Bradley Crawford. The American, leader of Schwarz, was dressed in his 
              pin-stripped suit, looking as charming as usual. He sat across me in 
              the dimly lit room that was to be the conference room for Schwarz. And 
              I drank in the beautiful sight of him. 

              I love how his black hair is set, with strands falling over his eyes. 
              I've always had the urge to run my fingers through them, just to see 
              how it feels like. And those Persian-blue eyes of his, framed by 
              silver-rimmed glasses narrows ever so slightly as he briefs us. 
              Everytime our eyes meet, I always feel myself getting lost in it. It 
              somehow has that soothing effect on me. But I had to look away from 
              him, less he becomes suspicious.  

              Slowly I turn back, and my eyes travelled to his lush lips, rosy and 
              full. I've always been captivated on how they move everytime he talks, 
              how it forms the words that I hear. I've wondered many a times how 
              Brad would taste like. Like the peppermint candies that he always 
              take? Or just plainly like Brad? And would he be a good kisser? I 
              smiled in spite of myself.

              "Schuldich," Brad called out. " Are you even concentrating on what I'm 
              saying? I don't want you messing up this mission like what happened 
              the last time. Need I remind you again, in-case you've forgotten 
              already?"

              I could feel my cheeks heat up. But I wasn't going to let Brad have 
              the satisfaction of seeing me blush. And it wasn't because of the 
              failed mission last week, but because of the way that he had mentioned 
              my name. It's the way that he says it, so unlike how other people do. 
              I get a kick out of little things like that, especially when it 
              involves Bradley Crawford.

              "Hey hey, chill," I said, holding my hands up. "It wasn't entirely my 
              fault you know. If Farf hadn't gone missing, it woulda been all fine," 
              I stated, stealing a glimpse of the one-eyed, knife-licking Irish 
              psycho-sadomasochist. Farfarello cast a boring look at me as he licked 
              the new knife that I just bought him. That's good. At least I know 
              that he doesn't mind having to put up with the blame. I grinned at 
              Brad.

              "Yes, it's just so like you to blame it all on Farfarello," Brad 
              continued, a finger pushed his glasses up as it began to slide down 
              his nose. "Just because he doesn't say anything, doesn't mean you can 
              shift the blame to him. Besides, didn't I warn you before hand not to 
              let him out of your sight? And here you are complaining about me 
              briefing you one time too many!" Brad threw his hands up in the air, 
              exasperated.      
               
              "What have I got to do to make you listen to me, Schuldich! Do you 
              hate me that much?" He asked, voice a little pained.

              Ouch. To hear Brad say that I hate him really was a painful prick to 
              the heart. That was the last thing that I had for him, hate. I loved 
              him to bits and he can't see it! Is he that blinded by his piles of 
              work that he wouldn't even notice love even if it's right under his 
              nose? I was hurt, well and truly hurt.

              But nevertheless, I don't show it. It's been a trait that I had 
              acquired once joining Schwarz. To show any sign of true emotion was 
              considered a vulnerability. Therefore, I don't. And I only put forth 
              that conniving grin that was fast becoming a habit of mine.

              Brad just looked at me with those mesmerising blue eyes of his, and 
              sighed. He turned his attention to stacking up the files on the work 
              desk. "Nagi, you and Farfarello go on this one. Schuldich, you stay. I 
              think we've got some things to sort," he said finally. 

              I looked to my right, trying to see past the rain that trickled down 
              the window pane. The two younger ones brushed past me and I didn't 
              even notice. I was trying to stop the urge from jumping on Brad right 
              there and then, and he was so close! I clenched my fist, only to 
              realise that my hands had started to sweat. I guess everybody has 
              their limits, and the temptation at the moment was so strong! I gave 
              up trying to hide my feelings.

              The door closes with a soft click. The others are gone. Privacy, 
              finally. I looked up to see Brad's broad back facing me. I got up from 
              the leather couch that I was sitting on. I had best get this done 
              before my love interest starts his long lecture on me again. Walking 
              slowly towards him, I wondered whether it would be wise to confess my 
              true feelings to him. Would he understand? Or would he just push me 
              away? But, an attraction that's so strong, the feeling that pulls me 
              to him, I'm sure this can't be wrong.

              As I stood there, just a feet away from Brad, he turned around and 
              faced me. Our eyes meet, but just for a second. I turn away. I was 
              lost and I didn't know what to do. For the first time in my life, I 
              didn't know what to say. No sarcasm, no crude comments…just, nothing.

              "Schuldich," he called out. "I know you don't like me. We never did 
              get along even from the first day. And I'm not saying that we have to 
              be friends or anything, but at least, you know, try to keep all these 
              hatred aside when we're working," he paused to look at me. "I don't 
              want to be dragged into Takatori's office and I think, neither do 
              you."

