My Beautiful Lady -part 2

An AU romance. A sequel to "My Beautiful Lady" - what happens after Une and her former student Quatre start dating.

The lady of his dreams was reclining on a couch, wearing a flimsy blouse of pale golden silk and a tight leather miniskirt with dark stockings that showed off her long shapely legs. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders like a chocolate waterfall. Her soft brown eyes were warm and inviting.

"Une, my love, my dearest."

Quatre knelt before her, and reached out to the front of her blouse. The tiny buttons seemed to melt in his fingers, and the soft fabric fell away, revealing smooth creamy shoulders and the curves of her perfect breasts underneath a black lacy bra.

He cupped her breasts with both hands and kissed the smooth skin just above the lace. Then his hands were on her knees, slowly sliding up her stockinged thighs, hiking up her skirt. The stockings ended in a band of lace, held up by garter straps. Quatre let his hands roam further, and with a jolt realized that she wasn't wearing any panties.

Her lips were pressed against his ear.

"Quatre.." she moaned softly, "..."

A loud obnoxious blare drowned out her next words.

"What?"

Quatre opened bleary eyes and slapped the alarm clock beeping by his bed, then he groaned.

He was covered in sweat, and his shorts were uncomfortably tight. He lay there for a while, wondering if he could go back to sleep and reenter the dream, but it seemed to fade away even as he tried to recall its details, leaving behind a vague sense of frustrated longing.

He finally gave up and got up to take a shower and get dressed.

We've been dating for nearly three months now, thought Quatre. Isn't it about time...?

In truth, he didn't really know how to proceed. He and Une had been seeing each other every other day for three months now, usually in the evenings after he would get off work and she would return from a nearby University where she took classes during the summer.

They would mostly listen to music and talk, or Une would study for her classes while Quatre watched her and read a book. He liked watching her while she studied. Her brow would furrow in concentration. She would perse her lovely lips. How he loved to kiss those lips.

So far, kissing was all they had done.

But he felt an energy building between them every time they touched, like an electric charge that refused to dissipate. He wanted her. He was sure she wanted him too.

Later that evening, he was with Une in her apartment, enjoying a quiet game of chess. Chess was one of the few games in which Quatre could consistently beat Une. She took her defeats gracefully.

"I think we should sleep together," he said abruptly, doing his best to sound matter-of-fact and nonchalant. He desperately hoped Une would not laugh at him.

She seemed a little taken back by his sudden pronouncement, but she did not crack a smile. With a thoughtful expression she turned her gaze back to the chessboard, frowned, and moved a knight.

"Checkmate," she said.

They played another game after that, and when they were finished it was quite late.

"I guess I should head back home," said Quatre wistfully as he put away the chess pieces.

"You don't have to leave," Une said. He looked up to see her leaning against the doorway leading to her bedroom. Her expression was carefully neutral, but Quatre thought he sensed desire lingering behind her eyes. She drew her fingers through her hair in a singularly seductive gesture. Quatre nearly dropped the chess set.

She took him by the hand and lead him to the bedroom, which he had never seen before. It was decorated in a similar color scheme as the living room. The four poster bed that took up most of the room was covered in a deep blue spread.

"I'll slip into something more comfortable," said Une as she turned toward the adjourning bathroom.

"No, wait!" said Quatre. "Let me undress you."

Une turned back and obediently stood before him. He could feel his heart beating in his throat. He was afraid his hands might shake as he tried to undo the buttons of her shirt, but they were thankfully steady.

He made himself work slowly and take his time. He tried to remember how to breathe, there didn't seem to be enough air in his lungs.

First her white cotton shirt fell to the ground, followed by her bra, and then her skirt. She kicked off her own shoes. Then Quatre slid her panties down her long legs, and under her toes as she picked up one foot and then another.

She stood before him then, utterly naked. She looked sweetly vulnerable, not even attempting to cover herself with her hands. Quatre's crotch ached. He struggled with suddenly clumsy fingers to take off his own pants.

Une placed her hands over his. "Let me," she, and she began to undress him in an unhurried and leisurely manner. But her face was flushed and he could feel the heat radiating off of her naked body.

She removed all of his clothes, then reached into a nightstand and pulled out a condom. She knelt down before him and pulled it over his erection.

She's touching me, thought Quatre. He had to lay his hands on her head to keep from falling over. He marveled at the way her brown hair fell down her bare back.

