Okay. Disclaimer. Still doing that, huh? I know Beetlejuice isn't mine, but why the heck can't I pretend? Oh well, Beetlejuice, Lydia, the Maitlands, Prudence, Bertha, Claire, Prince Vince, Juno, the Neitherworld, other assorted characters... Nrggghhh.... Not mine.
For the love of mercy, isn't that bad enough? Don't sue, too!
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...I should have so much to say, after being gone this long. And I guess I do. Just wish I knew better how to say it. Okay, for starters, my precious 'original work' that drew me away... I haven't been able to write more than three pages in the past few months. Writing this stuff spoiled me for my own stuff. Couldn't explain why. Couldn't stop thinking of Beetlejuice, and what I wanted to write. So here, for an 'experiment,' is what I want to write next... Provided anyone wants to read it.
And when you're done reading, please go to my profile, and vote on whether you'll keep reading, even if you don't review. It won't take long, honest. And I think this is a good idea, even if I'm still a bit fuzzy where it's going. This does not mean I've abandoned my previous AU... 'Worth of a Soul.' I just, want to do this. Honestly, what do you think? If no one likes it, it might just stay a one-shot...
Oh, and um... Welcome back to me, right?
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Lydia pursed her lips at the slinky red and black thing, going over in her mind for the dozenth time whether it was really appropriate for a date with royalty. Officially, no less. On the other hand, nothing she had planned for that night might really be considered 'appropriate…' Particularly when such a relationship was pretty much forbidden by the families on both sides. Actually, it wasn't so much that her parents disapproved, as that they didn't know…
She struggled out of her school uniform, which had stayed in place much longer than usual, due to last minute finishing touches on her dress, and slipped the silky thing over her head. It wasn't that it was indecent or anything, it was almost floor length, with wide waves and subtle folds all around her legs, but above that, it did fit her with very little reason to doubt that she was no longer twelve years old. Black knee high stockings, and black slip-ons, almost completed the ensemble… But then, there was the neitherworld's chill to worry about.
With a sigh, Lydia slid open the hidden drawer in her desk, and drew out the shapeless spider web poncho, a gift from Beetlejuice many years before. Having a dress like this, and wearing something like that over it, seemed almost criminal… But she pulled it over her head anyway, smoothing it down her front, where it still fell quite a bit past her knees, and regarded her reflection in the mirror with sort of a curious twist to her lips. She didn't look bad. She didn't look bad at all. Even if her hair, as always, was a mess… But Vincent had never complained before, had he?
She turned back to her wardrobe, looking for a pair of gloves she'd picked up in the neitherworld. They were far more suited for keeping her hands warm than anything she could find around here, but she still hated wearing them. It made her feel cut off from things, not being able to touch them with her own skin. Like it wasn't really her. So she stood there, dangling them from her fingertips, turning over the choice in her mind…
"Hey babes, let me tell you, I've had a hell of a day!" Lydia paused in surprise, and turned, almost blushing as she realized how close she'd been to the poltergeist popping in on her while she was changing. "This broad I'm seeing is wearing me the fuck-" He paused at the hint of red to her cheeks. "What the hell's wrong with you?" He smirked, waggling his eyebrows. "Having dirty thoughts about your prince not-so-charming?"
"He's very charming." Lydia denied, with just a bit of a frown. She was not about to admit that he'd almost caught her in her underwear… "I just don't expect you to know it. And I don't have a lot of time to talk right now, it's Friday night, and I have a date." She cast him a little bit of a smirk in return, adding, "You do know what a date is, right? Or is your method of choice always bag 'em, bed 'em, and run?"
