”

Matt doubled over in laughter.

* * * * *

They reached the hot springs, Matt carrying a small bag with the needed clothes in it. Winking, the Briton only told her that he would meet her in the springs. Panicked, she asked where they were, and he calmly replied that the springs were just there if she opened the door in front of her. Nervously, A asked what to do first, spotting all the signs in Japanese. Matt internally facepalmed and told her only the following:

To wash and rinse well, and to carry a towel with her. After that, he kissed her lightly and went to the other room, most likely wanting to give her privacy. She snorted at the thought. It wasn’t like they had never bathed together before.

She did just as told, stripping down and scrubbing her body in the shower cubicle. After doing so and carefully washing, she stepped out, wrapped her body in the towel to dry and realized it was stupid – she would be getting wet anyway, why bother? So she instead covered herself up with the towel, walked to the door, and stepped out to the springs.

A was stunned.

The springs held the perfect view of the sky, which was starting to darken just the slightest bit. Rocks made sure no one would fall off the edges, forming almost a rounded rectangular shape around. There were a right amount of plants, particularly trees, which shaded a small area backed up by flat rocks. She guessed that she and Matt would most likely stay there for the time being. Glancing around to make sure no one was there, she slowly discarded her towel and folded it, then set it on one of the rocks by the surface. Slowly stepping into the water, she sighed softly in relief at the warmth and went in until the waters reached her shoulders. It wasn’t so bad – she was surprised to find elevated rocks even underwater, by the edges as well, that acted as seats for people.

Waddling around, she tipped her head back into the water and let the water submerge her hair. Another sigh of relief came and she slowly looked back up, her hair now hanging down her back. Waiting for Matt to come, she decided to do a small swim around, despite feeling silly about it.

Her hair was tied up in a bun after her frustration at the strands getting in her view. Sinking down to wet her face, she shut her eyes and stayed there for a few seconds until looking back up. Rising from the waters, her face flushed pink.

Matt grinned at her, his hair damp as well as his sculpt chest.

“I expected to see a young woman relaxing, not a kitty testing the waters,” he teased.

She pouted at him.

“Shush. Let’s pretend you didn’t see that happening.” Matt smiled, unwrapping the towel from his waist and folding it, setting it on top of her own.

It took all her self restraint to not stare.

He stepped in and wrapped his arms around her, and Matt gently played with her hair. She turned to him and smiled faintly, slowly bringing them to the edge of the hot spring. They leaned against the flat side of the rock and he sighed softly, kissing her cheek and she then leaning her head into his neck.

“I like this a lot,” she murmured softly.

“I like it too.” He rubbed her shoulder slowly. “Up for a massage, lovely? I’m not sure if I want anyone from the service touching you, not after the creep who stared at your legs a while back.” She snorted.

“I can always get a female massager.”

“Mm, true.” He continued rubbing her shoulders, slowly working his way around and then onto her back. “But I like it more when I’m the one who massages you.”

She smiled.

“Maybe we can skip that part and go to the spa I saw a while ago on the way here.” Matt wrinkled his nose and made a face.

“Spa?”

“Spa. Probably get a manicure, a pedicure too if I’m up for it.” She wiggled her toes. “And then get some hair treatment, a facial, even…” she smirked playfully up at the man, who was astounded at her sudden planning.

“You’ve certainly warmed up to this place, haven’t you?”

“I like the services displayed.” She giggled at his facial expression. “But I like your services more and you know that very well, love.” Matt blushed lightly at that comment. “It doesn’t require payment, and even throws in a cuddling at the end.”

He laughed, pulling his beloved closer.

“Talk about my services more and I can throw in a hot cup of tea, if you wish.”

“Maybe later.” She closed her eyes and snuggled up against him, the heat of the water calming her down. “Mm…we have a week here. Maybe I can get all those treatments much after.” She felt him wrap his arms around her, and she sighed happily.

“Escape from the city life, yeah?”

“Definitely.” She opened her eyes and kissed him lightly on the lips. “And I’m going to make a lot of memories here with you.”

He grinned, satisfied. “I love you.”

“And I love you too.”

Day Twenty-Nine: Sweetness

Day Twenty-Nine: Tuesday

Twenty-Ninth Challenge: Doing Something Sweet

Author’s Note: I’m sorry if this isn’t my usual style.