When she was finished she reached up to turn off the lights but Quatre gently stopped her.

"I want to be able to see you," he said.

He gathered her up in his arms, her soft body, warm and yielding, pressed against him. She let him pick her up and gently lay her down on the blue bedspread.

She was a goddess of perfection, appearing before him in all her glory.

"And with this body, I thee worship.." murmured Quatre, as he began to kiss her mouth, deeply, slowly, while his hands roamed over her body. She moaned into his mouth, a soft cry that was almost a voiceless whisper, when his fingers touched the slick place between her legs.

Her arms were encircling his neck. Her fingers tangled in his hair, then traveled down his back. Then they were gently guiding him between her thighs.

He stopped kissing her so that he could look upon her face as he entered her. With her lips slightly parted and her eyes half-closed and unfocussed with desire, Quatre thought he had never seen her more beautiful.

"I love you, Une," he whispered.

The joy emanating from her eyes and the sensation of being engulfed in her velvety warmth nearly made Quatre come right then and there. But he grit his teeth and did his best to hang on. He wanted to make it last.

Calculus, think about calculus, he told himself.

"Show me what to do," he said. The words came in pants and gasps. "Show me how to make you come."

It felt right to be guided by her, to let her words and her body set the pace of the lovemaking. He was her student again, eager to learn, but this time she was a much gentler teacher, and the rewards were so much greater than a mere history lesson.

Afterwards, they lay entangled in each other's arms, Une's legs wrapped around Quatre, while they listened to the soft chirping of nocturnal insects. Quatre felt a sense of completeness. This is where I belong, he thought.

"I'm gong to miss you, Quatre," said Une softly.

"Miss me?" Quatre smiled and nuzzled Une's warm neck, "The University is only four hours away. I'll be here to see you every weekend."

Une was silent.

"Une?" Quatre propped himself up on one elbow so you could face her. She looked back at him, her eyes filled with a resigned sort of sadness. "Did you think I was going to let this end when I went away to college?"

"Things can't stay this way forever, Quatre," said Une.

"Wha..?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His previous feelings of contentment shattered like broken glass. "Was that what you were thinking, all along?" His chest felt tight, as if cold invisible hand had reached in to squeeze his heart. "That it was just a summer fling? You know that I love you! I will never love anyone else but you!" He raised his voice, he couldn't help it. There was a dull ache at the back of his throat.

Une sat up, she held the sheets up in front of her to cover herself. The lamplight behind her surrounded her head like a nimbus, a saintly halo. "You shouldn't make promises that you can't keep, Quatre," she said. Her voice was filled with infinite sadness, as if he had already left her. As if she had already given up on him.

"You don't know that," said Quatre, in a low growl. Why was she pushing him away now? Why was his beautiful Une doing this to him?

"What makes you think that we can't be together forever?" he said. "What makes you so sure that I'm going to forget about you once I go to college? You don't know that! You can't know any of that!"

"Quatre, what you are suggesting is impossible."

"Why?" said Quatre, "Just because Treize never married you..." The second that name left his lips Quatre knew he had made a fatal mistake. Une's brown eyes blazed with anger, and then turned into hard flinty orbs of near black.

"You know nothing about Treize," she said coldly.

"I know that you loved him," said Quatre. "But he's not here anymore. You can't let go of everyone else that you love just because you're afraid to be hurt again. Une, don't do this."

She turned her back on him, and pulled on a robe. "It would be best if we didn't see each other again," she said, without turning her head.

"Une," said Quatre, his voice sounded pathetic and pleading, but he didn't care anymore. "Please don't do this. Une, love, my sweet..."

"Good bye, Quatre," She stood up then disappeared into the bathroom. He heard the sound of running water. She's taking a shower, and washing me off of her, thought Quatre. She wants to be rid of me. Despair fell on him, and he gathered up his clothes from the floor and fled the room.

He woke in his own bed the next morning, with the vague feeling that something wonderful had happened the day before. Then all the events of the previous night came back to him, and he wanted to hold his head in his hands and sob.

He busied himself with packing and cleaning his room, trying to ignore the horrible pain that assaulted him every time something reminded him of Une. He found himself unconsciously waiting for the phone to ring, hoping that Une would call him, and tell him that she had made a terrible mistake. He had to laugh at himself when he realized what he was doing. He was acting like a fool. She never called him. It was always Quatre calling Une and going over to visit Une. How could he have been so blind?

