Sora woke slowly.  She tended to sleep quickly and wake gradually.  Even before she’d drifted from that twilight world to consciousness, she knew she was refreshed.  The nap had been no more than ten minutes.  Any longer and she’d have been groggy, any shorter tense.  With a sigh, she started to stretch.  Then she sensed she wasn’t alone.   Curious, she turned her head and looked at Jungsoo.

“Hello.”

He saw no remnants of the anger in her eyes, nor was there any coolness, that sign of resentment, in her voice.  Even the weariness he’d sensed in her briefly had vanished.  “You didn’t sleep long. Though I don’t know anyone who could’ve slept at all in that position.”

“For a ten-minute session, I can sleep anywhere.”  She pointed her toes, tensing all her muscles, then released them.  “I had to recharge.”

“A decent meal would help.”

Sora put a hand to her stomach.  “It wouldn’t hurt.”

“You barely touched anything at lunch.”

It didn’t surprise her that he’d noticed, only that he’d commented on it.  “Normally I’d have gorged myself.”  Reluctantly, she slid her feet to the floor.  The gap in her robe shifted, and absently she tugged at the lapels.  “We are wrapped for the day, aren’t we?  There isn’t a problem?”

“We wrapped,” he agreed.  “And there’s a problem.”

The brush she’d lifted paused halfway to her hair.  “What kind?”

“Personal.”  He rose and took the brush from her hand.  “Every day this week I’ve watched you, listened to you, smelled you.  And every day this week, I’ve wanted you.”  He took the brush through her hair in one long, smooth while in the lighted mirror, his eyes met hers.  When she didn’t move, he drew the brush down again, cupping the curve of her shoulder with his free hand, “You asked me to think of you.  I have.”

Too close to the surface, Sora warned herself.  Her emotions were always too close to the surface.  There was nothing she could do about it.  “Every day this week,” she began in a voice that was already husky, “you’ve watched me and listened to me be someone else.  You might be wanting someone else.”

His eyes remained on hers as he lowered his mouth to her ear.  “I’m not watching anyone else now.”

Her heart lurched.  Sora would have sworn when she felt the jerk of movement inside her .  “Tomorrow – “

“The hell with tomorrow.”  Jungsoo let the brush drop as he drew her to her feet.  “And yesterday.”  His gaze was intense, a hot green that had going dry.  She’d wondered what it would be like if he allowed any emotion freedom.  This was his passion, and it was going to sweep her away. 

If she hadn’t loved him..  But, of course, she did.  All caution whipped away as met his.  There was a time for thinking, and a time for feeling.  There was a time for withholding, and a time for giving freely.  There was a time for reason, and a time for romance.

All that Sora had, all that she felt, thought, wished, went into the touch of mouth to mouth.  And as her body followed her heart, she wrapped herself around him and offered unconditionally.  She felt the floor tilt and the air freeze before she became lost in her own longings.  Her lips parted, inviting; her tongue touched, arousing.  Her breath fluttered, answering.

She was firm, as he was, yet softer.  Feeling the hard length of man against her, she became completely, utterly feminine.  The pleasure was liquid, passing through her as warmed wine.  As his grip tightened, she melted further until she was as pliant as any man’s fantasy.  But she was very real.

As he’d watched her on the set, he’d wanted her.  When he’d come into the room to see her sleeping, desire had assaulted him.  Now, with her yielding, vibrating with emotions he could hardly name, Jungsoo needed her as he’d never needed anyone.  And had never wanted to.

Too late.  The thought ran through his mind that it was too late for her – too late for him.  Then his hands were buried in her hair.

She smelled faintly of lemon from the cream she’d used on her face, while her hair carried the familiar fragrance of light uality. The thin material of her kimono swished as his hands parted it to find her.  And she was softer than a dream, but so small he had a moment’s fear that he would hurt her.  Then her body arched, pressing against his hand so that it was her strength that aroused him.  With a sound that was more of surrender than triumph, he buried his face against .

Even while her mind was floating, Sora knew she had to feel the texture of his flesh against hers.  Slowly, her hands ran up his sides, drawing up his sweater. She followed the movement, over his shoulders, until there was nothing barring her exploration and nothing to stop her sensitized skin from meeting his.