I just watched Les Miserables and everything really hurts.

Let me just say that Eponine is the best ever I swear.

NOTE: I was able to write this on the assigned day, but not post. ^^

Arianne couldn’t believe Matt. She frowned and put her hands on her hips, tsking at the man in bed with a high fever. Her boyfriend smiled up at her weakly, a thermometer in his mouth and a wet cloth on his forehead. “I told you dancing in the rain wasn’t a good idea,” she scolded him. “And you were worried about me being the one getting sick…you’re ridiculous.” She pulled a chair and sat down by the bed, watching him groan softly in discomfort, the thermometer lolling about in his mouth.

“Why aren’t you sick, darling?” he managed, groaning a little more. “You danced with me yesterday…God, everything’s so cold and I’m under two layers of thick blankets. I’m sweating bullets.”

“Hush, you.” She took the thermometer out of his mouth and frowned. “You’re hitting forty…Christ, love. I’m not sick because I had an umbrella. And that’s your body’s way of fighting the fever.” She took away the cloth, wet it once more, and carefully put it back on his head. “I told you, you shouldn’t have danced…now look at you, sick in bed with a fever because of the bloody rain.” Her green eyes rebuked him, but the man knew that deep down, she was worried for him.

“Mm…” he chuckled weakly and smiled once more. “You’re adorable when you’re all maternal, baby. Maybe I should get sick more often.”

The disapproving look didn’t waver.

“Don’t you even try. Now don’t speak and rest up, I have much more work to do…” her gaze lingered on his sick form. “But I can’t do it now, obviously, because of your fever…goodness, love.” She sighed quietly and pecked the top of his head. “Rest up. I’ll make you a cup of tea, just how you like it. If you even try to sneak out of bed I will push you under the shower and make you have a cold one, I swear to God.” After giving him one last look, she stood up and walked out of their bedroom, to the kitchen to make the tea.

Back in bed, Matt merely chuckled and peeled off one of the blankets slowly. A strong gust of cold air hit him and his teeth chattered, and he pulled the blanket back on himself. It had been a while ever since he had been that sick…he shifted a little and found the right position, he sighing in relief. But it was true, though. Seeing her all worried and flustered all over him made the man smile.

In another room, Arianne prepared his tea as well as a light snack, a small sandwich. She could hear his groans from the room and she sighed, shaking her head. Matt was too reckless – not that she didn’t enjoy it – and his fever was his punishment for it. Picking up the small plate which had the cup and the food, she slowly made her way back to the room, where he was quietly waiting for her, still in bed and looking up at the ceiling. She smiled slightly at the sight.

“Matt? I have your tea,” she called softly, stepping into the room and setting the plate onto the table next to the bed. He grinned at the sight and attempted to sit up (which ended up with her scolding him and helping him sit up), leaning over to kiss her cheek.

“You’re amazing,” he told her with a wink, helping himself to the tea. She sat and watched as he slowly sipped its contents, a satisfied look appearing on his weary face. “You’d make a great mother, baby.”

Her face flushed scarlet.

“H-Hold on, I-I think that’s going a bit too far,” she stammered.

Matt laughed.

“Remember what you told me, love?” he looked at her with a catty smirk. “You told me you’d like to have my babies.”

“Y-You told me that wasn’t real – Matt, are you serious!?”

Her face was so red now, it was hilarious.

“Hey, I don’t mind.” He set the cup down and suddenly pulled her close, her lips nearing his. She could only gape at him with wide eyes and reddened cheeks. “You would make a great mother, lovely. I don’t even doubt that thought.” Seeing her hesitate, he kissed her fully on the lips, forgetting about his sickness momentarily. She protested for a moment before finally giving in, letting her hands run through his red hair and her lips lock with his own tea-stained ones for a few seconds before pulling away.

“If you get me sick, you’re taking care of me.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” He winked. “As long as it includes spending time with you.”

True enough, Arianne had caught a fever the next few days.

Day Twenty-Eight: Ridiculous

Day Twenty-Eight: Monday

Twenty-Eighth Challenge: Doing Something Ridiculous

Heather hid behind the doors that lead to the orphanage garden, peeking outside every once in a while. Her fingers tugged at her red skirt, eyes anxiously watching the two boys outside, though her gaze was fixed on one. A light blush lit her cheeks as the ginger boy grinned and laughed at his blonde friend, the latter yelling expletives at his companion. Heather bit her lip lightly and wondered if she should step out and pretend to read, but put that thought down. It would be obvious if she just sat on the porch and read, her real intentions would be easy to find out unless both of the males were rather dim.

