Regardless, I love

Summary: A glimpse into the dark beginnings of what would become Bulma and Vegeta's lasting relationship. A darker take on the tale.

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I hug my knees to my chest and let the tears silently fall down my cheeks. I can't make a noise for fear of waking the sleeping man laying beside my sitting form. He would be angry and another argument would ensue. I don't know if I could take another one tonight. It seems we can't even stop arguing long enough to have sex, somehow we even manage to have an argument in the middle of it. I think he likes getting me all worked up, I have no other explanation for it. I refuse to admit that he really is just this cruel to me.

The tears seep in through my barely opened mouth and I wrinkle up my nose at the salty taste. I'm not usually so emotional about this but tonight was a breaking point for me. He had made a comment about the planet and how he'd be glad to see it, and the people on it, go. I, of course, clamped onto his bait and we started arguing once more. He was already in a bad mood tonight as it was, and was particularly vicious in his personal verbal attacks on me. I had told him to get out of my room, that I wanted nothing to do with him until he calmed down. That wasn't good enough for him and he told me as such. His hands had been rougher and harder on my delicate skin then ever before, but I can't honestly say that he forced himself on me. At some point, I gave in to him and to the feel of him. He's too intoxicating and my feelings for him are too strong.

So why am I sitting here awake and crying while he sleeps peacefully beside me? I want to wake him up and scream at him, tell him to leave my house and never come back. But yet, I can't. I gave up so much to be with him because I was in love with who I thought he could be. I know now that he can never be the man that I used to fantasize and dream about. That man would never be so rough as to leave bruises on my arms and thighs. I should have taken him for what he was, instead of making up some perfect rendition of him with accompanying thoughts that I could change him. I should never have let Yamcha walk out of my life, to be replaced by the sleeping Prince beside me.

I take a deep breath to try to calm my emotions as I let myself lay down in bed. The worst thing about this is that I feel too deeply for him. I don't know how or why, but I do, and I don't want to lose him.

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It's a mild night and I sit in my bedroom window looking out at the stars. I'm waiting for the Prince to leave his training toy behind and come inside. The five previous nights he hasn't come to my room demanding satisfaction and I'm starting to get uneasy. The most he's gone is two nights since we started this affair. He had eloquently said one night, "if you have it, there's no sense in not using it," in reference to me. Something in my heart tells me that he's purposefully distancing himself from me, I know that I'll soon have to let go of him. I don't want to dwell on such thoughts but I know them to be true. The more time he spends here, the more discouraged he becomes and I'm sure he sees me as no more then a distraction to him. So, I know he's going to leave me before I'm ready for him to, I just wish I knew when.

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I can't stop the flow of tears, I try but I can't. Even the disgusted looks the Prince shoots me every couple of minutes can't give me the strength to make them stop. I watch through wet eyes as he throws any possessions he needs into a duffel bag, filled mostly with his training wear. I followed him up from the kitchen this night when I caught him raiding our cupboards for any type of food that would keep over a long period of time. He hasn't said a word to me, but I know he's leaving tonight.

He finally drops the bag on the floor and turns to me, "stop your snivelling," he commands.

I bite my lower lip and stand up, "I don't want you to go," I tell him.

"That's not my problem," he replies and takes a few steps closer to me, "I didn't ask for you to get attached."

"That's not fair," I state and place my hands on my hips, "you knew before anything ever happened, you just used it to your advantage."

He smirks at me, "can you blame me?" he asked, "I had finally found a use for you."

I bit back any nasty retorts I had forming in my brain and watched as he picked up his bag once more. Without another word or look, he walked out of the room and left me to my overwhelming emotions.

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I find myself watching the stars a lot lately. I wonder about the vastness of space and sometimes let my brain find it's way to thoughts of the Prince. I try to keep him out of my mind now, realising months ago that I deserve better then to be treated like nothing more then a common whore a few nights out of the week. He had never given me anything more, never a kind word or an affectionate touch. He was always hard and cold, his mouth always ready with a scathing comment. But somehow, throughout all that, I had let him into my heart and now, it was shattered.

A month or so after he left, I reconciled with Yamcha, but it didn't last. He told me that he couldn't raise another mans child after we had found out that I was pregnant and had been for about 6 weeks. It's funny, it didn't hurt as much saying goodbye to Yamcha, as it did to watch the Prince leave. He had wanted me to have an abortion, but I wouldn't, so he left and I let him go without a single tear.

I reach down and rub my hand gently over my swelling belly and promise myself that this will be the only connection I have to the Prince from this moment on. I will not let him treat me like a slave when he returns and I certainly will not have him treating this child as such. With one final look into the stars before turning away from the window, I involuntarily find myself praying for someone to keep him safe and deliver him home.

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A/N: Well, there you have it, hope you enjoyed it and be sure to leave me a review. I'm not usually so depressing, but I felt a need to write this tonight after getting some inspiration from the words 'letting you go', which by the way, if anyone would like to leave me a couple words or a sentence in a review, I'll definitely write a one shot to go with it. I have to pull my inspiration from somewhere.

If anyone who reads this is also waiting for an update on "Windows to the Soul", I have the first half of the chapter written and it should be out soon.