Beetlejuice cackled softly. "You say that like it's a bad thing, babes!" He noted, every tooth showing in a grin. "You oughta try it sometime… Maybe get that prince to crack a smile! Course, might have to wait a few years for that, I 'spose…"
A few years? She was pretty sure she was already the age, or even past the age, when he'd tried to marry her mother… The guy didn't notice shit. But then, maybe if he paid attention to things like holidays and birthdays, he'd know that her birthday was in just two short weeks… And then she'd be sixteen. And despite what their parents may want to think of them, most sixteen year olds were pretty far beyond the handholding stage…
Just not her. But that, was about to be fixed. She was getting a kiss from Vincent tonight, come hell or high water… Though it wasn't something she particularly planned to discuss before Beetlejuice. Those two were so weird with each other, it was like they were related! "Look, just save your lurid tales for when I get home," She advised him with a little laugh, making him grin, "I'll have plenty of time to think you're a pervert then. Right now I have to get ready."
"Shit babes, you really ought to listen more closely when I tell you this shit… I'm trying to give you tips!" He dusted his knuckles off on his dirty lapels, trying to look disinterested, before he started picking his nails with his teeth. "Royal ain't gonna wait forever for you to start putting out… Not when he can have his pick of any chick in the- What the hell was that for!"
Lydia, having just chucked something heavy at his head, she didn't stop to see what, now glared at the poltergeist like he was making it his personal mission in life to piss her off. "That isn't funny!" She whispered, feeling a cold twist in her gut at the very idea. She and Vincent had been together as long as her and Beetlejuice… She couldn't stand the idea of him just not being around anymore.
Beetlejuice hefted the book, which it turned out it was, in his hand, gave a little, amused grunt, and turned glinting eyes on her. He was kidding of course. Mostly. God knew someone like him wouldn't be waiting around for her… But Vincent was different. Right? "Look at it this way, babes… You got one thing on all those other broads who'd jump at the chance to snatch him off… You're still breathing."
"Urg!" Lydia grabbed something else and threw it at him, this time very aware that it was her favorite spider lamp. Beetlejuice of course, merely twitched his fingers, and caught this in midair, not even looking annoyed. He'd hit something of a nerve though, suggesting that the best she had to offer him was being warm… Largely because he wasn't the first to have suggested it. She didn't know which was worse, her being called a grave robber, or Vincent being called a biophiliac!
Either way, between the rumors, and the near on four years without a single kiss from her steady boyfriend, her nerves were beginning to wear a little thin. "He is not dating me just because I have a pulse." She muttered, turning back to her wardrobe, to stare defiantly within. Of course, she was trying to convince herself as much as him…
"Didn't say he was, babes." Beetlejuice frowned, twisting his fingers, and sending both book and lamp to settle back on her desk. "Just saying it gives you an edge. There's nothing like a good warm lay, babes…"
This time, the sound she made wasn't really even comprehensible, but she settled for rolling her eyes, rather than throwing something at him that she might not get back. "You are such a rutting pig, Beej!" She hissed, secretly worrying all over again. Damn, why did he have to say things like that? He was getting more liberal in the things he said, it had to be admitted, whether he noticed she wasn't twelve anymore, or not. "Why do you have to put shit like that in my head, just before I go out?"
"Because I love fucking with you." He answered matter-of-factly, a slow grin cracking across his pale face. "Shit babes, you never used to be this easy! You getting soft on me, or something? Or maybe you're just getting soft on his royal lowness…"
Lydia's lips pressed into a thin line, as much as anything, so she wouldn't smile too. Now that he'd admitted to it of course, she wasn't nearly as annoyed with him… They did this kind of crap to each other all the time. "Why do you call him that?" She grumbled, a little amused, whether she wanted to be or not. "It's like you two have a personal grudge against each other, or something!"