But that couldn’t be.

They were on the list, they couldn’t be slow.

Quietly, she stepped outside, a book resting in her hand. She quickly made her way to a white chair and sat down, lifting the book up and opening it to the dog-eared page. Nervously, she started reading, occasionally looking up to see if he had noticed if she was there, meters or so away from them.

Heather felt a small slip of disappointment upon seeing that his back was turned. She heaved a soft sigh and just decided to read, her green eyes skimming over Shakespeare’s words left and right. She turned the page and read, though she knew the passages by heart.

It was only when Romeo came to Juliet when she looked up once more. But at the sight, her eyebrows furrowed and she stood up, dropping the book on the coffee table and not bothering to pick it up. She moved forward and stood on her toes, wondering what the commotion was about.

There was Linda, her brunette hair in braids and wearing a simple navy blue dress. She pointed at the ginger and said something she couldn’t understand. The other kids laughed and the blonde flushed angrily, but the other boy merely blinked in innocence and suddenly embraced the blonde tightly, grinning and saying something that sounded like confirmation.

The other kids gasped and Linda smirked, her hands on her hips.

Only then did little Heather understand what her friend said next.

“Well then, so I guess you have no interest in anyone else?”

She couldn’t believe her ears.

But what he replied made her heart stutter.

“Yeah – I mean, why would I?” he pressed his cheek against the Russian’s, the blonde named Mello protesting vividly. “He’s my little Melly-Welly and no one else’s.” Matt Jeevas grinned proudly at this, obviously going along with what Linda had started, but to Heather, she completely took it the wrong way.

“Gah – let go of me, you sick freak!” Mello said, outraged, but Matt refused to. The ginger leaned in and whispered something in the blonde’s ear, making him look at him with a look of disbelief. “Are you freaking serious?”

“You know I’m serious when it comes to you, lovely.”

She had enough.

Heather swiped up the book and ran back inside the orphanage, not wanting to hear anything else. Her trembling hands held on to the book, and everything she had witnessed, she wanted it to be false – fake – just a rumor.

Unknown to her, Matt was just playing along with Linda’s fake accusation. Once the other kids had gone away, Mello pushed his friend off and glared. “What the hell was that about? Do you want them labeling us as a gay couple now!?”

“Chill out.” Matt gave a laugh. “Linda’s terrible. I played along to make her happy, besides, not everyone’s going to believe that crap, you know.”

“Both of you are terrible.” Mello replied with a growl. “But she’s a little witch, a wretch. I’ll give her that. Maybe I’ll set off rumors about her and Near – hah! Then it would be a win-win for me! Linda would freak and Near would get troubled because of it!” Mello laughed victoriously, but Matt had something else on his mind.

Was that Heather?

“Mello,” he tried, but the blonde was now walking off, formulating a plan. He sighed, looked back inside, but decided to follow his friend anyway.

He thought he saw a flash of her black hair, but shook it off. Perhaps it was someone else. But…if it really was Heather, did she hear the whole thing?

Damn.

So maybe Linda was a wretch.

* * * * *

The whole thing between Heather and Matt was a fiasco. Some would even call it ridiculous, but the thing was; only the two of them knew it.

Except one did not know what the other was doing.

Both of them tried talking to each other when they could, but it would always end up with them chickening out. Their gazes would come across in the halls, but Heather would look away and walk elsewhere, leaving Matt confused.

This went on for years, at least until Heather moved out of the Orphanage and elsewhere. However, the male couldn’t keep his thoughts off her. When he grew older, though, he focused on other things. But the memory of the little girl with black hair and green eyes would come back occasionally.

Until they came across each other, that was, on the one fateful night in Tokyo, Japan. He was shocked to see her much taller (but not as tall as he was), slimmer, and different from his perspective of her as a child. Shy, smiling Heather had changed into cold, silent Heather – and she didn’t even go as Heather anymore. The half-German discarded her middle name and kept it only as a middle name, and used Arianne instead. Her eyes were still green, but icy. She didn’t smile when they first met in the warehouse, but he could tell she was surprised – and so was he.

