Part of him is frantic, worried, as he walks the streets of Yu Liberte, looking left and right for a familiar figure. The sun has set hours ago and for once, he is late despite all his efforts. Hubert circles the plaza, still not spotting her, silently cursing his military tasks and endless paperwork.
I should have excused myself earlier, pretend I had an important errand or...
He wipes his forehead, the heat of the desert is still pounding hard despite the lack of sunlight and he had a busy, stressful day. His collar chaffing at his neck, he questions a few shopkeepers and changes his course to the west. Surely she didn't leave since she was last seen, did she? Not that she did reply to his last message, and that fills him with dread, it's so unlike Pascal!
Hubert walks toward the inn, one of the last areas he didn't investigate yet, and strolls toward the counter. A tall, distinguished man bows in respect at seeing a member of the military in full regalia.
"Good evening sir, how may I be of service?"
A brief glance at the reception area reveals it to be empty and the lounge seems sparsely occupied, the question is probably pointless, but...
"I am looking for a girl a little shorter than me, with white and red hair. She might have come in earlier today, I'm not sure. Did you see her?"
The steward's face lights up in recognition and Hubert's hope rises with the sight. Finally!
"Oh? Yes, as a matter of fact, she made accommodations early in the afternoon. I believe she is currently in the lounge."
The lieutenant zips by the counter with all speed, going toward the plateau at the back of the inn, eyes wide to see a glimpse of her bright locks. He turns around on himself, observing the tables, but there is no one he recognizes in sight. His eyes register a splash of color in the very far back, near one of the booth tables, and as he approaches, he clearly sees a figure sprawled on the circular couch of a discreet alcove, eyelids closed and a relaxed expression of her traits.
"Pascal?!"
Lazily, almost like a cat stretching itself awake, she turns her chin toward the intrusion, throws a cloudy, very dilated gaze his way and smiles with contentment. Somehow, there is something not quite right about her expression...
"Oh, hey Hu! What time is it?"
Her speech is slurred, the words barely sliding out of her lips, and her cheeks are flushed with color. She pushes herself up, swaying slightly on unsteady legs, trying to her around the table to meet him. Too surprised by her unfamiliar behavior to say much, he catches her by the shoulders before she bumps into something and falls.
"It's... actually way past the time I agreed to meet you, and it's totally my fault, I do apologize. Did you see my message on your communicator? Actually, are you okay? You look like you have a fever or..."
Over her silhouette, he spots a few fancy-shaped glasses with straws, all of them empty except for one still half-full with a creamy yellow liquid. She giggles and the sugary sweet smell of bananas and something stronger floats around him. Hubert frowns and looks down at her.
"My communi... Oh yeah, I think I left it upstairs... or something!"
"Pascal, have you been drinking?"
"Oh, just a few of those mar-ve-lous little banana coladas they make here. It was so warm and..."
Her lips are still upturned, as if everything amuses her, but she talks too loud and her swishing posture is louder than words. He cannot help but feel a few of the visitors' gaze on his back as they stand there, up and in plain view trying to have a conversation. He DOES have a reputation and well, this just won't do. Gently, he guides her back to the cushioned bench and makes her sit down and lay back as he does the same next to her.
"I am SOOOOOOOOOO happy you are here now though, it's been a lonely afternoon and..."
"Pascal, please, lower your voice!"
She makes a pouting face and clings to his coat flaps, so very very close and not abashed in the slightest. Hubert pushes his glasses up, trying to cover the weird croaking noise her actions made him utter.
"Hu, you are no fun! You should relax more, before we start calling you Captain Stuckup!"
He bristles at that one, his traits hardening as he looks down on her face, and her closeness registers once more. She is bare inches from his visage, so very close, with a pout that just makes her more enticing than ever before and he...
Dear gods, this girl! She is not herself but...
He blushes, turns away and mutters in a matter-of-fact voice.
"I am NOT stuck up, I merely take care in being proper and respectful, as well as conscious of my image as a representative of the military in..."
"Stuck up! You just got here and you're already lecturing me, I thought you would be happy I came to visit, not blame me for trying to survive summer in this oven by chugging some chilled juice!"
I AM happy you decided to visit, it was such a pleasant surprise to see your message, to know you were mere hours away from me and that I would get the chance to see you, your eyes, your...
Hubert bites his tongue, wanting nothing more than murmur his thoughts to her with as much affection as he can muster, but they stay stuck in his throat hopelessly.
"There's quite a difference between juice and those... liquid deathtraps filled with alcohol you've been downing for the last hours!"
She scoots away from him and crosses her arms, staring at him with half-lidded eyes that scorch him to the core.
"I'm not a kid you know, in fact, I'm older than you are, little brother!"
It's not who I want to be to you!
She lowers her chin and takes in the straw of her almost-finished drink, sipping the remaining liquid with a loud slurp, unashamed. She has the perfect knack to bring out the worst in him every time.