"What makes you think we don't?" He demanded, matter-of-factly, his eyes suddenly just a trace darker. "You want a reason? Hell, how about this… He doesn't think I'm good enough for you, and I think you could do better drudging the gutters, than with him! At least you might find someone interesting…"
"So you're fighting over me." She noted dryly, finally putting the gloves back away. Better to go for the whole flesh on flesh thing, if being warm was one of her strengths… Mr. Perfectly Proper might not consider letting her seduce him, if she didn't have an edge. "How utterly chivalrous. Next you'll tell me you're only letting me date him, until I'm old enough to put out with you…"
"Gotta have something to do with your time." He smirked, lacing his hands behind his head, and crossing to her mattress, to fall with a solid 'whomp,' across it. "Don't forget whose ring you're wearing, babes…"
"My mom's?" She prompted, casting a glance at him from the corner of her eyes. "I remember, thanks." Beetlejuice just made a noncommittal sound, lidding his eyes, and gazing at the unfinished summoning she'd scrawled on her canopy, many years before. "Like you're interested in me either way from shit, anyways…"
"Heh. Who knows, you might grow up to be a real looker, like your moms." This of course, just served to annoy her more than a little, since she was at the height of her good looks, supposedly, and should be just at least as hot as her mother… Just not in Beetlejuice's eyes, apparently.
"You're an ass," She informed him bluntly, turning towards the mirror, "And I'm leaving. Have fun recounting your lurid feats to the wallpaper."
"Bye, babes… Have fun blowing the little prince's mind…" She wondered briefly what that was supposed to mean, then decided she was late already, and Beetlejuice and his cryptic comments could be figured out another time. He just grinned, watching her go…
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He wasn't the same boy who'd first asked her to dance all those years ago… Not physically. The prince of the neitherworld had grown, and grown well. Now appearing about twenty, even though he was just eighteen, he held a dignity and maturity that befitted his royal blood, but in addition to that… There was just something decidedly sexy about the way he looked. And she never would have thought that would be a word to describe him.
Vincent was a good deal taller than her now, still as skinny as ever, but in a way that made no mistake of his strength. She could feel it every time he laid his hand over hers, every time he gave her a gentle squeeze… The boy had power, power she normally only associated with martial artists or dancers. Yet, she could say he was kind of built like a dancer, just thinner.
The green cast of his flesh had lightened with time, now he appeared simply a bit off color, and very pale. The color of his eyes meanwhile, had deepened a great deal. If before his eyes could be called black, now they seemed like doorways to the dead. Which was, she supposed, fitting.
Still he had an odd delicateness to his features, as well as a bit of exaggeration, like a sketch intended to bring out someone's qualities, in a way slightly larger than life. Slender of limb and waist, with hair that had grown long in the years they'd been together, possibly because she told him how much she liked it that way. Now it fell over his eyes when they were together, and when he didn't need to wear it up for appearance… Enhancing his brooding stare, and the serious set to his strong jaw. And always, always, he watched her with fascination…
It was a bad night to be late, but technically, despite what she'd said to Beetlejuice, she wasn't. When it came to official stuff, she always made sure she had a little extra time… Vincent looked fantastic as always, pressed and proper in rich navy blue, with violet overtones. His hair slicked smooth, and pulled back in a ponytail. And the crown he loathed to wear on everyday sort of dates together, sat neatly atop his head, while he regarded the room about them with a dreary stare. He didn't want to be there, and made no pains to hide it.
Lydia pressed a little closer to him, so that her hip brushed his, or rather his leg, as he was so much taller, and he cast a tolerant look down at her, his fingers wrapping with a sort of forced patience around hers. "It's almost over," She whispered, standing on her tippy toes for a moment, while he bent down solicitously to hear her, "After this, we can go get fried dough and cherry syrup, and gorge ourselves on sticky buns."
His lips curved in a delicate smile, just at the corners, reserved for her alone. "I cannot thank you enough for bearing through this with me, my Lydia," He whispered back, his fingertips touching just the edges of her ebony silken strands, "My parents were determined to pair me off properly tonight… I'm certain that they didn't expect you to actually attend by my side."
