Author's note: A V/B fic. And people, I already know Veggi's a little OOC. (For the show, at least. I think this is what he's really like when he's alone.) The song belongs to Sarah McGlachlan. And please ignore the waffiness of this piece; it was a weird time in my life.
Disclaimer: Nothing but the over-used idea belongs to me.
Listen as the wind blows from across the great divide
Voices trapped in yearning, memories trapped in time
The night is my companion, and solitude my guide
Would I spend forever here and not be satisfied?
The wind struck the prince
relentlessly, displacing even the stiff, presumably immobile
strands of pointed hair in its severity; however, his eyes remained
closed in concentration, his
placid expression unwavering even as the very rocks under his feet
were blasted from the cliff
face and thrown miles into the chasm below. He stood determined
and defiant atop the cliff,
letting the whooshing sounds of the air hypnotize him. But while
he relaxed into trance, true
peace of mind eluded him. Belying his calm exterior, his thoughts
were distressed.
Cool night air caressed
his face, dulled his senses, though it destroyed the surrounding
landscape. Vegeta released a sigh as soft as a whisper.
His objective was to seek reserves of
power within his body, but the knowledge was not forthcoming, blocked
by memories of her. It
was the way she walked, the intelligence she possessed while still
managing to remain what humans
might term an 'air head'. It was the amazing brilliance of her
eyes as they caught the light of the stars,
victim to their blue depths; at a certain angle, he was convinced they
held the expanse of the ocean.
He loved the gentle way her hair fell over her face as she leaned forward,
and the serious expression
she wore when deep in thought; the fire in her gaze and crimson blush
alighting her features when
he would insult her, and even the tone and texture of her voice as
she called him an arrogant jerk,
because the love she exuded belied her harsh words. Mostly it
was her smell, her delighted
smile, the delicateness of her heated skin beneath his hands, shivering
slightly at his touch. The
desperate plea of her voice in their fevered passion.
Vegeta grimaced - the first
outward sign of his breached concentration. Acknowledging
that no insight of power would come as long as his mind strayed, he
sat at the cliff's edge,
looking out at the desert far below.
And I would be the one
To hold you down
Kiss you so hard
I'll take your breath away
And after, I'd wipe away the tears
Just close your eyes, dear
Memories of the nights they
shared came unbidden through the darkness of his mind.
Once again he felt himself lost in love - a frightening feeling for
the stoic, cold warrior. Such
emotions weren't acceptable on Vegeta-sei and, in fact, were punishable
for warriors. It was
believed that to attain the highest level of skill, one must rid himself
of his baser emotions and
absorb himself in the fight. Absolute ruthlessness was accredited
to the victories of all the best
warriors. Vegeta was raised a fighter, trained in their tactics
and beliefs. Years of living with a
Saiyan's code of honor had proved to him his teachings were correct
- at first. The introduction
of love threw his world off balance, but it was hard to dismiss so
many years of his life.
Through this world I've stumbled
So many times betrayed
Trying to find an honest word to find
The truth enslaved
He never had any qualms with
the uncaring life he was forced to live, destroying because
there was nothing else. And he enjoyed it. The blood of
those who had wronged him stained his
hands and he reveled in it, rejoicing in the redemption of his dignity.
Every planet he annihilated
represented a past wrong, and he corrected it with a mighty attack.
Never did he question his
motives, although he vaguely wondered why, sometimes at night, faces
haunted him and chased
away sleep. His heart was a void then, and night became the only
time he noticed. Until now,
anyway.
His derelict heart unnerved
him now, and he scarcely believed it still beat. But its pulse
was always strong, drumming in his ears when he was with Bulma.
Not only in the passionate
nights, but simply from being near her. Its steady rhythm, filled
with life, scared him - not because of
the strength of his emotion, but because the void had vanished to be
replaced with a feeling
honorable Saiyans did not possess. Love's existence startled
him. The thought that he could
love ate at his temperament, causing him to yell more than even he
deemed necessary; so he
stifled love until he knew why he was inflicted.
Oh you speak to me in riddles
And you speak to me in rhymes
My body aches to breathe your breath
Your words keep me alive
Their relationship was shaky
to begin with. Anyone who saw the odd couple noticed they
were always in an argument. The neighbors often filed complaints
about their fights - hearing
thunderous noises of shouting voices and clattering objects.
But their apologies would involve
hot kisses, exploring hands, and the exotic tingle of warm breath on
flesh.
So much he could tell her
in those moments after a fight. I love you hung on his lips like
an anchor to save him; and, like an anchor, he feared it would ground
him. He continually chose
not to say the words that were so foreign, yet meant so much
to him - and her, as well. He knew
she was waiting to hear them. The time would come eventually,
but he had to understand his
words completely and accept them for all they stood for. He hoped
Bulma could wait just a little
while longer.
And I would be the one
To hold you down
Kiss you so hard
I'll take your breath away
And after, I'd wipe away the tears
Just close your eyes, dear
The internal struggle
with his feelings was unbearable sometimes, like a war being waged
in his soul. 'I love you' - the simple phrase would end it, but
he was afraid. A part of him
believed telling Bulma his true emotions would tie him down to Earth,
keep him from the
battles he so loved. The other part knew that if he kept it to
himself, Bulma would leave him,
and he could no longer live life alone. He couldn't bear to think
that he might push away the
one person who truly loved him.
Into this night I wander
It's morning that I dread
Another day of knowing of
The path I fear to tread
Last night Bulma had
come to him, concerned about his recent behavior; the way he had
been avoiding her, or the times he didn't that were filled with cruelty.
Naturally, he had said a
smart remark like, 'Why would I need to tell you, woman', that sent
her into one of the tantrums
she always had when he was 'mean' to her. It wouldn't have bothered
him if the fight had ended
normally for topics such as this - she'd take some time for herself
then see him at breakfast the
next day and act as if nothing had happened - but instead, she had
stalked into his room and
demanded to know if he loved her - hell, felt anything for her.
He flew off like a coward to the
very spot he was now; to the place he always retreated to soothe his
tensions.
Vegeta once more cursed
himself for a coward in failing to do the one thing he feared:
love. Dreading the scene he'd be forced to face in the morning,
he stood desolately on the cliff's
edge, looking out across the barren dessert and awaiting the sun he
wished never to rise.
Oh into the sea of waking dreams
I follow without pride
Nothing stands between us here
And I won't be denied
What kind of warrior
was he to have fear, especially of an emotion as trivial as love.
He's
a disgrace to his race for feeling the denied sentiment, and he's a
disgrace to humankind for
not acting upon it. Was there any sanctuary from his lost dignity?
Yes. Often he
dreamt of living a joyful life in which he confessed his love, and the
ending was happily ever after. He banished fear like he would
any other foe and was rewarded the
princess, Bulma. He imagined - God help him - living a life similar
to Goku's. Yet again the
idiot had bested him! But all was forgotten in dreams.
There was no Goku, just he and Bulma, alone
in the world, living a fairy tale life.
And I would be the one
To hold you down
Kiss you so hard
I'll take your breath away
And after, I'd wipe away the tears
Just close your eyes...
The first hint of dawn
began peeking over the clouds. He didn't move immediately, but
remained in thought, considering his options; there were none.
Vegeta gazed up at the sky before
sighing and tiredly stretching his legs. Flying off toward home,
his mind on Bulma, he hoped she
would forgive him this one last time.