I don't own DBZ. Just this story
Realization
As he leans down over me, pointing to something on my sketches, I realize that this is the first time I've ever really looked at Vegeta. I'm seated at my desk, where I've been toiling away for the past few hours, and Vegeta is standing behind me, where he has been, silently, for the past thirty minutes or so. The chair creaks as he rests his hand on its back. I can smell the musky scent of sweat floating off of him. He's speaking to me, pointing and motioning with his hand, but I can't for the life of me concentrate on what he's saying. All I can think about is how handsome he looks right now with the light of my table lamp reflecting off the dark walls, making shadows all along his face. He is stunning.
"Woman!" I snap back into reality, my eyes focusing on his. I feel a slight blush forming on my cheeks. He narrows his eyes at me and stands up straight.
"Are you even listening to me?"
"Yeh," I manage to mutter. He stares at me, his eyes cold. I watch the muscles in his jaw tighten.
"Yeh," I say louder, more forcefully, narrowing my own eyes in the process, trying to cover up the embarrassment of being caught staring at him. He sticks his nose in the air, emitting a low guttural sound from deep in his throat.
"Then fix it how I showed you," he sneers and turns sharply on his heel, stalking out of my lab with a grace I wish I had half of. I let out the air I didn't realize I was holding and lean back in my chair.
I glance at the small clock on my table and blink to clear my eyes. The red numbers blaringly read 1:32. I blink again as the exhaustion falls on me all at once. I yawn and stretch.
"Oh, Bulma, he's going to be royally pissed when he finds out you really weren't listening to him," I smile to myself. Slowly I pick myself up out of the chair and make my way to my bed.
I'm so close I can feel the stray strands of her hair on my face. She smells soft, some kind of flowery aroma on her hair and skin. I point to the drawings she's made of my training bots. I've been standing here, watching her for a while now, and I'm surprised at how impressed I am. But these prototypes are still sub par to my standards, and I pull myself out of my comfort zone to communicate my preferences to her. I rest my hand on the back of her chair and it squeaks. I can feel the heat of her body on my fingers. The more I explain what I need from the new bots the more I feel as if I'm speaking to myself. I steal a glance over at her. She's staring blankly at me.
"Woman!"
She jumps. I narrow my eyes and stand upright. Just as I suspected, she was daydreaming.
"Are you even listening to me?" I demand.
"Yeh" she replies quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. I clench my jaw and silently count to five in my head. I hate being ignored.
"Yeh," she repeats, this time with that familiar attitude in her tone. She narrows her eyes at me. I humph and jut out my chin, letting out an involuntary growl in the process.
"Then fix it how I showed you," I snarl at her, making an about face right out of the room. I can feel her eyes boring into my back during my entire exit.