Soul and Soldier
x- Ok, yes, Ali is an OC, but kind of needed her for the child in this fanfiction. Who else was actually going to play that? Duo? Well, I wouldn't be surprised… This is the multi-chapter sequel to Hidden Warmth that I have neglected for many months. To understand this story, please read my one-shot Hidden Warmth before reading this one, please. Kthanksbye.
P.s. Reviews are welcome, of all sorts. No criticism means no improvement and that's just no fun, isn't it? Just don't be rude, yeah? :)
Chapter One
A small click of the lock and the door to the small apartment opened; inside entered Trowa, as his foot opened the door wider due to his arms being preoccupied with a sleeping child in one and the bag of groceries in another.
He walked over to the counter and dumped the paper bag on it before supporting the little girl with both arms. Her head rested on his shoulder as she continued to dream away in her innocent sleep. He smiled slightly as he secured his grip around her. She still had his over coat draped around her small body, with her little doll propped to her chest. Her brown hair was mussed and greasy, and her face was dirty with small cuts crossing down her chin. Well, wasn't that to be expected when she was living on the street? The streets could not be a safe place for a child her age, and Trowa tutted again at the thought, more than he had when he first saw her scavenging the bins for food.
An oversized shoe fell off her small foot. Trowa ignored it as he placed her on his sofa, sitting beside her and continuing to scrutinize her. He took in how scrawny her physique was and her immune system must've been poor.
With a sigh at the thoughts, Trowa stood up and walked over to the kitchen sink. He pulled out a silver bowl from a nearby cupboard and filled it with warm water. Filling it with small droplets of Dettol, the elite soldier walked over to Ali and stroked her forehead with a soft hand. She groaned as she woke up suddenly and sat up in shock to her new surroundings. She was inside an unfamiliar building, and her heart began to race with panic at the strange environment. However, Ali settled down as she recognised the kind face of the man who had given her a piece of bread when she was hungry and willingly took her off the street.
"This is going to hurt a bit," warned Trowa as he dampened a piece of cloth into the bowl and pressed it gently against Ali's cuts. She winced slightly but her muscles relaxed again as the stinging sensation toned down. He continued to wipe her face with the cloth, removing grease marks and dirt from her face until an actual radiance of fairness could be seen. He tilted his head as his hand ran through a strand of hair, his fingers stuck between various knots.
"C'mon," he said, as she looked up at him with her big brown eyes in question. "Let's get you cleaned up." He stretched his hand out. Ali, with a small smile on her face, took the kind man's hand and followed him to where he was leading her.
He had given her a nice, soothing bath, something she had not experienced in such a long time. Though he had no clothes to provide her, Trowa took it in his custom to wash and dry the clothes she was wearing before giving them to her. Even though they were still ripped, they were still clean enough to sleep in without discomfort.
She sat back on the sofa, her hands around her little doll and head looking down on the ground. Ali honestly did not know what to say, but inside, she was beaming at the thought that she was no longer on the cold streets. She was clean, she felt fresh and even though she didn't know the stranger who had taken her in, she felt a safe sort of presence from his enigmatic aura.
"How old are you Ali?" asked the kind man, as he bent down to her level with his sage eyes softly staring into her big auburn orbs.
"S-seven and..." Ali placed her doll down and stretched out her fingers as she began to count mentally.
"Seven years and five months," she confirmed.
Trowa smiled at the innocence in which little Ali perceived to him, but his heart sank as he took in her age. Such a young little girl left on the streets to fend for herself? He almost felt sick at the thought, but managed to keep it together as usual.
"Are you hungry?" he asked kindly, his position still squatting. Ali bit down on her lip before shaking her head and fidgeting with her fingers. At that very moment, Ali let out a loud yawn, causing Trowa to chuckle slightly. "Come on, lets get you some rest."
He took her hand and led her to his bedroom, where she would stay while he slept on the couch that night.
"I'll be outside if you need anything,"
"Thank you, mister," she said, as she settled in the comfortable bed, pulling the warm white covers over her small form. She let out a yawn before her head hit the plush pillow and her eyes closed.
Trowa couldn't help but smile as he watched her fall asleep into, what he guessed, the most peaceful sleep she will have. He let his deed devour his heart with such warmth and desire, that he felt a sudden urge of devotion to the child he had taken in from the harsh environment of the street.
He placed her little doll besides her before walking away and closing the door softly, letting little Ali sink into the first of her many sweet dreams.