"Don't call me that, I told you, my name is..."
"I know I know! But it doesn't change the fact that YOU" She jabs a finger in his chest "Are always stiff as a board and incapable of relaxing. So relax, chill out, drink something!"
He scoffs, glancing off towards the rest of the lounge while she pushes the empty glass away.
"...Fine."
Pascal instantly brightens up, raises a hand in the air and waves to the discreet waiter.
"Oi! Over here!"
The lanky man has a neutral expression as he takes in the two customers at the booth, lifts the empty beverages on his platter and waits for their order. The girl is bubbly as she recites.
"I'll have another one of these de-li-cious banana drinks, nah, make that two! And him, well..."
"...A flute of chilled white wine, thank you."
The waiter nods and walks away. Pascal fumbles through her pouches, a metallic tingle playing in tune with her wiggling fingers, and she slaps a handful of coins on the table with a smile. The Amarcian seems overly proud of the simple gesture and it worries him.
"So how many of these... banana drinks did you taste before I got here?"
Seeing her features and gauging how... different she is than her usual self, he cannot help but dread the answer.
"Oh, I dunno Hu, I kinda lost count back there, but you should totally try one of them, they are fa-bu-lous!"
He groans, realizing that he is indeed stuck in the lounge with a drunk Pascal of all things, and that it would be even more improper to leave her there by herself, despite the discomfort of the situation. What if some soldier spies him here, in such loud company, would they think he is trying to take advantage of...
No no no no NO do NOT go there!
Hubert shakes his head, trying to clear the unwanted thoughts from his troubled mind. This is hardly proper, very unlike him and yet the simple idea is somewhat exciting and dreadful all at once. He wipes a hand on his face, groaning again, his collar feels tight and swallowing back the illicit thought is harder than expected.
Pascal dreamily sighs, relaxed in her curve of the booth. She doesn't notice when the light of the lounge dims, but registers the soft music that starts playing. Their corner of the room is out of the way, somewhat dark and soothing, and when the waiter comes back, it's not only to deposit their drinks on the table with efficiency, but also to add a small candle that he lights with a flourish before pocketing the pile of coins and leaving.
"Well this is so much better! The light is very relaxing!"
She takes a quick sip of her first cocktail, watching Hubert from the corner of her eyes toying with his glass, so straight and stiff he could be a statue. Propping her feet in a comfortable way under her knees, she watches him until he looks back and groans at her stare. His expression is strange and he suddenly pushes his still-in-place glasses even higher up his nose.
"Seriously Hu, take a vacation or something!"
"What? I.. we, we are having a drink, just as you requested!"
She scoffs, amused, takes a large swallow and almost empties her colada, then crawls over to his corner of their private bench. She doesn't register his cringing at her closeness, or the imperceptible way he almost trembles to the very edge of the seat as if wanting to get away from her. Grabbing a fistful of his uniform, she drags him toward her forcefully.
"P-Pascal! What are you...?"
"Shush! Stop standing so straight, this seat is comfy, you are supposed to relax! Now down your glass and let me fix you up!"
Hubert lays sprawled on the leather couch, while she almost climbs on him and jabs his glass in his hand. A finger to her lips, she watches him expectantly, patient and very composed, until he sighs and takes a cautious sip, unsure what she is about to do.
"Well that's a start!"
He sees her raise her hands toward him, holds his breath and feels her tugging at his uniform.
"Now what are you..."
"Drink and let me work!"
Her fingers brush against his chin as she fumbles his collar and Hubert can't help but shiver. Her skin is warm, almost burning, and he feels a wave of heat rising in his navel all the way to his head in a rush. He has no idea what she is trying to accomplish but can't seem to care, simply wishing he had another taste of her flesh touching his, fleeting and...
"There, so much better! Now you look like a soldier unwinding his day for real!"
She speaks while brushing him from neck to navel with her hand absently and he looks down, trembling, to see she unclasped his stiff collar, unbuttoned his coat and the first pins of his shirt. Scooting off him with a bounce, she sits nearby and retakes possession of her discarded drink, sipping with a smile.
"Why did you..."
"You said you weren't a Captain Stiffboard candidate, at least now you don't look the part anymore!"
She giggles, and despite the embarrassment, he has to admit to himself that he does feel more comfortable and less a prisoner of his uniform that way. The standard military coats are stiff, heavy and the collar can be a pain on hot days. Yet the whole event is very surreal and he downs his wine in two swallows without noticing.
This is the strangest night of my life.
Pascal thumps her empty glass on the table and pushes it off, dragging the second closer to her.
"Don't you think you should enjoy your cocktail a little slower?"
She turns golden orbs his way, an impish smile on her face when she spots the now empty glass flute the lieutenant is clutching like a lifeline, and grins at him.