After that event, the incident when they were children started once more.

She chased him throughout Tokyo.

He hid from her grasp but chased her as well in secret.

It was a game of cat and mouse. 

Day Twenty-Seven: Birthday

Day Twenty-Seven: Sunday

Twenty-Seventh Challenge: On One of Their Birthdays

He swallowed nervously and picked up the box of chocolates that he bought the day before. It was nothing simple; it was just a small silver box with ten small treats inside. It took him nerve to sneak out and buy the package at the nearest store, and keep them away from his best friend nonetheless. But he had made it, he had the treat, all he needed to do was muster enough courage to leave it by her bedroom door. Matt touched the box, feeling the shiny and smooth silver wrapper and the red bow that wrapped it up. His anxiety nearly killed him; every cell in his body yelled at him to just leave it by her door.

But it wasn’t that easy.

He didn’t know if she was still asleep or already out of her room, he didn’t know if someone would pass by the box on the ground and steal it. Immediately his hand scrambled for the felt-tip marker on his desk as well as the small piece of paper that lay below it. In his hasty script he wrote:

Heather,

Happy Birthday!

-        A Friend

That seemed to fit.

He had hesitated on how to sign himself. Should he use his real name? A code name? Finally, he decided on ‘friend’ and signed. Matt smiled, proud at the note and the gift, and stepped out of his room with the gift in hand, the paper snuggly fit under the red ribbon of the box.

He walked to the stairs and headed up, knowing exactly where her room was – not that he stalked her or anything like that. Mello had always dragged him around the orphanage, going everywhere and pointing to the different doors and telling him whoever was lived inside. He could remember the blonde Russian sneering at Near’s door and shuddering at Beyond’s. Mello gave a respectful nod at A’s and then passed by the dark wooden door with the number 428 on it, and stopped moving for a bit.

“I forgot who was in here,” he muttered. Matt eyed him blankly.

“Boy?”

“No, ah – Linda. Linda and…” he struggled to pin her name. “…that girl who plays the piano and doesn’t really talk.”

Matt tried to remember any one of the sort and frowned himself. Who was this girl who shared a room with the talkative painter named Linda? And how did she take it? The girl must have had a lot of patience to begin with.

“She’s German, as far as I can remember. Or half.”

“You remember her nationality but not her name,” scoffed Matt. Mello whacked him on the head. “OW – what the bleeding hell was that for?!”

“I’m trying to remember, ass. Okay, now I do. Her name is Heather. She’s the black-haired girl who doesn’t interact with anyone else.”

“Heather…” Matt paused.

So that was her name…

Luckily, Mello did not seem to notice his stopping and dragged him away, ranting about Near (again) and his plans to take over the ‘little shrimp’ who stood in his way (again).

Matt stopped in front of the same wooden door and pressed his ear against it. He could hear someone rustling in bed, and he guessed that it was her. Linda was always up bright and early, usually downstairs at the Art Room to paint whatever was on her mind at the time.

He held the box in his hands and looked down at it.

He wondered if the brunette girl remembered her friend’s birthday.

At that thought, he heard the person inside get out of bed. A small groan came as well and he panicked, dropping the box in his anxiety. It made a loud noise when it hit the floor, and the ginger-haired boy swore rather loudly.

“Bleeding hell!”

“…is someone outside?”

“Son of a gun,” he muttered, quickly fixing the box neatly on the floor and stumbling off, by the staircase where he could see her, but her not see him. He held his breath, twiddling his thumbs and watching silently as the door slowly opened, her poking her head out. Her long black hair was in a single ponytail, looking like it was curls. That was unusual, her hair was straight. Perhaps it was because of how long it spent its time in a bun…

“…a friend?”

She picked up the box, and Matt had the urge to casually come in and greet her. But if he did, then she would probably know it was him. He swore once more and watched, seeing her eye it with a curious expression on her face. Maybe he should greet her. He cleared his throat and strolled casually, giving her a smile.

She jumped a bit at his sudden appearance.

“Is that a gift?” he asked in all innocence.

She seemed to narrow her eyes at him.

“Yes, it is. Would you know who it’s from?”

She showed him the paper and Matt squinted at it.

“No…must be from one of your friends.”

