ATTENTION! PLEASE READ THIS FIRST: Some of you may notice that, in this little one-shot, the girl in the cottage is never named. This I did for a reason. Basically, this started out as a something I just made up one day to tell my nieces (that version was a lot shorter and had a lot less detail than this one). They liked it so much they told me I should write it down. So I did. However, when I was telling the story to them, though I used Yusuke as the male lead, I didn't name any known female lead. I decided to keep it like that because I thought it would be fun if the readers could imagine whoever they wanted as the girl in the cottage, be it Keiko or anybody else. You could even imagine yourself as the lucky lady!;) So with that said, have fun.^_^
It was a dark, cold, and windy night. The naked trees of the forest raised claw-like branches up to the black sky, as if they were gnarled, bony hands outstretched in supplication to the heavens. The full moon peeked through breaks in the gray clouds trying to obscure it from the sight of those mortals below. The wind howled through the branches of the trees, creating a mournful wail that was joined and aggrandized by the spine chilling addition of the many voices of several wolf packs on the hunt.
Inside a little cottage, nestled deep in the bowels of these dark woods, a shiver ran through the body of a young girl. All the lamps were lit and a fire crackled in the hearth. She was glad she had thought to bring in plenty of firewood earlier in the day. Tonight was not a night one should venture outside. The cries of the wolves could be heard all around the small, lonely cottage. Also, she'd been plagued by a prevailing sense of foreboding ever since the sun had first dipped below the horizon. No, tonight was indeed not a night to go out in.
The fear of this vague sense of impending doom, as well as the eerie harmony created by the ensemble of wind and wolves, was what kept the girl from sleep. On nights like these she felt safer with the lamps burning. The fire was not only for the extra light, but also to help ward off the chill that racked her body every time the keening of the outside elements reached a higher pitch and the rattling of her windows increased. No, she was definitely not sleeping tonight. The only thing she could do was hope that it would pass quickly and without mishap. Her hope, however, was to be in vain.
A sudden sound startled her from her rumination. It wasn't particularly loud, or maybe it was, considering that it could be heard over the noise produced by the wind, wolves, shaking windowpanes, and creaky house. Either way, she noticed it more for being out of sync with the rest of the general din, rather than the loudness of it. Immediately, she stood from her sitting place before the fire, alert and ears straining. She waited for several minutes, but heard nothing more out of the ordinary. As she was about to return to her seat, however, she heard it again. And this time it seemed closer. Slowly, she walked to the window beside her door. Drawing back the curtain, she peered into the darkness. She saw nothing. Pulling her head back, she was going to drop the curtain back into place, when a distant flash through the trees caught her eye. She dipped her head towards the window once again and squinted against the gloom. Then, abruptly, an ear-splitting BOOM! shook the entire cottage and elicited a screech from the girl as she stumbled backwards, falling gracelessly on her backside. This was followed by several crashes, and finally ended in a BANG! at her door that again shook her whole house! In a flash, she was across the room and against the opposite wall, cowering behind the couch. She remained there for many minutes before the initial animal terror receded and rational thought could take its place in her mind once more.
After a while, she began to realize that all was quiet. Too quiet. The wolves had stopped howling and even the wind had died down. The absolute silence was…disconcerting, to say the least. Slowly and carefully, she peeked over the top of her couch, glancing around, then at the door. When nothing happened, she got up and cautiously made her way back towards the-now rather sinister looking-cottage entrance. Stepping lightly, so as to avoid any noise that might be made by the creaky boards in the floor, she reached her destination. She hesitated for only a moment then lifted the solid oak bar from across the door. Sliding back the bolt, she grabbed the handle and, before her courage could fail her, yanked it open. Gazing out into the night, she saw…nothing. She swiveled her head, first left, then right. Still, there was nothing. Maybe she had accidentally fallen asleep by the fire and dreamed it all.
Just as she was about to close the door again, she heard something. A soft groan, coming from somewhere…at her feet. Stiffening, she slowly looked down. There, on her doorstep, was a man. His face was shadowed, but enough light was cast on him by the lamps inside the house that she could clearly see the large gash in his side. Another quick glance about revealed that no one else had appeared in the vicinity since the last time she'd checked. Once again, she hesitated, unsure of what she should do. Sensible girls didn't take in strange men passed out in front of their doors at night. Then again, sensible girls probably wouldn't have opened the door at all. The wound looked deep and was bleeding profusely. If he didn't at least get it bandaged, he would most likely die before morning. She sighed. Sensible or not, she wasn't cruel enough to let someone bleed to death in front of her house when she could help it. Decision made, she proceeded in attempting to drag him into the cottage. After much grunting, shoving, pulling, and pushing she finally succeeded in the endeavor. As she wiped the sweat from her brow, she couldn't help thinking that he was many times heavier than he looked.