"If they'd ever bothered to meet me, they might have realized how pig-headed I am." She informed him with a smirk, her gaze traveling across the ball room, to where the royal heads of family were concealed behind a red hazy veil, peeking out from time to time disapprovingly. She took secret delight in defying them, well aware that as long as she had their son's favor, they couldn't do a damn thing to her. "Of course, it's easier for me to stand up to your parents, than mine…" She added, just a trace more softly. "But don't tell anyone I said that."
"Agreed." He murmured, straightening again, and weaving his arm a little more tightly through hers, laying his hand possessively against her elbow.
Approaching them now were a rather large couple, with rolls of what she only chose to believe were fat protruding from under their chins, rolling from their necks and forearms, and weighting down their chests about equally. She couldn't honestly tell which was which until the man spoke, his voice deep and rolling. "Well, this is your living girl, is it, Prince Vince?" He noted, staring at her coldly through his heavy monocle. "Pretty enough, I suppose. Certainly an interesting diversion from your royal duties."
"Lydia Deetz." She greeted him through gritted teeth, eyes flashing as she jutted out her hand with a grin… One that looked like it might belong a bit more on Beetlejuice, than the goth girl he hung around with. The man, if he could be called that, looked distinctly uncomfortable, and stared at her hand like it might bite him. "Pleasure to meet you." She pressed on, just like he wasn't staring at her like something he didn't want to catch. Hell, nothing was quite as much fun as fucking with these snobs' heads…
"I believe you are to take her hand." Vincent suggested helpfully, just a trace of his own frustrated malice showing through, though he didn't deign to smile. Then again, maybe he was just taking offense at the way his cousin, related through some tangle-work of family branches, was currently considering his longtime girlfriend. He could get very defensive about such things, Lydia knew…
"Ah, yes, of course your highness…" The ghost took her hand, almost between his thumb and forefinger, and brought it to his lips, in the most cursory brush of dead and unpleasant lips she'd ever been forced to suffer through. Said ghost then excused himself rather quickly, looking a bit ill.
Lydia brushed the back of her hand off on her poncho, her grimace giving way to something of an amused smirk. "If we make everyone do that, we might get out of here quicker." She noted in a soft aside, making Vincent's eyes, at least briefly, gleam with the darkness they held. "For your sake, of course." A pause, then, "Also for these ghouls' sakes, if they try to snatch you from me."
What sounded distinctly like a chuckle fell from Vincent's lips, which made every head there spin to take in the sight of the smiling prince. A view no one there seemed to either be comfortable with, or know how to respond to… "As if such creatures have a chance beside you, my Lydia." He murmured, giving her arm a little squeeze.
"Neitherworld press! Neitherworld press! Coming through!" A display of popping flashes and hurried moves pressed through the crowd, only to reveal a slimy looking fellow with large, limpid eyes, and no teeth, smiling up at them. "A picture of you and the breather, Prince Vince?" The shutterbug pleaded, already popping away with his flash. "Tell me kid, every time I see you, you're wearing that same red thing… You from a down and out living family, or something? Man, if that wouldn't make headlines…!"
"That's quite enough!" Vincent snapped coldly, reaching out, and snagging the camera from said reporter. It slicked his hand with ooze, as he tossed it over his shoulder, glancing around them with a displeased look. "Who let the press in here? Get him out at once! And her name," He added to the creature, as he was dragged away, "Is Lydia. I suggest you remember it."
Lydia moved closer to the prince's side, practically draping him possessively for a moment, while he responded by pulling her hard against them, and defying anyone, with his endless eyes, to say a word about it. The perfect picture for the poor shutterbug, if he still had his camera… "These things turn you into a completely different person," She noted, more pleased than she cared to admit, "And in this kind of company, I've got to say, it suits you."
"I have very little patience for these events, my Lydia…" He murmured, only to now have his attention drawn by a slender fellow all decked in curling maroon vestments. "And what is it now, chancellor? More demands from my parents, who steadfastly refuse my own requests to show themselves before my escort?"
