Disclaimer: Don't own anything but my fanfics
First try at Miroku/Sango (my fav. pairing)
He was sick of it all. Of waiting, of heartbreak, of life in general. He was sick of wanting her, loving her. She completed him, like a missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle. He needed her. But… he had lost her…
Flashback
Walking, with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slumped, Miroku all but shuffled towards his apartment. Fingering the velvet box that had been stuffed into his jeans pocket, he shoved his keys into the lock and slowly opened the door. All the while, replaying the scene over and over again in his head. Rewinding, stopping, playing, and pausing the same ten minutes of the day in his mind, trying to see what he had done wrong, what he had said wrong.
Today… today wasn't supposed to have been like this. Today was supposed to have been special. He was supposed to feel like the happiest man on Earth… not like this. Like a piece of trash waiting to be thrown away. Like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stomped on repeatedly.
Rejection had never been something he particularly enjoyed. Whether it was an offer for a date or a suggestion for a reunion with a bitter family member, he hated the word "no". For years, he had refused to take no for an answer… until he met her.
Commitment wasn't his forte, to put it simply. He got in, got on, got off. It was the same thing with every girl. One-night stands were all he could stand. He'd never felt any… guilt by doing what he did. After all, he had a strict rule of never doing virgins. He didn't want to be a memory. He didn't want to be forever imprinted on her mind.
He never gave them his real name. Always different aliases, so that he would only be like a figment of their imagination, a hallucination dreamt up under the influence of sexual tension.
There was no real emotion hidden under the main feeling of lust. He didn't care for any of the women he slept with. Likewise, they didn't care for him. He had liked this sort of sex. No strings attached.
Then she came along…
She was so different from him. She had a family, friends, who she loved and who loved her back. She was proud, beautiful inside and out.
When he first saw her, he felt immediate attraction… but it had been far from mutual. When she first saw him, her expression had changed from her usual smile to an almost hidden grimace. No doubt it was from how he had been, just moments before, flirting with the busty waitress.
She had avoided him. No matter how hard he had tried time and again to talk to her, she refused. Again and again, rejecting him, almost as if it were some twisted game that she took pleasure in. But he knew better than to assume that.
She was an angel in disguise really. Volunteering in charities and donating to animal shelters. The only time she showed her temper was towards him. He probably shouldn't have been encouraged by this, but he was. Even if he was only there for her to get rid of any pent up anger, to be near her, well, it was enough for him.
Surprisingly, after first seeing her, he had stopped his nightly stands. Just talking, or rather arguing, with her seemed to satisfy him. However unrequited his affections towards her were, to just know she was there was enough.
Then, quite suddenly, her family was gone. They had been driving, her parents, her brother and herself, when a truck had collided with them at a four-way intersection. Her parents died on impact, her brother three days later.
She had only suffered a broken leg and a few broken ribs, but when he first heard, he had hurried to her side. She had surprised him, by smiling when he turned up, but he suspected that maybe all the painkillers that they had given her had dulled her senses for the time being, but he stayed there, by her side until she was released from the hospital.
He was there, when she first heard that she was the only survivor of the car crash. He was there when she took her first step out of her hospital bed. He was there to hold her tight comfort her and to brush away all her tears.
After that, her views towards him changed. In fact, as surprising as it was, for both of them, she was the one who asked him out. Granted, he gave her, her first kiss, but she had technically made the first move.
They had been dating for three years now and were, or so he had thought, blissfully happy. Sure, they fought occasionally, but it had only made their relationship stronger. He had thought that they were ready to move on to the next level.
"Sango… how long have we known each other?" He had asked taking her hands with his.
"Oh, four, five years I'd say." She had replied.
"Exactly five years, three months and six days." He told her earnestly, looking at her with affection in his eyes.
"You counted?" She asked, quirking her eyebrow at the fact, although she was deeply touched.
"Every second, minute and hour," He answered, before kneeling on one knee, "Sango, I have loved you since the first day I set my eyes on you. You… you complete me. And, I don't think I ever want to be without you."
"M… Miroku? What are you saying?" She asked.
"What I'm saying is that… Sango, will you marry me?" He asked, holding her hands even tighter before producing the velvet box that held the golden engagement ring.
Looking at her, he saw tears running down her face and moved in to hold her against him, confused as to why she was crying.
"I… I… I can't…." She choked out, before she broke down sobbing into his shirt.
It had taken him a few seconds to register what she had just said. The pure rejection of it all hurt him. No explanation, just a flat out refusal.
Pulling away from her, he had stormed off, refusing to look back even when he heard her shout his name. When he heard her try and run after him, he had only run faster, trying to escape the pain.
End Flashback
Looking back, Miroku wondered if maybe running off was such a good idea. But he had been hurt. It was like she had basically stabbed him. She hadn't called, visited, anything after that day… it had been three weeks. Maybe… he was just like some toy, a pet for her to play with. Or maybe… she had just been repaying him for the time he had spent watching after her in the hospital.
Every time she had said that she had loved him… had she been faking? Was she lying all this time? Lying so that his feeling wouldn't be hurt?
He kicked the table. A lot of good that did him. He had never felt this sort of pain, this sort of depression and anguish before.
Before she came along, his rules were simple. To never sleep with a virgin, to never do it without protection, to never give them his real name… all of them were to avoid one thing, getting into a long-term relationship, and he had done just that.
But he couldn't just… forget about her. He had used up five years of his life for gods sake. He was 21 now, just out of college without a job and living on the last bits of the money that his parents had left him in their will.
He had made up his mind. He had to have Sango. She was his reason for living, his soul mate. His every thought was about her. To forget her would be like cutting off a piece of his soul.
Tying his hair in a loose ponytail, he shrugged on a jacket and walked out of the apartment, keys in one hand, and the velvet box in the other. One way or another, Sango would be his; even if he had to keep asking until he was 67.
After all, he never took no for an answer.