"Look who's talking!" She giggles. "Besides, it's too good and cold to let it stay there too long!"
She dips a wrist in her pouch again, jiggles it and raises a fistful of gold coins in the air to wave at the waiter.
"Bring my friend another!"
"Whoa what? I just..."
She deposits her money on the table, turns to him and delicately take the flute from his clutches.
"Hu, it's ok, you're not going to faint if you have a few!"
He would rather DIE than admit it, but he rarely drinks, only a few sips at official occasions, so the wine going down so fast is already numbing his ears and making his extremities tingle. Hubert dreads what sort of effect a few glasses would have on him, but he cannot readily say it out loud when she is drinking like a parched sailor right in front of him, right?
Just a few subtle sips here and there to accompany her, let's keep it safe, no more downing a glass without paying attention.
The waiter promptly returns and hands him his refill before leaving, while Pascal watches him silently, the straw of her second colada stuck between her lips, eyes heavy and so dark that he has to look away, too uncomfortable with her stare. The Amarcian he knows is a bubble of energy who cannot stand in place or stop talking, but here she is, looking at him with a gaze that makes his heart hammer his ribs with a staccato rhythm.
"So hum... you didn't mention the reason for your visit. Did you have another expedition in mind or were you just passing through?"
Keep it casual.
She stares off, talking happily.
"Well, Fourier has been very insistent lately that I take some time off. She says I work too hard and that I bother her at the enclave quite a bit. Then again, that's typical of her, but she suggested very stridently that I take a few weeks to go out and travel, get out of her hair, y'know?"
The wine is cool in his throat as he sips, half-listening and vehemently asking his body to calm down.
"I was working on a very cool gadget that I saw in the archive, a device for weather prediction and..."
She drones on, and Hubert feels a numbness unfamiliar to him fill his body. Somewhat disconnected, her voice feels far away but the feeling is not unpleasant. He drifts on, holding the chilled glass to his lips, letting the cool feel soothe his clammy skin.
"...and I missed you sooooo much Hu!"
He chokes on that one and swallows hard, looking at her. Her burning eyes and lazy smile are so enticing, almost an invitation and his heart flutters. In the dim candlelight, her hair seems to catch fire, glowing around her like some mystical aura, and those dilated pupils, full of trust, joy and something he cannot name, pierce him to the soul.
"...Plus now that I think back, I'm pretty sure she wanted me out of her hair long enough to be with Malik a bit longer, haha!"
...What?
He drinks, too flustered and confused for a second, trying to get his bearings in the conversation. Somehow only parts of some phrases made it through and he is fearful of having misheard something. And when did she remove her gloves, laying in a pile with her scarf on the table?
"You mean you didn't know? Well of course you weren't at the enclave, but he's been visiting quite a bit, and when I'm not busy with anything Fourier gets really mad, wants me to leave and whatnot, so it's getting pretty obvious that they keep company!"
Hubert blinks at her, lost partly in shock and also confused at his own time lapse. He places the wine on the table, wipes his palms on his pants and takes a breath.
"Well I... didn't expect this at all, I have to admit. Malik and your sister, who would have thought..."
"I know, right?"
She giggles, and somehow it feels to him that she is much closer to him than she was before this whole conversation has begun. The straw is back in her mouth and he can't stop staring at her lips with longing, jealous of the implement, oblivious to anything else. Warmth rises to his cheek yet again, it's really hot all of a sudden and his hands are shaking on his lap.
What's going on?
Hubert takes a shaky breath and tries to force his legs to respond.
"I think I... I need to take some fresh air..."
His words are coming out almost reticently, and articulating seems to take more effort than usual. Pushing himself on his feet with a grunt, he tries to circle the booth's table to get out, but has to steady himself with his hands on the railings. His muscles are weak and sluggish, but a hand grips his coat tails and yanks him back to the seat, where he falls half-sitting, half-sprawled.
Perhaps I should just stay here for a bit until this passes...
A devilish grin comes into his vision, much closer than expected.
"You shouldn't get up yet, with the way you were... trying to walk it doesn't look like a good idea!"
He cannot help but agree, yet to fall to such a state of intoxication so quickly is extremely embarrassing, not to mention her own proximity and somehow, he is incapable of speaking or moving. The spinning eases, although the flush that heats his features doesn't, and he has to fall back to pushing his glasses up to cover it up. A small hand stops him, and gently removes them from his nose. He blinks and sees Pascal plucking them with a grin, then putting them on her face and pushing them up.
"Hmm, I still can't see why you do this all the time!"
She has an amused pout and a funny way of trying to look above the glasses that makes him go weak all over. Despite his blurry vision, seeing her wearing his frames is extremely exciting.
You are so cute wearing these, gods...
She laughs with abandon, blushing furiously and letting herself fall on her back. Hubert blinks, thinking he missed a joke or...