The man flinched, just a little, torn over whether to be more afraid of the king and queen, or their currently very irritated son. "It is a ball, your highness," He simpered, showing every tooth in a way that would have been far more appealing, had he actually had every tooth… "It is expected for you to dance with the eligible young ladies!"
"It is expected for the eligible young ladies to dance with equally eligible young men, I would assume." Vincent denied, suddenly calm, in a way that made said chancellor more than a little uneasy. "As I have clearly brought an escort, it seems that my dances for the evening are spoken for. I believe you are unattached yourself… By all means, dance with as many as you please. I wish you nothing but the best."
For all that he was wishing him nothing but the best, the same tone and mannerism could have easily been used to tell someone to very kindly go to hell. It made Lydia shiver, just a little, to hear that in the prince's voice… Not that he had ever spoken to her that way. But being groomed for the throne was changing him, it could not be denied… And often, as it conflicted with his desire to be with her, not necessarily changing him for the more tolerant.
And yet the moment they were alone, his entire personality would reverse, and he would become quiet, soft spoken, and after all this time with her, still shy. Slow little smiles, indecisive and brooding, watching her with the fascination of any staring at the sky, longing for the stars. It was really sweet… And more than a little frustrating in its own way. He was far more hands on with her now for example, where people could see him, than he ever was when it was just the two of them, alone…
I am going to get him to kiss me, she thought with a tacked-on look of patience, though in reality her thoughts had been screaming for release for the past hour and a half. I am going to get him to kiss me, and god-damn-it, that boy is going to be the one to kiss me, not the other way around!
"Dance with me?" Vincent suddenly pleaded, turning those eyes to her that she'd never seen cause to refuse. "Let me have something from this evening worthy of remembering…" Lydia grinned and nodded, making no pains to avoid his gaze, or bow and curtsy, as everyone else around him did. He just looked relieved, leading her out onto the dance floor…
Immediately the music changed, in mid song, to a rather dreary, wonderful sounding waltz, as he swept her into the moves she'd long since learned by heart. Still grinning, she met his eyes with a challenge, daring him to meet her gaze as an equal, before all these people who thought so poorly of them being together. Before all these people who would never meet his gaze, but look away. And of course, Vincent did, dark, somber, but somewhere in those depthless eyes, clearly pleased.
"I get to dance with you again when this is over." She whispered, just loud enough for her boyfriend to hear. "A slow dance, just you and me, any kind of music you want. No one to stare at us, me in your arms…" The softening in his eyes was as much as a promise, and she felt triumphant. The few times they'd slow danced, she'd always felt like he was just inches from kissing her…
And tonight, she wouldn't let those inches slip away. "I know this spot in the living world where we can be alone," She went on, even more softly, "In the trees not far from my parents' house." She made a gentle sound, adding, "It's not fair you only get to visit on Halloween, when I can visit the neitherworld whenever I want. I know no one will bother us there, but you can make it so just I can see you anyway, right?"
"Yes." He agreed softly, his thumb gently caressing the palm of her hand, surprising her as he brought her into a turn. "I think that would be a wonderful way to end the evening, my dear Lydia. Somewhere far away from all these prying eyes… Where I may have you to myself."
The prince's words, unbeknownst to him, made the little hairs on her arms prickle, and would have made her blush, if he hadn't offered such words many times before. He just meant for her company, and she knew it… He wouldn't try a damn thing, even though by this point, there was a lot she'd probably let him get away with.
"Your birthday," He prompted suddenly, his eyes changing a little in the flickering of torchlight, "It falls in less than two weeks, correct?" She nodded, wishing briefly that she could lean into his arms, then instead, focusing on the fact that he knew her birthday by heart, while others, such as certain best friends, had never even helped her celebrate it. "We shall have to make an occasion of it, then. Perhaps…"
And this was as far as he got, before his eyes narrowed, at the sight of someone approaching from where she couldn't see. "I suspect my parents have a new game…" He noted softly, something decidedly un-Vincent-like in his voice. "My Lydia, be certain, you have every right to refuse an interruption, though I may not."