When he drew her down she went willingly.  As her back rested against the littered sofa, she cupped her hands behind his head and brought his mouth back to hers.  The tasted of his passion rippled through her and lit the next spark.

Not so passive now, not so pliant, she moved under him, sending off twinges of excitement to pulse through both of them.  The sudden aggression of her lips was welcome.  The kiss went on and on, deeper, moister, while two pairs of hands began to test and appreciate.

He could feel the frantic beat of her heart under his palm.  When he pressed his lips against her , he felt her shudder.  The outrageous desire to absorb her ran through him as he began to draw in her variety of tastes, now with his lips, now with the tip of his tongue.  Sometimes, some places, it was hot, others sweet, but always it was Sora.

As he touched, tasted, took, so did she.  If he became more demanding, she responded in kind, keeping pace with him. Or perhaps it was he who kept pace with her.  She with those long, elegant fingers so that he knew what it was to be on the verge of madness, and within sight of heaven.

She wanted nothing more than what she could find in him.  Flares of fires tormented her as he filled and moved inside her.  His hair brushed over her skin and that alone excited her.  Flesh grew damp with passion and the struggle to control – the struggle to prolong.  Sora learned that pleasure alone was a shallow thing; but pleasure, when combined with love, was all.

Sora felt as though she could run for miles.  Her body was alive with so many sensations.  Her mind leaped with them.  She lay beneath Jungsoo, tingling with an awareness that radiated down to her toes and fingertips.  With her eyes closed, her body still aligned with his, she counted his heartbeats as they thudded against her.  Letting her lashes flutter up, she smiled.  His hand was laced with hers.  She wondered if he were aware of it.  He’d wanted her.  Just her.

Contentment.  Was that what he was feeling?  Jungsoo lay sated, drained, aware only of Sora’s warm, slim form beneath him.  With a sound of pure pleasure, he turned his head in to .  He felt as well as heard her gurgle of laughter.

“Funny?” he murmured.

Sora ran her hands up the length of his back, then down again to his waist.  “I feel good.  So good.”  Her fingertips skimmed over his hips.  “So do you.”

Shifting slightly, Jungsoo raised himself on one elbow so that he could look at her.  her eyes were laughing.  “I still don’t know what I’m doing with you.”

“Do you always have to have an intellectual reason?”

“I always have.”

Sora wanted to sigh but smiled instead and went for a kiss.  “I defy the intellect.”

That made him laugh, and because he was off balance, she was able to roll him over.  With her body slanted across his, she stretched and nuzzled into his shoulder.  Jungsoo felt the crinkle of paper and the rumple of cloth beneath him  “What am I lying on?”

“Mmmm.. This and that.”

Arching, he pulled a crumpled pamphlet from under his left hip.  Absently, Jungsoo glanced at the pamphlet about abused animals before he dropped it to the floor.  He tugged at another paper stuck to his right shoulder. A halfway house for misused women.  Curiosity piqued, he twisted a bit and found another. Homeless, abandoned children.

“Sora, what is all this?”

She gave his shoulder a last nibble before she rested her cheek on it.  He held several wrinkled leaflets.  “I suppose you might call it my hobby.”

“Hobby?” He put his free hand under her chin to lift it.  “Which one?”

“All of them.”

“All?”  Jungsoo looked at the leaflets in his hand again and wondered how many others were squashed beneath him.  “You mean you’re actively involved in all these organizations?”

“Yeah.  More or less.”

“Sora, no person would have the time.”

“Oh, no.”   She shifted, folding her arms across his chest for support.  “That’s a cop-out. You make time.” She tilted her head toward the papers he held. “Those innocent animals, do you know what’s done to them, how it’s done?”

“Yes, but – ”

“And those abused women, Most of them come into that shelter without any self-esteem, without any emotional or financial support.  Then there’s – ”

“Wait a minute.” He let the papers slide to the floor so he could take her shoulders.  How slim they were, he realized abruptly. And how easily she could make him forget how delicately she was formed.  “I understand all that, but how can you be involved in all these causes, run your life and pursue your career?”

She smiled.  “There are twenty-four hours in every day. I don’t like to waste any of them.”