Realizing that she would be incapable of lifting the man onto the bed or couch, she decided to treat him where he lay. She rushed to find bandages and scissors and a wash basin. Placing the items beside the bleeding man, she then set water to boil in her tea kettle. Returning to his side, she knelt beside him and began cutting through his shirt. She would need to remove it in order to clean and dress his injury properly. After this was done, she had nothing to do but wait for the water to heat. For the first time since she found him at her doorstep, she really looked at him…and caught her breath. It appeared as though he had been through a terrible battle. He was battered and bruised and his clothes…well, she was sure they had seen better days. The shirt she had just removed from him had holes, rips, and tears everywhere and, through the dirt and blood stains, one could hardly tell that it had once been white. His pants, made of a rough and heavy material, were in equally bad shape. But all that wasn't what made her breath catch in her throat or her heart begin to pound. He was gorgeous! His black hair looked as though it had been slicked back at one point, but was now in a bit of disarray. No doubt due to his recent, um…adventures. Long eyelashes graced his cheeks and he had a nice, straight nose. Odd, if one thought about it, that he should have a straight nose after the beating he seemed to have taken. He had a strong, angular jaw and full lips, too. His skin was a light, healthy tan in color. She could see now, why he had been so heavy to carry. Every inch of him was hard, trained-to-perfection muscle. That wasn't something one often saw in boys his age, for he didn't look to be that much older than her. About fifteen or sixteen, she'd guess. Sure, the local farm boys were very muscular, but she doubted a single one of them sported the washboard stomach that currently held her attention. He practically glowed with masculine beauty.
At that moment, the screeching of her tea pot slammed her back into reality, making her jump in the process. Did it really have to be that loud? That aside, she was reminded that now was not the time to be ogling some stranger when there was a job to be done, namely saving his life. No matter how unnervingly handsome he was.
Taking a cloth and grabbing the kettle from where it hung over the fire, she poured the steaming water into the wash basin. After waiting a few minutes for the scalding water to cool, she dipped the cloth into the basin and began to clean out the wound. It didn't appear to be festering, so that much was good. She made sure to wash it thoroughly in order to avoid that very outcome. She then bandaged it tightly, tying it off with a neat and secure knot. She took a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh. Finally, she was done. That had taken longer and was harder than she had expected it to be, with all the shifting about necessary to get the bandage strips around him. Well…now what was she going to do with him?
Even as this thought crossed her mind, the boy began to stir. His hand twitched and a moan escaped him. She leaned over him to see if he was waking up, or if he was just fidgeting in his unconscious state. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open and, in the moment it took her to gasp, he was sitting up and had a hand around her throat, cutting off the sound almost before it began. She coughed and choked in his vice-like grip. Tears started pooling in the corners of her eyes as she struggled to breathe. She yanked and clawed at his hand, but to no avail. The more she fought him, the tighter his grip got. Of all the ways she could have imagined herself dying, being killed by a person she had just rescued was not one of them. That didn't mean, however, that she couldn't see the irony of this situation.
Finally, she gave up and went limp in his grasp. At this point it didn't matter how much she tried anyway, so she might as well die gracefully. But that didn't mean she was going to just leave it at that. Oh no, if she was going to die then she was gonna damn well make sure he never forgot her. She was going to go out staring him straight in the eye, right into those golden eyes, with every ounce of pride, disdain, and hatr-
Her thoughts were abruptly cut off when she landed on the floor face first, the hand supporting her gone just as suddenly as it had come. Of course, that also meant her windpipe was no longer constricted. She coughed and hacked, gasping in deep breaths of sweet, precious air. One had absolutely no idea how wonderful air was until they were deprived of it. After regaining her composure, somewhat, she looked up at the boy to find him staring intently down at his bandaged torso. Sitting up, she sucked in a breath, about to give him a well-deserved piece of her mind, when she noticed that he seemed to be…maybe she was imagining things, but…he appeared to be…sniffing? Before she could process this strangeness, his head snapped up to look at her. She flinched at the motion, then-berating herself for acting like a kicked puppy-forced herself to hold eye contact. He was the one in the wrong here, after all, and she refused to be intimidated by him. His dark eyes bored into hers, curiosity flashing in their depths.
…Wait a minute... dark eyes?! She could have sworn they were golden mere moments ago! Hmmm…maybe it was a pre-death hallucination. Yes, that must have been it. People couldn't just up and change their eye color whenever they pleased, aft—
Once again, her train of thought was suddenly—and rudely, in her opinion—interrupted by the afore mentioned. During the short time she was off wool gathering, he had leant in close; much too close for her comfort. Leaning away from him, she snapped, "Hey! Just what do you think you're doing?!"
She received no reply and her attempts to put distance between them only made him scoot closer. Again, he appeared to be sniffing…except, this time, he was sniffing her!
"H-Hey!" she yelled, blushing, as his nose was hovering very close to her neck now, so close that she could feel his warm breath on her skin. A shiver ran down her spine and she was pretty sure fear had nothing to do with it. Alarm bells went off in her head at that thought. No way was she going to get all hot under the collar for some guy she just met in the middle of the night and half dead, no less! Slapping a hand over his face, practically covering his eyes, she attempted to shove it away. She was reluctant to push too hard, still aware of his injury. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to matter either way, as he remained largely unmoved. "Stop it! Seriously, what are you doing?!"