“It can be.” She shrugged, preparing to go back inside her room.

Matt called out before she could.

“H-Hey, er…” he mentally facepalmed at his stutter. “…is it your birthday?”

Her closed-off looked seemed to melt away at his guess, most likely in shock.

“Yes…” she looked down at the chocolates, and then at him. “…the note says that, obviously.”

“Just asking you know, since the person who gave that might have been wrong,” he laughed nervously and then managed a smile at her. “Happy birthday, then.”

She smiled back.

A little.

Even so, his heart sped up a little more.

“Thank you.”

Day Twenty-Six: Marriage

Day Twenty-Six: Saturday

Twenty-Sixth Challenge: Wedding

The small group of people watched as the two held hands, some holding their breath in anticipation and some others were smirking amusedly at the sight. Ari bit her lip gently, gazing at him with a small smile on her oval-shaped face. Matt’s gaze turned teasing, and they gently pressed their foreheads together. The veil fluttered over their heads, shrouding both of them as they stayed in that position.

In Cost Irae

The horrified detective couldn't believe her eyes.

All the testimonies were contradictory.

Every single one of them either lacked a detail - 

- or held a false one. 

She just didn't know what.

"This can't happen," she stammered, eyes scanning over the paper.

Every single testimony...

Why did it have to contradict? 

"I can't believe this," groaned the woman.

She could smell failure a mile away.

Day Twenty-Five: Gazing

Day Twenty-Five: Friday

Twenty-Fifth Challenge: Gazing Into Each Other’s Eyes

You are my everything.

She can remember those words that left her lips and travelled to her lover’s ears. She can remember the way he smiled, how he grinned joyfully and lifted her up into the air. A small sigh of contentment leaves her lips, and her eyes sting. She blinks once, and then twice. So full of emotion, she feels. It was like everything she wanted and needed was right there in front of her, ready to be run into.

The feels naked under his intense gaze, the way those burning blue eyes bore into her own green ones. A red flush lights her cheeks and a smile of his own graces his lips, and she knows that she would be able to kiss them soon enough. It was time to be patient. It was time to slow down and think, to relax and merely look into his eyes.

So much love.

“I love you,” she mouths to him. The man’s smile turns brighter, if possible.

“I love you, too.”

Memories cross her euphoria-laced subconscious. Memories of them fill her up, leaving her with an exhilarated sense of bliss, of seventh-heaven. So many of those memories, tangible and enough to leave a sweet taste in her mouth. Her lips tremble, but not in fear or hesitation. It takes a lot of determination for her to not scream loudly and yell out how she felt for the man, for the beautiful, flawless man she had in her life.

And she knew he felt the same about her.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

I love you.

She lists a mental memo of everything she enjoyed about him. She enjoyed that smile, that half-smirk that made her shiver unknowingly whenever he flashed it. Her heart melted when he laughed, when he winked, when she was taken into his strong arms and held to his firm, sculpt chest. She lets out a shaky breath. His scent, his voice, and his accent that made her go crazy for him with every word he spoke.

How his lips moved, tongue rolled whenever he said her name. Whenever he would recall an amusing memory that involved him as a child. How he would comfort her if she woke up in the middle of the night with tears cascading down her ashen face. The way he teased her endlessly, and his amusement at the sight of her tolerating it.

How his eyes lit up with vivid senses and emotions.

The bluest of blue.

She sees his hand twitch and sends him a teasing grin. Matt gives a roll of his eyes and waggles his eyebrows, as if asking her to hurry. The grin shifts into a coy smirk and she merely continues, wanting him to stay there and bloody well wait if he had to. They waited for years. Couldn’t he wait for minutes, seconds even? The impatient look on his face was adorable to her. A soft laugh leaves her lips and he hears, and the man pouts. She pouts back.

She could almost hear his thoughts.

You look so beautiful, his eyes tell her.

You are, too.

This is about you.

Gather up some humility. Another smirk crosses her lips. It’s about you, too.

Stop twisting my words around, love. She spots his tongue sweep over his upper lip. I might have to twist you around once we get some privacy.

It takes all her self restraint to not snort and blush madly.

I’m not complaining.

You better not.