Seeing that she was perfectly serious, Jungsoo shook his head.  “You’re a remarkable woman.”

“No.” Sora bent her head and kissed his chin.  “I just have a lot of energy.  I need to put it somewhere.”

“You could put all of it into furthering your career,” he pointed out.  “You’d be top box office within six months.  There’d be no question of your success.”

“Maybe.   But I wouldn’t be happy with it.”

It was back; she felt it.  The doubts, the distrust.  With a sigh, Sora sat up.  In silence, she picked up her kimono and pulled it on.  How quickly warmth could turn to  chill.  “Because I need more.”

Dissatisfied, Jungsoo took her arm.  “More what?”

“More everything!” she said with a sudden passion that stunned him.  “I need to know I’ve done my best, and not just in one area of my life.  Do you really think I’m so limited?”

The fire in her eyes intrigued him.  “I believe what I said indicated your lack of limitations.”

“Professionally,” she snapped.  “I’m a person first.  I need to know I touched someone, helped somehow.” She dragged both hands through her hair in frustration.  “I need to know I cared.  Success isn’t just a little gold statue for my trophy case, Jungsoo-ssi.”  Whirling, she yanked open the door of her closet and pulled out her street clothes.

As Jungsoo sat up, the papers beneath him rustled. “You’re angry.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” With her back to him, Sora wriggled into her briefs.  In the mirror, Jungsoo could see the reflected temper on her face.

“You’re favourite question.” Sora flung the kimono to the floor, then dragged a short-sleeved sweatshirt over her head.  “Well, I’ll give you the answer, and you’re not going to like it.  You still equate me to her.”  she flung the words at him; as they hit, he too began to dress.  “Still,” she continued, “even after what just happened between us, you still measure me by her.”

“Maybe.”  He rose and drew his sweater over his head.  “Maybe I do.”

Sora stared at him a moment, then stepped into her jeans. “It hurts.”

Jungsoo stood very still as the two words sliced into him.  He hadn’t expected them – their simplicity, their honesty.  He hadn’t expected his own reaction to them.  “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Stepping closer, he touched her arm and waited for her to look up at him.  The hurt was in her eyes, and he knew it was the second time he’d put it there.  “I’ve never been a particularly a fair man, Sora.”

“No,” she agreed.  “But it’s hard for me to believe that someone so intelligent could be so narrow-minded.”

He waited for his own anger to rise, and when it didn’t, he shook his head.  “Maybe it’s simplest to say you weren’t in my plans.”

“I think that’s clear.” Turning away, she began to brush her hair methodically. Hurt pulsed from her still, laced with anger.  It never occurred to her to rely on pride and conceal them both. “I told you before that I tend to rush into things.  I also understand that not everyone keeps the same pace. But I’d think by this time you’d see that I’m not the character you created – or the woman who inspired her.”

“Sora.”  She stiffened when he took her shoulders.  He could see her fingers flex on the brush handle. “Sora,” he said again and lowered his brow to the top of her head.  Why did he want so much what he’d cut himself off from?  “I’ll hurt you again,” he said quietly.  “I’m bound to hurt you if I continue to see you.”

Her body relaxed on a sigh.  Why was she fighting the inevitable? “Yes, I know.”

“And knowing that, knowing what you could do to my own life, I don’t want to stop seeing you.”

She reached up to cover the hand on her shoulder with her own.  “But you don’t know why.”

“No, I don’t know why.”

Sora turned in his arms and held him.  For a moment they stood close, her head on his shoulder, his hands at her waist.  “Buy me dinner,” she requested, then tipped back her head and smiled at him.  “I’m starving.  I want to be with you. Those are two definite facts.  We’ll just take the rest as it comes.”

He’d been right to call her remarkable, Jungsoo thought.  He pressed his lips to her brow.  “All right.  What would you like to eat?”

“Pizza with mushrooms,” she answered immediately. “And a cheap bottle of Chianti.”

“A huge one – with mushrooms.”

With a half laugh he tightened his hold.  He was no longer sure he could let go.  “It sounds like a good start.”

* * * * * 

Had to edit and write this note. LOL! I only realized after I published the chapter that it has already been a year since I posted this. Happy anniversary! Hahaha

An average of one chapter a month. Kkkk~