              The coldness in his tone made me cringe inwardly. "Brad," I started, 
              trying very hard to control my emotions. "I care for you. A lot. And 
              never in my mind have I ever thought of hurting you in any way." I 
              waited to see his reaction but there was none, so I continued. "Don't 
              you see it Brad, I love you," the last three words were spoken more 
              like a whisper. And I turned my attention to the gray carpet. I could 
              feel my cheeks heat up and I didn't like it one bit. I felt like a 
              stupid school girl.

              I could sense his shock. His mind was fumbling for some appropriate 
              words to say. And ended up with none. So we stood there, both silent 
              save for the rapid breathing. Then, Brad turned back to re-stacking 
              his work. I looked up, disappointed that he didn't even say a word. I 
              whispered his name and still, he didn't answer. I gathered my courage 
              and walked up to him, slowly slid my arms around his waist. I could 
              feel him tense up, but I didn't care. I entwined my fingers around him 
              and placed my cheek against his back. I could hear his heartbeat, and 
              it was beating just as fast as mine.

              I could feel the stinging in my eyes, and I didn't want the tears to 
              fall. I didn't want Brad to think that I was weak, that I'd cry over 
              someone, but I couldn't help it, I wanted him that badly. The tears 
              were falling past my cheeks and I pressed my eyes on Brad's expensive 
              suit, damping them. My heart hurt, it felt like someone clenched on 
              it, wanting it to burst. I held onto Brad tightly, not wanting him to 
              leave, especially not now. 

              "Please…love me," I begged. But still, he didn't say or do anything. 
              He just stood there. And me, I couldn't take it anymore. The mask, the 
              facade that I live in finally crumbled, and I broke down and cried.

              *~*~*~*~*~*

              The kettle hooted noisily, and I snapped out of my thoughts and turned 
              the gas off. Those memories, they were of years ago, when we were more 
              younger, when Schwarz was a four man group. Now, it's nothing but 
              history. Nagi's now in college, studying about computers and 
              Farfarello, well, he's still as insane as ever, but I think Nagi's 
              handling him quite well. They've moved in together.

               Brushing off the strands of hair obscuring my view, I turned to look 
              at Brad sitting in the living room, on the couch, reading the morning 
              paper. Nothing has changed about him. He's still the same, more older, 
              more wiser, but still the same old Brad Crawford that I know and 
              admire. 

              "Brad, you want coffee?" I asked, even though I already know his 
              answer. He muttered a "Yes, please". I smiled. It's nice to hear his 
              voice, he doesn't talk that much nowadays, only when necessary. I 
              guess it's true what they say, actions do speak louder than words. 

              I got the jar of black powdery stuff out of the cabinet, took a 
              teaspoon from the nearby drawer and tossed in 2 spoonfuls in to the 
              mug, adding the right amount of sugar. It's amazing what you can learn 
              from living with someone long enough. Back then, I wouldn't even know 
              that Brad drank DeCaffe, and not the normal stuff. The steam rises 
              from the mug as I poured the water in. I made myself a cup too and got 
              out of the kitchen.

              Placing the mug on the glass table, I sat beside him, silently sipping 
              on my coffee. I know how it gets on his nerves when I just stare at 
              him. But it's a habit that I'd acquired, even way before I joined 
              Schwarz. I'd loved to observe people, watching them with their 
              perfectly normal lives in their perfectly normal little world, and 
              sometimes, I envied them. They didn't have to hear thousands of 
              screaming voices in their heads, they didn't have to get pushed 
              towards the edge of sanity. But sometimes, I think I'm better off than 
              most of them. I can know what Brad thinks, and that's enough to make 
              up for all the other loses in life. I wouldn't give up my telepathic 
              powers just to be normal, when that's the one thing that bonds me to 
              him.

              Reaching a hand out, I brushed aside a strand of black hair, and 
              placed it behind his ears, only to have it fall back again as it had 
              been. I ran the back of my hand across his smooth cheek, and 
              deliberately passed my fingertips on the side of his lips, just to see 
              what he would do.

              A warm hand held on to my wrist, and the newspaper rustled as the 
              owner placed it back on the glass table, along with the untouched 
              coffee that was fast turning cold. I placed my own coffee down. His 
              hand came in contact with my cheek, and I heard myself sigh. His touch 
              was always soft

              He pushed me down, making me lie on the leather couch, and he hovered 
              on top of me, still caressing me with his hand. He lowered his head 
              towards mine. I closed my eyes, anticipating the warm touch of his 
              lips. Closer and closer he gets and finally, I feel him against me, 
              and I gasped, the movement of his lips against mine made me melt.

              And he kissed me, passionately. When we broke off, I ran my fingers 
              over his jet-black hair, staring right back at him, getting lost in 
              those deep pools of Persian blue. I didn't need the words to tell me 
              how he feels, his gaze assured me that he felt the same way as I did, 
              that he loved me just as deeply as I do him.

              I'm glad that I took the chance and expressed my feelings to him, that 
              day a long long time ago. I'm glad that I didn't let my pride get in 
              the way of something as wonderful as this.  Most of all, I'm glad that 
              I'm in love with Brad Crawford.

              END