Continue To Believe

Disclaimer: I do not own Tokyo Mew Mew or its characters.

He stared at his own reflection in the mirror, taking deep breaths, exploring through his mind. He felt lost and struck with this wonder; this wonder of whether his continued hopes of being with this girl--this woman--were worth being saved. He wondered why he continued to wait, why he continued to believed that one day she would be his. He had no reason to keep believing.

Yet he did. He believed she would some day leave behind that perfect boy of hers, simply to come to him, to belong to him and him alone. He truly believed in that. Even if those beliefs were nothing but useless thoughts that fed on his sanity. It ate him alive as he continued to want her, continued to want to hold her, kiss her, touch her, be inside of her.

She didn't even know what he wanted. She did not know that he slept every night holding onto the pain he held simply because she was not with him.. She did not know he dreamt of her skin caressing his own as they lay beside one another under his sheets. She did not know how he became dizzy simply by imagining her naked body standing in front of him, asking him to have her. She did not know this.

And why should she? She would not care. She would probably hate him, would probably leave him completely, even if she was not even partially his. She would not return the strong love and lust he felt towards her. She would not feel the same way he felt when he thought of her.

Ryou Shirogane was alone. He was always alone and he was used to her. But it had all changed when he met the red-headed girl that haunted his sleep. That haunted him during every step he took during the day. He wanted her, but it was not a matter, simply because Ichigo Momomiya would never return his feelings. She would never want him as he wanted her.

She flowed through his mind as he stared at his own reflection. He shook his head, trying what he could to remove her from his mind. But it was but of no use. She was still there. She was always there. She was still there, as he zipped down his vest, preparing for a shower. That was what he needed. He needed to refresh himself and his mind. He needed to stop thinking of her.

Yet, she was still there. Still there, as he pulled down his white pants, and threw them into a dark corner of the bathroom. Still there, as he removed his boxers, the last piece of clothing. Still there, as he slid open the sliding glass door of the shower and stepped inside. Still there, even as he pulled up the knob and the hot water splashed down on his bare naked body.

There was no way she would leave. No way she'd escape his mind. He could see her as he shut his eyes. He could imagine her completely unclothed, letting out almost silent whimpers. He could hear her small voice, asking him to take her. What he would do to have her.

He wanted nothing more than to lay his hand on her bare breast. To stroke it with his large fingers, as she moaned in front of him with each and every touch. He would kiss her nipple, wetting it with the heat of his own saliva.

Imagining her breasts in his own hands, he felt his own manhood grow harder. He opened his eyes and looked down at it. It was one of those times. He sighed, realizing there was once again no way to prevent it. Each and every time he thought of her, he lost control of himself.

Without warning, a picture of her tight clit reached into his mind. He could see the liquid dripping down slowly as imagined his fingers massaging the insides, feeling her heat.

Ryou grabbed a hold of his cock and stroked it gently, as it grew erect from the erotic images in his mind of his own love. He wanted her. He wanted to touch her. He wanted her to touch him. He wanted her lips around his member, using her tongue to caress its exterior. He could feel her small, warm hands surrounding his sack, stroking it as she licked his manhood.

He tightened his grip around himself and moved his hands forward and back at a fast motion. Why wasn't she here with him? Why wasn't she here doing all the things he imagined her to do? Why wasn't she his, giving all of herself to him? Simple. Because she did not want to be.

But no matter what she wanted, it would not stop his mind from the thoughts that were roaming through it now. He thought of her body laying in front of him, legs wide, as she awaited him to plunge through her entrance. Once again, she whispers, "Take me."

Even if she was not there, he could hear her voice. He began swaying his hips forward, imagining she was there. Imagining that he was thrusting himself into her, causing her to shout out his name, asking him for more. Asking him to go harder; to go faster; to make her scream louder.

And he would obey her. He would move his hips faster, stroking her insides with his hardened cock, as they made their erotic love. Ryou closed his eyes, as the hot water hit his face, hit his body, hit his cock, as he continued to pretend he was humping Ichigo's body.

He wanted to hear her voice, even if he was doing so well to imagine it, he wanted to hear her sweet voice screamed out his name. He wanted to hear her scream to him that she wanted him to thrust harder. He wanted to do the things to satisfy her. He wanted to be her servant, offering her all of her sexual desires and so much more.

He was finally at the edge, and his cock was preparing to fire out its load. A few seconds more, he planned, taking deep breaths. He wanted more, even if she was not physically there in front of him, he wanted to keep thrusting. He was losing breath, and he came to a point where he could no longer delay. He shouted out her name loudly into the empty air, as he came, letting all of his substances fall upon the wall of the shower.

He was out of breath, as he finally stopped thrusting and stood silently where he was. Another one of those times gone by. Another aching moment of wanting Ichigo. Of wanting to be with her. Of wanting to be in her.

There was no hope for him left, but he would not stop believing. Maybe if he kept doing so, she would one day go to him, asking him to let her be his. To let him touch her and hold her closely. He would continue to believe, continue to hope. One day, she would be his.