Enchantment #18: Secrets
421 words
AU

Disclaimer: I don't own SailorMoon, it's characters or plot. I'm just doing this for fun.

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“Makoto…” He stumbled over the words, “I-love-you,” causing the blush on Makoto’s face to return with a vengeance, a bright crimson hue tinting her cheeks.

After Nephrite managed to get over the initial shock of actually having spoken the words he’d kept secret for what seemed like forever, he smiled at the reaction Makoto was giving him. For one who was so sure of herself when she was out on the streets and in school, she was quite befuddled right now. Her chapped lips were slightly parted, her fathomless emerald eyes wide in shock as she tried to digest what she had just heard. He lifted a hand through his brown hair, a habitual gesture that made Makoto more at ease - it assured that this wasn’t just a daydream, as it usually was; too good to be true.

She lifted her head to stare into the brown eyes that were taking in her reactions, his expression soft and gentle as he waited for some sort of reply. She found it hard to believe that it wasn’t some sort of joke, as Jedite and Nephrite had often teased her about the boyfriends she had. Even though she was reputed as the toughest girl at their school, had a fiery temper that got her into trouble, and a passion for asserting herself and never being the first to back down, she had found a few that could keep up with her in the sense of her aggressive behavior. However, they’d all fallen by the wayside, but none in a cruel or vindictive sort of way, she was still friends with her ex’s and talked to them on a daily basis, as they all attended the same school, but that never stopped Jedite and Nephrite from making fun of her.

“Y-you sure?” That was possibly one of the worst things she could’ve said, and she cursed aloud, rather colorfully, causing Nephrite to chuckle.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Makoto scooted closer to him, as he sat up, propped on his arms as he leaned back, still painfully aware she hadn’t given him a straight answer, and beginning to doubt if telling her about his secret affections had been a good thing. A soft weight rested on his shoulder, filaments of hair brushing against his neck; he didn’t need to turn his head to know it was Makoto. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt for a moment, plucking at a stray thread, before replying in a hushed whisper.

“Well, I love you too.”

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