Night Watch
He walked the halls at midnight, feeling like some glorified night watchman, carrying a lantern and everything. He couldn't even nod to the other passing night guards,, pulling down his hat to hide even though every one of them knew him by sight.
He was the one that had been pulled off of Princess DG's guard. He could practically hear them thinking it, judging him, the dusty cogs of thought turning. Cain ignored them. He tried his best to look like he was ignoring them. He was a terrible liar.
He tramped the hall by the library. He'd been told at the training session (he was twenty years older than the pip-squeak training him, he'd thought with still-burning ire) to investigate any unreported light source. The flickering of a flame sputtered from under the door slightly ajar to the library. Groaning, rolling his eyes like a teenager, stamping his feet, Cain deviated from his given path and opened the door to the library.
He couldn't hope for a brawl. Oh, for a gunfight. What he would do for a villain, cackling maniacally. He would superimpose that pimpled trainer's face over that of whatever mustachioed prowler he came upon and pummel the poor victim senseless, faceless. He needed the release. Oh, for a prowler.
Cain entered on the candle-lit study desk of a dark-haired princess, and he sighed at the loss of hope. By the way her hair was stacked, it was Princess DG. And, damn damn damn the squeal of the hinges (he somehow blamed Ambrose for this; he would find reason to justify it later), she looked up from books and scrolls and inkwells as he halfway entered.
Her lips squirmed, halfway between scowl and smile, as if trying to hold in inappropriate laughter. "Hello, Mr. Cain."
"What are you doing up so late, kiddo?" He asked. He hoped he sounded concerned. He'd tried for concerned.
"Studying," she replied, ducking her head back down. "Toto's a slave driver."
He examined her pitiful candelabra, two lit candles sputtering, drowning in their own wax and barely two inches long anymore. He lifted his lantern, shedding a shaft of welcome brightness. "Need a light?"
Cain laid on the window seat behind her, sighting satisfactorily at a job well-avoided, DG scrawling notes fervently, studiously. He didn't knew she had it in her. He tilted his hat down over his eyes, peering sideways at her, the curve of her back through the blue dress. It set off her eyes. Especially in candlelight. Lanternlight. Starlight.
"Sorry," he muttered out of the side of his mouth before pulling the hat all the way down over his eyes. He didn't see her turn in her chair, but she did.
"That won't get you back on Princess Duty," she told him, not as snipped as she had been half a day before.
"Have a heart, DG," he groaned as he pulled his hat back away from his eyes. "This is a nightmare."
"Then say you're sorry like you mean it," she replied. She was curved just right, back arched indignantly, arms akimbo, hands balled on her hips and bottom lip jutting out.
He smirked imperceptibly. "I'm sorry I walked in on your fitting session."
But he wasn't.
AN: Hello folks! Long time no see! This Valentine's Day, I have literally nothing to do, so I've decided to pick my 14 favorite pairings and write some sappy vignettes for them! Not all of them will be from one fandom, so if you're interested, check out my profile! This one is CDG, one of my favorites!! It's great to revisit some of these old OTPs. Leave me some love, I'll see you later, and stay awesome!!