NEVER BROKEN: A SailorMoon Fanfiction

The Paintings and the Prince

AN: This is an earllier version of the previous chapter. 

"Are you even real?" He seemed to be asking himself.

"Well, if you are, then I guess I have to be, too," she whispered almost breathlessly.

"You are so beautiful." It was painful not to touch her face despite her nearness.

"Should I say the same for you? You're even more beautiful." She lowered her gaze, gasping at her audacity.

He laughed. It was such a rich sound and she felt insulted.

"You pay the dearest compliments, Sweetheart."

"Don't call me that." She could not deny that the endearment touched her heart and she turned her back on him before he saw it in her eyes.

She moved a step back when her father suddenly appeared and saw them.

"There you are. I see you two have met already," he concluded.

"Not really, Father," Serena replied, unaware of the change in the man who was charming her a while ago.

"So, she's your daughter," Serena heard the man say. Her father moved closer to her and put an arm on her shoulders.

"Nice to meet you," she murmured to the handsome man without lifting her eyes.

"Surely, you could do better than that, Serena," her father admonished.

She felt ill at ease. Her father had never acted this way before. "I don't know," she defied him.

She felt him stiffen beside her. He withdrew his arm and was talking now to the man in front of them.

"Ah, Darien..."

Serena's eyes widened in disbelief. Could he be the one the women at the stairs were talking about? The infamous CEO of ACE AUTOMOBILES? The same man who almost made her forget her name a while ago.

A song played in her mind.

You've got

The most unbelievable blue eyes

I've ever seen...

"I apologise for my rudeness, Mr. Lawson," was her formal attempt at politeness.

So she knew me, Darien thought grimly. She deliberately set me up to follow her here.

"Please, let me show you around the house," Darien noted her say in a voice reminiscent of blue waters in a peaceful lake he'd been to. "Excuse us, Father," she continued. She stepped outside the balcony without looking back, as if expecting him to follow.

With a slow glance to the girl's father, Darien turned upon his heel.

She was easy to find inspite of her smallness. Her beauty stood out, and so did the way her body gave justice to the silver-blue gown she was wearing.

"Serena."

She stopped in her track but dared not look at him. Her father said that the Lawsons were going to help their business, but the decision rests on the success of tonight's meeting with her father. To think that what happened in the veranda would pass as flirting...

What could he be thinking?

"Why the sudden coldness?" He moved to her side.

"Nothing. I just didn't want you to think that..." She looked up to find him waiting for her words. That what? That she was throwing herself at him? Or that he might be thinking she did it because he could help her father? she thought. "Could... could you forget our first meeting?"

He must be thinking that their interlude was coldly schemed.

"No," he answered unperturbedly.

"I see." She could not explain the pang of disappointment in her chest. So he could not or would not forget it. She might as well act like her usual self.

She looked away and started moving to a dimly lit passage. There were only chosen guests there. They were almost alone.

Serena stopped before a huge painting and felt him settle beside her.

"This piece is a Kaioh."

"Perfect." There was no emotion in the compliment.

She giggled despite herself, her predicament temporarily overlooked.

Darien looked above her head. She heard her father call him by that name.

"I'm sorry." She cleared her throat. "Kaioh Michiru is probably the best modern Japanese painter." She paused to look at her companion's dark head. He looked so attractive in his suit. She shifted her eyes to the painting immediately. "I see you don't believe me. But I really love Kaioh's pieces."

"What's this one called?" he asked, obviously not a Kaioh enthusiast.

"Perfect." That was why she thought it was funny. He unintentionally guessed the name of the painting.

She thought she heard him exhale sharply. "I think this is the most enigmatic of Kaioh's works. See that crescent move over there? Almost unnoticeable, doesn't it? Sometimes, I feel like she put it there especially for me. And the roses below, several times when I look at my mother's garden, I think that they're identical. Oh, you should see the gardens." She turned to him excitedly.

Though his eyes were intent on her, there was not an inch of eagerness that she could detect from him. "Another time perhaps," she dejectedly said.

"What's wrong with now?"

"You mean it?" Hope.

"Lead the way." Anything. For you.

"My mother had a green thumb."

"Had?" He noticed the shine the wet grass added to his shoes.

"She died years ago. Cancer."

"Forgive me."

"Please, don't apologize. It's a long time ago. I've cried enough. And she had been very happy." She continued walking, with him following with certain steps.

She cut a tall red rose from the bushes, using scissors that must be residing somewhere nearby. Darien watched as her lashes fanned the creamy skin below her eyes while she put the flower under her nose.

Serena suddenly opened her eyes and extended the rose toward him.

"Here." He seemed unsure whether to take her seriously.

"Are you usually this forthcoming?" he demanded.

"Almost always," she smiled. "Are you usually so distrustful?"

"Am I?"

"It doesn't matter. I always tell myself not to trust people so much but my actions always get the better of me."

He accepted the rose she was offering, taking care to brush his fingers against hers, and was surprised at the electricity he felt because of that innocent contact.

She was blushing.

"I don't recall meeting your brother," he said.

"He's not here, that's why. He stays with my grandparents—on my mother's side, most of the time," she explained. Her father had been an orphan for years.

"Does he look like you?"

She shook her blonde head. It glittered like gold under the moonlight.

"He's such a brat. I miss him, though."

"You remind me more of a Lenai painting."

"I also collect Lenais... prints, I mean. Which one?" she asked, suddenly pleased, and she had not a clue why.

"Beauty."

To his surprise, she laughed.

"The title of that painting, my prince, is TRUTH."