Pulling back, he grabbed her wrist, looked at the bandages, then glanced at her once more. His brows were slightly furrowed and there was a question in his eyes. Understanding dawning, she answered the unspoken query, "Yeah, I bandaged you up. I mean, what else could I do, you were dying on my doorstep for pity's sake. I couldn't just leave you there."
He smirked at this and amusement danced in his eyes, almost as if he were laughing at the idea of dying. Anger darkened her visage, and she rapped out a tart reply, "I don't see what's so funny. If it hadn't been for me, you'd still be outside, marinating in your own blood and waiting for the wolves to eat you!"
That comment only seemed to amuse him further, as he really did laugh this time. His smile lent a mischievous glint to his eyes and her knees most likely would have buckled right then, had she been standing. Or maybe not; she was still upset after all. However, she couldn't manage to keep the blush from rising to her cheeks. She decided to pass it off as a flush of anger, something rather easily done at the moment.
"Fine!" she snapped, "Be that way! You and your male pride can go hang, for all I care. Don't expect me to help you next time you decide to get yourself hacked to pieces."
She snatched her wrist from his hand and stood up, about to stomp away in irritation. Before she could take a step, he caught her wrist again and pulled her back down in front of him. She glared at him, trying to yank her hand back, but to no avail. His grip was like iron, firm and unyielding, yet not to the extent of hurting her. That didn't mean she was going to give up, though. Hell no! If there was one thing she hated, it was being manhandled. He, on the other hand, merely grinned at her pointless struggles, then pulled her to his chest and wrapped his free arm tightly around her.
When she had first felt the strong tug that had landed her in current position, she'd let go a small yelp. The minute she realized what had happened, however, she froze. Her brain went blank, she forgot how to breathe, and her heart stopped dead. The only thing her mind was able to register was the feel of his strong arms around her, hard muscles pressing against her upper arms, and his hands on her back and right shoulder. She was ultra-aware of her hands, placed as they were on his naked chest, and his breath fanning across her face. Her own eyes widened when she saw his eyelids lowering and the distance between them closing. Suddenly, her heart went from a complete standstill to a flat out run, like a racehorse out of the gate. She was able to breathe again and her brain unfroze just in time to panic. Wait just a minute! This was all happening way too fa—
Before she could even finish that thought, his mouth pressed against hers. All reason flew out the window. Her eyes slowly shut and she sighed throatily, leaning into his kiss. Sliding her hands up his chest, she encircled his neck with her arms, pulling him closer. Her senses were on overload. Electricity surged through her nervous system, making her tingle from the top of her head all the way down to the tips of her toes. Her whole body quivered when he deepened the kiss, nipping lightly at her bottom lip. Any notion of time had fled. She was lost in his touch, his scent, his taste, in the feel of him. Her fingers had somehow become entangled in his—surprisingly soft—jet black hair. He was the only thing her mind could possibly process right then. In that moment, there was him and only him.
Just when she thought her brain was about to explode, he broke away. The small noise of protest she uttered made him smile again. However, the two of them had been oxygen deprived long enough. They both needed a breather. As she hung limply in his arms, panting, her muddled senses began to return. Forget exploding, her brain had already melted into a pile of goo! Who knew kissing could feel that good! He lowered his head, and she thought he would kiss her again, when suddenly he stopped. His head whipped around to face the door, nostrils flaring. She was sure that if he'd had dog ears, they'd be tipped forward and twitching. She looked back and forth between him and the door, wondering what he was doing. Then she heard it. A rising howl rent the night air, sending a chill down her spine once again, but not the good kind. It wasn't like the howls she'd heard from the wolf packs earlier. Somehow, this one sounded louder and far more…sinister; like maybe it was something bigger.
As the last notes of that singularly disturbing howl came to a close, a growl erupted from the boy. She jumped and stared at him in shock. That was most definitely not a human sound. It had rumbled through his chest, sending shockwaves through her own body, as he still held her close. She now watched with dumbstruck horror as he changed right before her eyes. His nails grew long and sharp. Blue tattoos started appearing on his chest, shoulders, neck, cheeks, and forearms. Tendons began standing out on his body, as if suddenly stretched taut. His lips were still pulled back in a snarl, letting her see the fangs that had replaced his eye teeth. His hair, now down to the floor, was wild and unruly, bangs falling into his eyes. He turned those eyes on her then, and she caught her breath as she saw they were golden.
She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to do! She could only gape at him with wide eyes, jaw working up and down to say words that wouldn't come. He smiled once more as he brought them both to their feet, though now it looked rather fierce for the addition of the fangs. Grabbing her chin, he kissed her again, quick and hard, those same fangs scraping her bottom lip and sending a shudder through her. She was surprised to find it wasn't the bad kind. Even more so when she realized that, somewhere deep inside of her, she liked the way he looked. The fact of the matter was, if she'd thought he was gorgeous before, he was absolutely magnificent now. So she leaned in, once again reaching up to encircle his neck. However, he soon pulled away, much to her disappointment. She knew he was about to leave and she wanted to ask him if she would ever see him again. But before she could even open her mouth, he was gone. He seemed to have disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving only a ragged shirt and an open door as proof that he had ever been there. Even still, there would be times when the girl would wonder whether or not she had dreamed it all.