If his parents or anyone else noticed anything odd in his behavior, they chalked it up to nervousness at starting college, and moving away from home. None of them knew about Une. At the beginning of their relationship, Une had suggested that it would be best if they were discreet. And now I know why, thought Quatre bitterly. She never expected it to last. She didn't want to taint her reputation as an educator with a scandalous affair.

He left town the next week. He tried to go see Une before he left, but she never answered his calls. He went to her place and knocked at the door, but she never came to the door. He left her a note on her doorstep, telling her that he loved her, and that he would always love her.

At college, Quatre couldn't bear to study history anymore. He changed his major to biology, and chose the pre-med track, managing to graduate in only three years by taking classes during the summer. He never returned home for the holidays, telling his family that he had too much work to do. But it was because he simply couldn't bear to be in the same town as his Une. Even thinking about it made the pain come back.

He dated other girls during college, he even slept with some of them. But they were all casual affairs. No one could take Une's place in his heart. He felt like he was sifting through a pile of pebbles and stones, looking for a pearl. His perfect pearl. His beautiful Une. Cruel, heartless Une. After a while he gave up looking. It really wasn't fair to the others.

He was accepted to a prestigious medical school, across the country and further away from Une. He glided through all this course work and specialty rotations, and was ready to graduate with top honors. His parents were proud. He was planning to do his residency in the same city, and never go back to his hometown again, when his mother was suddenly taken ill. He flew back to be with her.

The town was the same as he had remembered it, which was strange because he felt as if he had changed so much. His mother was glad to see him, and he wondered if she had exaggerated the gravity of her illness just to have him home for a while. If so, he forgave her for it. He felt guilty for being away for so long when he knew that his family missed him.

And he felt surprisingly little pain.

Maybe I'm beginning to forget her, though Quatre. Maybe I'll be able to look back at those times and feel only a fond nostalgia.

He made the mistake of going to visit his old high school. The school principle wanted to see him, and to congratulate him on his success. Wandering around deserted hallways afterwards, he passed by Miss Une's class, and heard her voice.

All the old hurt and anguish came back to him and hit him like a sledgehammer. He had to lean against the wall to catch his breath. What's wrong with me, he thought. Seven years! Seven years later and I still can't forget her.

The bell rang. He had to step out of the way to keep from getting run over by exuberant students eager to leave the classroom. The flood of students passed, and then he saw her.

She was a beautiful as his most beautiful memory of her. She no longer put her hair in a bun in the classroom, although her glasses were still in place. She looked up and started as it seeing a ghost.

"Hello,' said Quatre, not knowing what else to say.

"Quatre," her voice was reserved. "I've heard that you've become a doctor now. Congratulations. You must be proud of your accomplishments."

"Thank you," said Quatre. He watched her gather up her lecture notes, how her hair fell across her face, how her graceful form moved around the student's desks as she made her way to the door. It made his breath catch in his throat.

She stopped in front of him. He had grown a few inches since the day they had parted. Quatre now stood eye to eye with Une.

"Quatre," said Une. "I'm sorry for what happened, years ago. I...I was wrong to hurt you like that."

He had spent countless hours thinking of all that he would say to her, should she ever appear before him again. Bitter words, angry words, words to hurt and maim her the way she had hurt and maimed him. But they all seemed to vanish like mist in the morning sun.

"I hope that you can forgive me," she said.

"I forgave you a long time ago," said Quatre quietly, and he knew it was true.

He had forgiven her, because he had known all along that she loved him. He sensed the truth of it now, seeing her in front of him. And he knew that she still loved him. That she had never stopped loving him. And that the years that had come and gone had been filled with bitter regret and pain for her also. He didn't question the thought, he simply acted on it.

"Une," he said bending down on one knee. "I am years late, but late is better than never. Seven years ago I told you that I loved you. I told you that I would always love you. I'm a man who keeps all of his promises. I have no ring to offer, but will you marry me?"

Une's eyes filled with tears, and she sank down to the floor next to Quatre.

"I don't deserve this," she said. "Oh, Quatre..."

"Is that a yes?"

She nodded.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her lips, and all the years spent apart seemed to fade away. They belonged to each other, and that was all that mattered now. Hand in hand, they left the classroom.

The End