Before she could really process this, a voice interrupted, as a tall, bronze skinned fellow slipped up beside them, clad in a rich orange and black suit, a smooth smile plastered on his face. "Prince Vince, if I may be so bold as to cut in?" He prompted, turning blazing red eyes, quite beautiful in their own way, to his dancing partner. "It certainly doesn't seem fair that you keep such a novel young woman to yourself."
Vincent, stiff as a board in her arms, slowly disentangled himself from her, and took a step back. "Only if the lady please." He allowed, sweeping his hand towards her, placing all the power to defy his parents, and their traditions, in her hands.
The other man smiled, and started towards her, even as she saw the chancellor moving in from behind with a blue skinned beauty… Lydia skirted his advances with ease, dropping her voice to a feign of shyness, and seeking Vincent's arm again, like she wanted to hide behind him. "I'm afraid I couldn't do that…" She demurred, acting the part of any shy noble as she avoided his gaze. "Prince Vincent is my escort, and I would find it unworthy to dance with another, after such gracious invitation from him."
She swore Vincent looked mildly amused, though she couldn't say how she could tell, since nothing in his face changed in the least. Still, he took her hand back over hers, drew her back to him, and noted as calmly as possible, "If this is the way it's done in the living world, we certainly don't wish to come across as disrespectful of her traditions." He said simply.
Then, without another word, he drew her back into a dance, the music shifting again to accommodate them, as he met her eyes with silent gratitude. She curled her mouth gently at him, as he whispered fervently, "Say you will dance with me the remainder of the evening… It will give me rest from this constant formality, and I will find a way to repay you."
"Hmm…" Lydia narrowed her eyes in mock-thoughtfulness. "I may find some way for you to do that…" She was only able to remain true to her role for about a breath though, before a soft giggle escaped her. "Vincent, if we get through the evening with nothing more excruciating than extended dancing, I call the night a win on our half."
Vincent nodded, sighing. His eyes glassed over a bit, as he gazed off at nothing at all, barely even aware of her, in his arms… While Lydia bided her time, well aware that soon, he'd have no interest in anything else. This was just part of dating royalty… And for Vincent, it was worth it.
But thank god they didn't have to do this every Friday…
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"Okay," Lydia groaned, more or less plopping beneath the low hung maple, a tired grin on her face, "Maybe no more dancing." She patted the spot beside her, and Vincent came over without hesitation, settling his fine expensive clothing on the dirty forest floor. She couldn't tell if he was disappointed… Hell, half the time she couldn't tell what he was feeling.
For now she slid her shoes off, rubbing her toes, and leaning into his shoulder a little. He went stiff at first, of course, as he always did when she tried to get close to him, then relaxed slowly, and even put his arm around her. It didn't take him as long as it once had. "I am sorry, Lydia," He murmured, playing his fingers absently through her loose hair, the most he usually allowed himself, "I had not thought the extended dancing would cause you pain. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
Lydia lifted her head a little, considering him with a thoughtful look. He seemed so much more pensive now, not quite looking at her as he pulled the leather tie from his hair, letting it fall in careless black cascades over his face. Sort of a veil, to shield himself from the world… She laughed lightly, drawing up on her knees, and ran her fingers through it, intending to thoroughly muss it up. That meant he was hers after all… Just hers.
He looked up at her with glinting eyes, so deep and filled with serious emotion, but didn't protest her familiarity, even if the solemn set to his mouth didn't change. And despite all this, in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on, he seemed happy… Maybe it was just the way he held himself, like he didn't have the weight of the whole neitherworld on his shoulders. At least for a while.
"That's better!" She noted smugly, dropping back down, and placing her head securely in the curve of his shoulder. Her hand fell over his, warm, she thought to herself, and gave it a little squeeze. "You didn't even get a good look at my dress, you know." She mused, her voice muffled by the material of his sleeve, which her lips were currently pressed against. "I've always got to wear this damn poncho, or I'll end up freezing my ass off."