I... did not just say this out loud...
She eyes him mischievously, seeming flustered and out of breath, and he just now notices that while he is slouched against the couch with his arms on the top, her legs and part of her lap are over him, her back on the length of the bench below him. She breathes hard, having laughed her fill.
"Wow Hu... I... thanks! Maybe I should steal your glasses more often..."
She seems almost shy with a downward cast of her eyes and his heart skips a beat. He wipes his face with both hands, trying to wake up. This whole situation is surreal and cannot be really happening. He feels her limbs straighten over his thighs as she tries to sit and dares not move. A clang of glass on polished wood brings his poor eyesight in focus on her, and that thrice-damned straw is back in her mouth, full of perfumed cocktail liquid.
Needing something, anything to take his mind off the obsessive image, he downs the rest of his wine and clears his throat. Despite his efforts, his gaze is drawn back to the pink puckered lips grasping the straw like a lifeline, while she sips the remaining of her glass slowly.
I'm starting to wonder what your drink tastes like...
She looks away from him, smiles slyly and pushes the empty container on the table. A rosy blush perks on her nose and she wrings her hands for a second before turning a golden gaze on his. He definitely stops breathing when one of her hands brushes his shoulder, goes up past his collar and unto his neck, bristling the short hair at the back of his head. He muffles a shuddering sigh at the sensation, feels blood pumping to his temples in a mad frenzy as a second hand brushes his cheek.
I am surely going insane!
Hubert blinks, tries to catch his breath and gets a tantalizing smell of sugar, flowers and exotic fruits before her hot lips land on his and all thinking processes blank out in his mind. He can only remain frozen in shock and awe as her wet mouth moves on his, a violent tremor shaking his limbs when a low rumble in her throat registers on his senses and a hot, soft tongue slips past to brush his.
I...
He can't believe the soft moan he hears is his own when her fingers trace his jaw and his short hair all at once before Pascal slowly raises her face from his and opens her eyes. Her half-lidded, glowing eyes are so dark as to be almost entirely black, her pale skin is flushed and she pants, still pressed tightly against him.
Time has stopped for him and something snapped inside. He licks his lips, glances at her, her partly open mouth, her disheveled mob of two-tone hair around them both, the shadows of her lashes across her cheek beneath his own glasses, savoring her breath on his skin. Hubert then pushes his nose to caress the tip of hers, brushing the softness of her lips with a butterfly kiss and raises a hand to the curve of her neck, shaking fingers tracing a line from her collarbone to her ear. He can feel her shudder and close her eyes, murmuring.
"...Hu..."
My name on your lips...
He closes the gap between them both, savoring the taste of her, mingled with the fruity remains of her drink, and nothing ever made him lose his mind more than this. Somehow, her hands slide beneath his military coat, brushing against the thin silk shirt that covers him, while his snake up her back and into her hair, gripping her as close to him as possible.
Shaking and out of breath, it takes many minutes before they can even separate for longer than it takes to gulp some air, lips swollen and faces flushed. Pascal's face is laying in the crook of his neck, her warm breath tingling the delicate skin of his neck, while he traces sweet nothings on her spine, up and down, with numb fingers.
"I missed you Pascal."
She hums in acknowledgement, a pleasing sound that reverberates across his body and gives him shivers. He traces circles in the small of her back, speaking softly.
"I never expected you to... surprise me this way..."
He still can't quite find the proper words to express the magnitude of what she did to him, the gates she just crashed down in the fortress of his heart, the fear she evaporated, and yet, he really had not expected something like THIS to occur...
"I... didn't know... how to... Hum."
Her voice is mirthful and shy.
"I mean I... I wasn't able to just... say it and... Captain Malik suggested that we try to... relax a bit... and perhaps things would just... happen you know?"
Perhaps it's the wine, the late hour, an aftermath of the emotional shock or a mix of all of these, but Hubert cannot stop himself from chuckling softly at her explanation. Did she really go and ask Malik for advice in how to snare him? Somehow, the situation makes little sense but he finds it hilarious. Maybe he should send his former comrade a gift.
Pascal looks at him, peering at his glasses-free face contorted in sweet laughter, and grins.
"I LOVE it when you laugh, you should do it more often!"
He chokes on this, surprised, and feels her sliding her cheek against his until her mouth brushes his ear. It feels ticklish, and yet, the sensation of warm air and barely touching lips is almost better than her kisses. He hears her intake of air, a trembling swallow in her throat.
"But mostly I... I love YOU Hubert."
Delicately, he guides her back until he can be face to face with her, plunging his gaze into hers and holding it. Both his hands come up to cup her features with great care, and he presses his lips to her, trembling.
"I have been... madly in love with you... for a long time now Pascal."
She smiles against his kiss and he replies with a grin of his own. Banana coladas might just be the invention of the century.