Valentine
© Scarlet-Child
So, I know it's not even remotely close to Valentines day. But I figured I'd write something mushy anyway. And it's about time I did another Jin/Julia fic :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Tekken or any of its characters.
Summary: Jin x Julia (oneshot)
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Julia sighed and tucked a loose wisp of her hair behind her ears. Her hazel eyes, bloodshot behind a pair of thick black frames, stared blankly at the computer screen, occasionally twitching.
"Ugh."
She removed her glasses, and rubbed her eyes with her cold fingertips. Even behind her eyelids her bright eyes could see the flickering light of the computer screen. She groaned again, and slowly left her seat, intending to put on another pot of coffee.
She sought the handle of her favourite ceramic coffee mug, but her shaking fingers lost her grip on it, and it fell to the floor. Shattering with a sickening crack, its contents splattered onto the kitchen tiles. Swirls of smoke danced in the air around her as she pushed her knitted scarf out of the way to inspect the mess.
"Wonderful," she murmured in a sarcastic tone.
She wrinkled her nose, inspecting a large fragment of her once beloved coffee mug in her palm. She exhaled moodily, deeming it to beyond repair, and rather regretfully swept the mess into her bin.
With the gentle whistle of her kettle on the stove, she whistled tunelessly, flicked on the radio, and glanced at the microwave clock. It read six thirty-seven, and with a disheartened sigh, she remembered that not only was today the official conclusion of the King Of Iron Fist Tournament, where the winner would be presented with the entire Mishima Zaibatsu, but it was also Valentines Day.
It wasn't that she held anything personally against the day, it was just that she was never really one to consider it a day to acknowledge; it wasn't like she received a box of chocolates or a card that professed their undying love for her to the un-romantic tune of 'London Bridge Is Falling Down', on a regular basis.
Although, on that irregular basis, when she would accept the present, it seemed to her that if she was to allow her guard to drop for a millisecond to that handsome boy standing hopefully in front of her, she would risk violation, hoodwinking, and most importantly of all, heartbreak. And she had had her share of broken hearts. In fact, she had always considered emotional pain to be far worse than any injury.
An emotional blow was like a splinter; it planted itself deep into your skin, irking you until the point of insanity, until you were able to pull the damn thing out. And even when it had left your skin, it would cause you to bleed, and you are faced with even more pain then before.
The kettle's screams filled the room, and she removed it from the stovetop, wondering how much sleep she had been deprived of. After all, only an hour ago she was researching advanced genetics on reforestation, and now she was comparing men to splinters.
Pulling a few ginger biscuits out of her cupboard, she stacked them between her teeth, took her coffee, ready to plop down onto the couch and pull out a paperback, when there was a rap on her door.
She reached the door languidly, in no mood for visitors. Her qualms were quashed when, after wrenching open the door, she was faced with, not another nagging neighbour, preaching Christian or cookie-selling girl scout, but with a rather large bush of red roses.
This was something that she was definitely not expecting.
The first words that came to her was 'Oh my God' but because of the blockage in her mouth, the words got lost en route and all she could stammer was "Mhhmmmn."
And behind the flowers, she recognised the prominent build and handsome face of the newly inducted CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu.
After the shock had roughly subsided, realism abruptly kicked in. Her hazel orbs widened significantly when she caught his usually nostalgic expression break into laughter.
Julia could only stand completely still, biscuits still balanced between her teeth, one hand on the door, the other holding the hot mug, her chestnut-hued hair completely tangled and unwashed, and her face bearing pink marks from where her glasses had been moments before.
Eventually, in one fast motion, she put down the coffee mug, wrenched the biscuits from her teeth, and wiped her face, where a pink tinge was beginning to spread evenly across her cheekbones. Then, she turned to Jin again, wiping her sticky palms on the back of her blue jeans, a shocked smile sculpted on her face.
"Hey."
He grinned at her, biting back another laugh, and finally held the flowers out to her, a box underneath the matching cellophane wrapping.
"Uh… Happy Valentines Day."
She accepted his gift, eyes lingering over the small card balanced between two of the thorns, and then glanced at Jin again.
"Thanks…"
He turned to leave and suddenly stopped, his hands in his jeans pockets.
"You look pretty with your hair out."
Julia blinked, unsure of how to reply. He smiled at her, a gesture which she returned only half-heartedly, and to save herself further embarrassment, she quickly shut the door, and slammed her back against it.
She exhaled shakily, a loose strand of hair taking flight and returning only to attack her in the eye. The only sounds that were left in her apartment was the distant hum of the radio and his retreating footsteps. She closed her eyes, groaning in humiliating.
"Ugh. Julia Chang, you are such an idiot!"
She tossed the flowers down at her counter with another vacant sigh, her fingertips brushing lightly over the card.
But before she had a chance to open it and read the message, the box caught her attention.
It was a gigantic box of chocolates; the expensive kind that contained over twenty flavours. Eagerly, Julia loosened the bow, tore off the ribbon, and picked out a random chocolate from the collection.
It took a few seconds for her taste buds to kick in, and for it to register that something was definitely not right. Did chocolate always taste this bland? And why did the box look different to the typical one?
In dawning comprehension, she spat out the chocolate in disgust and turned and yelled to her closed apartment door, fists clenched.
"Jin Kazama, you're gonna pay for this!"
And throwing down the box of sugarless chocolates, ignoring the unbridled laughter in the distance, her eyes caught sight of the calligraphy on the card.
Be My Valentine ?
"Bastard," she muttered, pitching the flowers into her dustbin.
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