"I'm certain it was beautiful." Vincent assured her, slowly, slowly, relaxing against her. "But then, you always are." A pause, then softly, "Lydia, I cannot thank you enough for standing beside me tonight. It would have been, very difficult, without you. I know that you never agreed to this sort of-"
"Don't say it." She denied quietly, making him fall silent. "I've had a pretty good idea what I was getting into, for a while now. It's part of dating royalty, you know?" Her turn to pause, before she added, with a soft sound of contentment, "It's not so bad."
It was about at this point that she realized that Vincent was gazing down at her, a pained expression in his eyes. She frowned, waiting for him to say whatever he was going to say. "I must admit, my Lydia… You are such a free spirit, and I have lived with the fear for some time now, that you will tire of the trappings that go with be courted by royalty. That one day you will simply look at me angrily, and tell me- To leave you alone."
"Hmm." Lydia's heart lurched, because a few days prior, she'd been thinking of doing just this. Only not angrily of course, guiltily. Wondering if what she had with the prince was worth fighting for. Wondering if he'd ever be bold enough to cross the distance between them… Or if there might be someone out there more suited for her. They were just so different…
But they had so many memories together, and whenever she reflected on them, almost every memory was a good one. She'd gotten used to his quiet manner, his thoughtful deliberation, and the way he looked at her like she was the only one in the world, when they were together. She remembered her mother saying something like that once, about her father… Telling her that if she ever found it, to never let it go. And for once, her mother's advice had swayed her decision.
"Vincent?" She murmured, a trace of hesitation to her own words, which galled her more than a little, "You like me, right?" Vincent only answer, at least for the moment, was a rather shocked expression, as if uncertain how she could ever question that. But she met those eyes of his, all brooding and puzzled, with a frown, and pressed back from him a little. "Not just because I'm alive, right?"
His face clouded, and his eyes grew heavy, as he considered her with a less than pleased expression. "Such words reach even you, my Lydia?" He asked softly. "Do you doubt me so?"
A chord of annoyance struck her. "Hey, if you're gonna talk about doubting, don't forget what you just said about worrying I'll get tired of you. It's pretty much the same thing, you know?" Slowly his gaze cleared, and he nodded, even looking a trace guilty. "I mean, I've tried to ignore it for a long time," Her tone was maybe just a little gentler now, "But people keep saying it… So," She met his gaze again, "You like me, right?"
For a long moment, he just considered her, as serious as she'd ever seen the moody prince. Then softly, sliding his fingertips along the curve of her throat, in a daring way for him, he murmured something far more so. "Lydia… I love you."
His words made sparks of surprise and electricity tingle along the skin under her poncho, and she just stared at him for a minute, wondering in a momentary panic if she was supposed to say it back. She didn't know if she could… She loved being with him, she loved his eyes, and the way he rarely smiled for any but her… She loved just about every minute they spent together! But did she love him?
At her extended silence, he seemed to accept that she didn't know how to answer, and sighed, drawing his hand back away. "But of course, I expect no such words from you, my Lydia. Not so quickly. But I have known myself… for a very long time."
She turned this over in her mind, shaking her head, which stubbornly refused to make her confusion any clearer. She hadn't been expecting that… She should have been, but she wasn't. It should have been obvious for a long time that he loved her… Maybe she just didn't want to notice. Because she wasn't ready to say it back.
But if there was one thing Lydia hated, it was being all indecisive, and soft footing around an issue. Better to avoid it altogether. She squirmed from his grasp suddenly, pushing herself to her feet, and looked down at the heir-prince with a decided challenge to her gaze. "Forget sore feet," She informed him matter-of-factly, "You owe me a dance." Since she hadn't quite relinquished his arm as she stood, pulling him up with her was no difficult task…
He offered no objection, even if he paused in puzzlement for a moment as she drew away again, struggling with the heavy poncho, before throwing it aside. She was amused by the faint trace of a blush that appeared on his sharp cheekbones, like he'd just expected her to continue stripping… Or maybe just in response to the full-on view of the dress she'd been wearing all night, which was surely not typical for a formal ball.
