Impossibly in Love

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Disclaimer: I don't own Shugo Chara!

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Chapter I: Failure in Love

...

(Failed) Engagement Number 1:

"C'mon, sweetheart, I'll make it up to you—" he said desperately, chasing after me.

I glared at him through the peephole, and said, "Go screw yourself."

Then I may have 'accidentally' slammed the door on his poor little hand. Oops.

(Failed) Engagement Number 2:

"Hey honey, I'm –insert name here- and your parents hired to make all of your worries drift away," he said, grinning, making his teeth glint and shine in a completely unnatural way. He was tan, buff, and tall. And, judging from the way he was expecting me to drop dead from just looking at him, he was a narcissist too.

"So, why don't we start by going inside and, y'know, getting to know each other?" he said with another one of those flashy smiles.

"You sound like a rapist. Bye."

I almost snickered when I saw his grin drop off, as if wondering how somebody could turn him down, since he apparently thought he was just about the sexiest thing alive.

(Yeah, right.)

(Failed) Engagement Number 3:

"Wow, it's hot in your apartment," he remarked. His forehead was matted with sweat and it made his (already) balding head glisten.

"Jeez," he panted. And, instead of being kind of normal, as in, using his own sleeve to mop his own bodily fluids, he promptly took my dress…

And he wiped his face in it.

I almost choked on disgust, while he nodded, satisfied and relieved. "That's much better."

We just sat in silence, with me staring at my dress and considering burning it or… burning it, with him staring at me.

"I love you," he said suddenly. I nodded, sitting across from him, bored.

He smiled at me, an honest and completely genuine smile.

I think I felt a pang of guilt; or maybe that was just an aftershock of pigging out on too many French fries… (Oh, the joys of having zero adult supervision.)

"Really, I do," he insisted, taking my hand. Then, suddenly, he sneezed loudly, about three times in a row, coughed up crap, and then made a mad dash for the bathroom.

… I think I just heard him vomit.

Eww.

(Failed) Engagement Number 4:

"Sorry I'm late," I muttered as I slipped off my flats. I stopped when I heard loud erotic noises and simply stared at the two people sucking face on my couch and the girl straddling my (ever-so-lovely) fiancé, and immediately, the picture burned itself deep into my retinas.

(Whoever said that they're jealous of people with photographic memories is a total retard.)

They broke apart for a second, and my fiancé stared at me like a gaping fish, while the girl tilted her head like a ditz. (I'm sure I wouldn't be far off the mark in saying she was one.)

I looked at them for another minute, and then sighed resignedly. "Just… Just clean the couch when you're done. Or at least, buy me a new one," I added as I closed the door to my room and jumped into my bed and placed my cool pillow over my head and eyes, trying to drain my head of that incredibly horrifying picture.

(It didn't work.)

(Failed) Engagement Number 5:

"So, how are you today?" he said, as he licked his lips, making him look like a creepy pedophile.

"…"

"Oh, playing hard to get are we?" he growled, twirling a strand of my hair. I felt my eyebrow twitch irritably.

I stood up abruptly. "I have to go," I said shortly.

The originally 'suave' man (he was never suave), cried out, "Wait, my perfect angel. I'll serenade you!"

"Holy—"

[marriage. marriage. marriage. arranged.]

I sat on my couch, curled up comfortably, and completely satisfied reading gag manga online. That is, I was, until the doorbell rang loudly.

"Rima? It's Amu! Open the door!"

I stared at the door, and contemplated opening it. I shifted my gaze back over to the computer, and muttered a few choice words as I got up and shuffled to the door.

"What?" I said irritably, glaring out from behind my door with my arms crossed.

My pink-haired friend laughed nervously, and asked hesitantly, "Er, want to go outside…?"

"No," I said curtly, fixing to slam my door on her, but she held it open.

"Rima, you can't stay in here forever! You have to come outside at some point."