But of course, all these words that came from him were orchestrated in her own mind. Ari sighs and gives her head a light shake, her mental self a small slap, telling herself not to be silly. She could feel it, though, the feeling of his eyes stuck on her, watching her every movement, each breath she took and each blink she made.

I really do love you.

She did.

Ari moved and took his hand.

Matt’s eyes were too beautiful, too enchanting – just blocked by damned veil.

He spotted her irritated look and gave a laugh, his hands moving to slowly lift it up.

The lace that separated their gazes was gone.

Brilliant green gazed into a burning blue.

His hand gently ran down her back, admiring how the dress fit her perfectly. She blinded him, but in a good way. The white she wore only made him want her to belong to him even more.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmured.

“So are you.” His hands took hers. “Shall we begin?”

She smiled, and nodded.

At once, another voice came.

But neither of them were afraid for what was to come.

This was what they wanted.

“Mail and Arianne – today you enter as individuals, but you will leave here as husband and wife.”

It began. 

Day Twenty-Four: Making Up

Day Twenty-Four: Thursday

Twenty-Fourth Challenge: Making Up

“Ari, you really need to make up with him.” Said the Japanese, slipping a mug of coffee into the woman’s hands. She didn’t reply, staring sulkily at the television screen.

It had been a week since she came knocking at his door, tears silently sliding down her pale face. He immediately took her in and she burst into more tears, crying and shaking as well as blaming herself for whatever had happened. Once he had gotten her to calm down, she explained the situation to him (while trying to remain calm) and eventually ended up sobbing once more, hugging her knees and burying her face into them, trembles rushing through her body.

Touta Matsuda could only gather an argument between her and Matt, with him calling her expletives and eventually her slapping him, and then walking out. It clearly took its toll on the young woman, who refused to have Touta mention anything about her currently ignored boyfriend. When asked if she knew where he was, she clammed up and told him with a cold expression, “I don’t care”. However, he knew she meant otherwise.

She obviously still cared, catching her looking dejectedly at a picture of the two of them in her phone. Ari then mumbled something about a text from Peters and kept her phone, and as Touta left the room, he thought he could hear her sniffing and asking herself why she had to be so dependent and clingy. Making her go to work wasn’t as hard as it seemed to be, as she would get up before him (she told him she’d take the couch and he refused to let her sleep there and then she said something about gentlemen or such) and have a cup of coffee with a light meal before going to HQ herself.

He had a feeling she needed time alone.

He respected that.

This gave Touta a chance to drive by the house where Ari lived, and he took notice of a black car sitting in the driveway. He could only conclude that the car was indeed Matt’s, and that he didn’t quite have the heart to go out. As he drove away, he swore he caught Matt looking outside the house with a hopeful look. At the sight of a simple car going to the city, however, all hope seemed to leave and he went back in.

“Eight killed in a shootout,” she said (mostly to herself) and Touta caught the off-topic reply. He frowned, sitting beside her with his own mug in hand and his warm brown eyes sticking to the screen as well. “Suspect arrested.” He stayed silent, letting her speak to himself (and to him, but he wasn’t as sure). “That’s odd. No one told me about that today…weren’t we assigned to do anything about it?” she asked.

“Another division took care of it, A.”

“…ah.” She sighed and slowly drank her coffee, then went to the kitchen, saying something about sugar and cream. Touta watched sadly and then stood up. She had to make up with him. Not that he didn’t like her with him, but it was that she was just so upset and it was really unlike her to see her that way. He walked to the kitchen and saw her mixing in the sugar, and then gently asked her to sit.

She did so without complaint.

“Ari,” he started slowly, watching her. Her face was blank so far. “Have you thought of reconciling with Matt? Even once?”

“No.” her voice was clipped.

“Why not?”

“He called me a whore who slept with you and Peters while he was gone, he said he couldn’t stand my alcoholic tendencies and he called me ungrateful.” She glared down at the innocent white mug. “How would you feel if you had a girlfriend and basically called you an ungrateful, cheating and unstable drinker?”

“Indifferent. I have no girlfriend.”

“Haha.” Her voice leaked with sarcasm and bitterness. “Very funny.”

“I’m serious, though.” He frowned yet again, watching as she idly stirred her coffee. “Come on, Ari. If you feel bad about this, then how do you think he feels?”

“Satisfied with himself.” She looked away. “I bet he’s glad I went away.”

