It was late.
The night was crisp.
And the stars were out.
Vegeta was perched up against the house; sitting on the balcony that was connected to his and Bulma's bedroom, one leg resting on the ledge while the other dangled off of the side. His arm draped across his bent knee. His eyes fixed on the starry sky above.
10 years he has been on this planet, for 10 years he has called this place home.
But was it?
Bulma laid asleep inside. He couldn't join her, couldn't lie next to her while she reeked of those things she called cigarettes. Things were strained between them, his own fucking fault; this much was evident by how much she was smoking those retched sticks. He realized that she too wasn't happy when she stopped trying to hide her nasty habit, blatantly smoking in front of him and Trunks as if it wasn't an issue.
It fucking was.
But her smoking was just a byproduct of the real problem that plagued him. His own internal issues had extended out and affected their relationship. He was aware that she knew something was amiss within himself...but he didn't know if she knew for sure, he wasn't exactly the talking type.
.
The truth was, he wasn't fully happy with his life.
Bulma had tried to speak to him, tried to fix whatever it was that was broken between them, her genius problem solving side shining through. Still the issues remained, un-fixed. He didn't like that she was not happy, but he didn't know how to fix things, not when he couldn't even fix himself.
Her answer to the problem she couldn't fix? Picking up a horrible habit.
One that he absolutely despised
He wondered if she did it out of spite, most likely he thought, she's not stupid. She knew how sensitive his nose was, she knew how he didn't like it, but still she continued anyways.
Vegeta brought his hand up and ran it up his forehead and though his hair, he sighed.
What had his life become?
He didn't know who he was anymore.
He was a husband; mated to an exotic beauty, one that would be able hold her own against any Saiyan woman, if they still existed.
He was a father, a father to a boy of 8, who at every turn surprised him. He could see himself in his son, see his Saiyan traits stand out. This made him immensely proud. Proud that the boy, in only 8 years of life, had reached the status of a super Saiyan. He was proud that his race, his superior warrior race, ran through the veins of the result of something that was never supposed to be.
He had himself a family, a family he was even fond of!
But it wasn't enough
Something was missing, but what?
Was he still considered a true Saiyan?
How did he even get to this point? He was never supposed to settle down! Never supposed to start a family.! He was bound to the woman forever - the result of their passionate affair all those years ago. Nothing was supposed to come from fucking her. It was supposed to be a release of pent up frustration, pent up aggression, pent up sexual tension from 2 entire fucking years of bickering with the woman…
To his utter surprise, one night just wasn't enough. One night didn't quench his thirst for her and he found himself wanting more. So he continued fucking her, purposely picking fights that would rile her up because he knew it would lead to sex. Intentionally seeking her out so they could fuck, wanting to try new places like the gravity room, her lab, the kitchen, the hallway. He couldn't get enough. It was unlike anything he had had ever experienced before - to crave someone like that. He never gave his craving for her a second thought, not realizing that the lust he felt was shifting into actual feelings.
But then she became pregnant, and that lust was put to a screaming halt. Their passion fizzling out as the consequence of their foolish behaviors started to sink in.
At first, he had tried to ignore the situation; taking off in her father's spaceship soon after learning of their predicament. He had thought that if he detached himself 100%, then he could rid himself of his growing feelings he had for her, rid himself of the responsibilities that came with producing a child.
He was wrong.
He learned that when he met his son from the future, fully realizing that he actually cared for the boy when he witnessed his death at the hands of Cell.
How could this be?
How had the gods even deemed him worthy of such things like a mate and child?
He used to kill! Pillage and purge planets without a second thought! There was no remorse, no guilt. He lived his life without care for anyone or anything! All that mattered was him; he was the prince of all Saiyans!
I don't deserve them he thought as he hopped down from the balcony and walked inside the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
I'm not worthy of them he thought as he discarded his clothing onto the floor and got into their bed. Her smell be dammed - he needed to sleep. He wrapped an arm around her, bringing her close to his body, hoping that her presence would chase away his pitiful thoughts.
He knew he needed to find out who he truly was, but he was unsure if he even could at this point. Had he reached the point of no return? Was the ruthless monster that he once was just thing of the past? He needed to know. He needed to figure this mess out, for his own sanity but also for
Trunks and Bulma, they deserved that much.
Bulma shifted in her sleep, snuggling closer into Vegeta's, sighing with content. He could feel the tension release from her body as she sank into his embrace. He knew that not all was lost between them. He just had to figure out what he truly wanted in this life, before things could be rectified.
He was not sure how he was going to do this, but he hoped that an opportunity would present itself soon.