"And be ambushed by more potential boyfriends and ex-fiancés? No effing thanks," I said as I settled myself primly on top of my couch.

"What, so you're going to stay and live in your apartment for the rest of your life?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I'll leave this apartment, go to an all singles neighborhood, buy fifty cats, and have play-dates with my neighbors for our cats."

(Life plan: all planned out.)

[love. impossible. love. impossible.]

Ding.

Ding.

DingDingDing—

"Alright, alright, I get it!" I grumbled loudly. "Just shut up."

I threw the door open, expecting one of my more annoying break-ups to show up, on their knees, begging to be taken back. Instead, I got some random guy with long purple hair and ocher eyes.

"Package for Mashiro Rima," he said, handing me the manila envelope. My eyes widened, and I stuffed it back in his hands.

"Burn it," I hissed. And with that, I promptly slammed the door on him too.

[impossible. impossible. impossible. love.]

Ding.

Ding

DingDingDing—

"What do you want?" I said through clenched teeth. The same purple-haired guy stood outside from yesterday. He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe from the incessant amounts of time you ring my effing doorbell?" I said sarcastically. "What do you want?" I scrutinized the name on the tiny nametag. Fujisaki Nagihiko.

"Package," he stated, tossing it to me. It was heavier this time.

"Burn this one too. In fact, just burn every single thing that's sent to me from this place," I said, shoving it back in his hands. (Again.)

And then I slammed the door on him. (Again.)

[again. again. again. again.]

Ding.

Ding.

DingDingDing—

"… This is the fifth package this week," he said curiously, handing it to me. "What is it?"

"Why didn't you burn it then?" I snapped, glaring daggers at the cursed package.

"Because, you specifically ordered that I burn everything that comes from that place, and this is a different place," he said simply, gesturing to the address.

"Why do you keep delivering my crap anyways?" I asked, feeling my annoyance stretch to new heights.

"Because I'm an underpaid college student who's dead broke and needs to work, and as a result, ends up working at this place, and ends up having to take care of this girl who has made ten employees here quit," he said amusedly. "So yeah, it's nice to see you too. And you are?"

"None of your business," I said as I shoved the package into his hands. (Again.)

And then I slammed the door on him. (Again.)

…

"I'm way too underpaid for this job," Nagihiko muttered under his breath as he went to burn the package.

(Again.)

...

(The poor, poor minimum wage workers of today...)

…

[a few weeks later.]

Ding.

Ding.

DingDingDing—

"Package?" I asked tiredly as I opened the door, already knowing who it was.

"Nope, but I'm invading your apartment," he said cheerily as he entered without permission.

"Gross, I don't want a transvestite in my room," I said as I closed the door behind him.

"Yeah, well, I don't exactly enjoy having to constantly go to the drug store to go buy your oh-so-very-special pudding. So we're both in the same boat."

"… Those two things are nothing alike."

…

"And, for the record, retard, that pudding is amazing, so shut your face."

…

[okay. okay. okay. okay.]

...

He's okay, setting aside the fact that he was potentially gay, potentially a transvestite, potentially a pedophile, and a complete loser.

(And yes, the 'complete loser' part has been proven.)

…

"Holy— where did all my pudding go?"

"… Wait, no, Rima, I am not going to the drug store again, and—"

I smiled at him sweetly, and then slammed the door on him.

(Again.)

…

I don't know what this is. It was (supposed) to be a lovely, short, and not completely crack-worthy little one-shot, and instead, it'll end up being multi-chapter... Probably.

lulz, idk. kthxbaii~! (I need to stop writing so many multi-chapter when I already have two that are (already) difficult to manage... (Wow, what a loserrr.)

I've been wanting to write about something like this since forever, since, for some reason, engagements amuse me to no end... And I like pudding. :)

Besides that, I think I overused my lovely parentheses, my lovely brackets, and the word 'Again'... So, uh, sorry.

Er, review? Or something. Or whatever you wanna do. :D

-Bluey-san