“Don’t think of it like that…let’s look back. How did he react when you started to leave?”

“He didn’t stop me.”

“Before that.”

“Ari, wait –”

“…he told me to wait.”

“Wait?”

“Wait.”

“Then what happened after that?”

“I slapped him.” He blinked.

“You…you slapped Matt?”

“Right cheek. Felt damn good doing so.” She snorted. But through that seemingly uninterested look, he could see it in her eyes that she was upset, still hurt over what had happened. She bit the bottom of her lip and ran a hand through her hair unconsciously, soon gulping down the coffee in that moment of silence.

“Listen to me, Ari. You need to make up with Matt.” She was about to protest, but he went on. “Really, how do you think he feels after saying that to you? Do you really think he enjoyed seeing you cry?” he gave her a hard look. “If you slapped him and he wanted to harm you, he wouldn’t have let himself just get slapped just like that. He let you do that to him. And if the whole thing is hurting you, then imagine how he felt when you just walked out of the house.”

Memories crashed.

She saw and remembered.

Waking up and seeing he was gone with no explanation. Traces of him disappeared, and the house seeming like he never lived there in the first place.

She thought of her situation.

Leaving in front of him, coming while he was gone to take important belongings. Having him sleep alone on the bed, having him cook for one – was he even eating? Not bothering to communicate and it had already been a week since she stomped out, angry and too controlled by her emotions to care.

“…I see,” she said softly. He reached out and patted her shoulder.

“You need to make up with him.”

“…tomorrow?”

“Today.” Another look. “No more delaying.”

* * * * *

Matt let out a shuddery breath, tugging at his hair and staring at the front door. No one had come in or out ever since she left, and the anticipation was killing him. He wasn’t even sure on where she was. He had asked Matsumoto to track her down, but the Japanese refused and told him to find out himself.

He didn’t have the heart to come out of the house. Shame ate at him and he groaned, remembering every single detail of that fight. How angry her voice was, how the tears ran down her face, how hurt she looked and how her reaction was multiplied as he stared into her green eyes. He tried bringing her back, but the slap on the cheek stopped him.

He was right.

He was a bastard.

As he was about to stand up to pick up another bottle of vodka (that came from her liquor supply), soft knocks on the door echoed throughout the room.

His blood froze, and his breathing caught.

Matt’s eyes widened.

Another knock, impatient.

The man got up and walked slowly, dislodging all thoughts of Ari away. It was Matsumoto, maybe, telling him off in person. Maybe it was a delivery guy for something he bought online and forgot about. Maybe it was a girl scout wanting him to buy some cookies. Maybe it was –

“Took your time,” Ari scoffed, crossing her arms. But the bite in her words wasn’t there. A slight tremble wrapped her words, a hesitation, a slight edge contained with fear. There she was in front of him, wearing wrinkled clothes and carrying a white backpack most likely containing her things. She didn’t dare look at him, and he understood why.

In a flash, she was in his arms.

Matt didn’t say anything, and neither did she. They just remained there, at the doorway, he fiercely holding her in his arms and she doing nothing but close her eyes and slowly take in his scent. He smelled of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

“B-Bastard, I told you to f-fucking stop smoking,” she stuttered, but the last word was caught in her throat. All emotions took over and her legs gave way, Matt gently supporting her as she broke down and cried in his arms. She cried about many things. She cried about him. And all he could do was run a hand through her hair, soothing and rocking her gently, eventually lifting her up and carrying her to the bedroom, not wanting her to see what he had done to the living room.

She punched him weakly, shaking her head and cursing. But instead of cursing him, she cursed herself, unable to say anything else as she slowly stopped. Matt gently held her and kissed the top of her head, holding her close and murmuring soft words into her ear.

Once she stopped, he sighed and looked at her.

The mark of the slap was still there.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, but he silenced her.

“No, I am.” He looked away. “I’m sorry, Ari. I really am sorry.”

“B-But I slapped you…”

“You had perfectly good reason to.” He smiled weakly. “It’s nothing.”

“I left you.”

“I know.” He looked back at her. “Please, Ari. Don’t do that to me.”

The next thing they knew, the process was repeated, except with her assuring him and him on the verge of breaking down. Ari held him tightly as he shook, listening to his incoherent words and promising she would never leave him again.

“I’m not leaving.”

And it was just like before.