Cell- A small room in which a prisoner is locked.
"Duck," hissed Fakir, his voice riddled with malice. "Let me out. I have work to do."
The petite redhead shook her head dramatically, not that Fakir could see. She had locked him in his room. Of course she hadn't anything dirty in mind; she simply wanted him to rest. He looked pale, and exhausted- but he'd never admit that he was tired. He had much too much pride for that.
"I will in an hour or two. After you've slept!" Duck replied.
The two certainly had an interesting friendship. Duck was no longer the thirteen year old girl she had been. She grew up. Physically. She had the maturity of a young girl still. After returning Mytho's heart shards and becoming a duck again, the former Princess Tutu had stayed with Fakir. To no one's surprise, he began to miss her terribly. It took MANY attempts, but the twenty-four year old wrote a story making Duck human again. She was twenty, and no longer a mere child. Often, Duck would let her red hair down, rather than putting it up in her classic braid. Her blue eyes still sparkled with curiosity; she wanted to know absolutely everything about the world.
The two hadn't gone back to Crown Academy, though they contemplated it for weeks. Fakir needed a peaceful place to write, and peace was something the lake provided. Duck wanted to dance, but that was something she would do anywhere. So there they stayed, in their two bedroom cabin next to the lake. And in one of those bedrooms, was a fuming Fakir.
"Duck," Said an agitated voice.
Duck shook her head, knowing very well that Fakir couldn't see her. "Why do you have to be stubborn? I'm worried about your health, and it isn't like you are a writer on a deadline. Sleep please- for me?"
Fakir didn't need to see her to know that Duck was batting her eyelashes innocently. He knew she didn't do it on purpose; it was just a part of her nature. She did not feign her innocence. Her eyes were probably wide with concern- that was another one of those things she did. She really was like a duck. In many ways.
Fakir sighed. "Duck, unlock my door."
"But-," she began to protest.
"Now."
Reluctantly, she unlocked the door. Fakir swung it open to see her melancholy expression, which was extremely hard to miss. So she really had been worried about him. He wanted to reach out and touch her, or at least to make her smile, but he couldn't. It simply wasn't in his nature to make someone smile. Everything he said came out sounding too harsh or hostile, and it secretly pained him to see that one flash of hurt in Duck's sapphire eyes.
"Fakir, I'm sorry if you're mad. I just wanted you to rest because you work so hard. And…I really am sorry."
"Stupid, I'm not mad," Fakir muttered.
Duck almost tackled him to the ground in joy. Well, the girl certainly had a quick rebound; no one could deny her that. Her arms wrapped around him, and hadn't he sucked in a breathe beforehand, he would have suffocated. She was much stronger than she looked. When the blood stopped rushing to his face, Fakir allowed himself to hug her back. Maybe it wasn't in his nature, or maybe it was. It simply didn't matter.
Duck had him trapped inside a prison cell in her heart, and there was no way he was getting out.