Another boom of thunder had me rigid in the bed. If there was one thing Bulma Briefs hated above all else, even more than split ends, it was thunder storms.
Ever since I was a little girl, the first sign of a storm would have me running to my parents' room. My father tried in earnest to awe me with the scientifics of the storm, but my fear always greatly overshadowed the effort. In the end I would always wind up sleeping snugly between my two parents in their bed.
But mommy and daddy weren't here to comfort me tonight. My parents were away on a cruise and I was alone in the entire compound, save for the brooding prince down the hall.
Lightning lit up the sky outside my window and I clutched the bed sheets closer.
"I can do this. I can do this." Another boom of thunder had the house shaking.
"I can't do this!" I shrieked and shot out of bed, tripping over the jumbled mass of sheets tangled around my legs. My body knew where it was going before my mind caught up, and before I could register why this was a bad idea, I was standing outside the door to the Prince's room.
He's gonna laugh at me, I thought bitterly, taking a deep breath, trying desperately to steady my breathing and loosen the still tightening knot in my stomach. Just knock on the door. He probably already sensed you were out here. Another boom of thunder echoed in the halls. Here goes nothing.
I lifted my hand and gently rapped on the bedroom door.
"What do you want, woman?" I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding and tried my best to steady the shaking in my voice as I spoke.
"Vegeta...can I come in?"
Silence.
I stood there with my ear pressed to the door for what seemed an eternity. Another boom of thunder racked the compound.
"Vegeta?"
"Fine! Open the door if you must," came the snarled reply, although the words fell like blessings to my ears.
I opened the door and stepped into the room. The lights were off, but the television was on, and I could easily make out Vegeta lying propped up on the bed.
"What do you want?" the question came out more as a demand and I suddenly felt foolish for barging in here.
"I'm scared of storms." It sounded stupid even as I said it, and the narrowed eyes glaring daggers at me didn't help.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"I just...you're the only other person home and I really hate being alone during storms...and I just...I don't know, I thought maybe...can I stay with you until the storm is over?" I blurted out the last line before I could talk myself out of it, biting my bottom lip nervously as a bolt of lightning flashed outside his window.
He said nothing, staring at me, face impassive. I was suddenly very conscience of the shortness of my cotton shorts, the tightness of my tank top, and the bra I never wear to bed.
"Please, Vegeta? Just until the storm is past?"
When I think back to how our relationship began, it's always this moment that I come to first. Standing there in the doorway, the room dimly lit by the faint glow of the television, waiting anxiously for the reply that would mean so much more than just the answer to my question.
"Until the storm is past."