Sleeveless, strapless, form-fitting, and low cut, she gave an elegant sweep of her arm, grabbing up a handful of cloth from the sweeping skirt, and gave the most elegant bow she knew how to, grinning at him all the while almost savagely. "Like what you see, Prince?" She challenged him, while he just stared at her with wide eyes, his jaw slightly slack, and didn't even correct her over using the formal title. "Come on, dance with me."
"But," He still seemed unlikely to emerge from his eye-bulging trance, as his mouth formed words regardless, "There is no music, Miss Lydia. What shall we dance to?"
"I don't know, and I don't care." She moved towards him, making the bashful prince take a step back, blushing still more. A flare of panic gripped her heart… What if this was too much for him? What if she just ended up pushing him away? "Vincent," Her voice dropped to just above a whisper, no more game to her words, "Are you afraid of me?"
The prince swallowed, heavily, then with a whisper himself, confessed softly, "Yes, my Lydia. I don't know how I could be approached by someone so beautiful, so unafraid herself, and not find myself afraid of her. Lydia… You must know that I've never, seen a woman, quite so undaunted to reveal herself to me?"
Lydia took a deep breath, cast a glance towards her poncho, then looked at him again. "Do you want me to put it back on?" She murmured, trying not to reveal her disappointment. This wasn't the way he was supposed to react at all… But she supposed she couldn't expect him to just fly out of his usual reserve just for the sake of a little flesh. Vincent was no Beetlejuice, after all… If he was, this little showdown would have never become an issue.
When he didn't answer, she shook her head, and started to reclaim the heavy bit of cloth, intending to cover herself once more. She almost jumped out of her skin when Vincent caught her from behind, sliding his arm smoothly about her waist, and whispering, less than an inch from her ear… "Not yet. Please."
It was, without a doubt, the boldest he'd ever been with her, and she found her heart racing a mile a minute, rushing blood to her cheeks, as she was the one to freeze at his touch now, completely caught off guard. "Okay," She murmured, not sure what else to say, "Wasn't expecting that…"
And that was of course, by whatever laws of the universe that decided such things, exactly the wrong thing to say, and Vincent's arm drew back again, hastily. "I- I apologize, Miss Lydia, I never should have…"
Damn custom. Damn letting the boy make the first move. What he'd just done was close enough. She turned into his embrace before he could pull completely away, meeting his eyes, her own dark and pleading enough to make him stop in mid retreat. "Vincent, I've waited long enough. If you don't kiss me right now, I'm never going to forgive you." It was maybe a dumb thing to say. But at the moment, it felt unbearably true.
The prince stared at her, dumbfounded. "But, it isn't proper, without- That is, we shouldn't…" Still she wouldn't let him look away, sliding her own arms up and around his back now, rising to her tippy toes, lips curved in a small, gently tender smile. "Lydia…" He pleaded at last, "I have no wish to take advantage of your trust in me…"
"I've waited for you to kiss me since I was twelve years old," She informed him softly, but with a voice like steel, "You are not taking advantage of my trust. Now please Vincent… You're not going to make me ask again, are you?"
Something in those deep dark eyes, shattered, and gave way, to a look softer than anything she'd seen there before. "No," He agreed softly, as if he were shamed she even had to say this, "I won't make you ask again."
This said though, neither of them really seemed certain how to proceed. At last Vincent slid his hand behind her neck, hesitantly, and with the tip of his thumb against her chin, leaned in to kiss her. Lydia, aware that people usually tipped their heads when they kissed, did just this, and closed her eyes, waiting for the brush of his lips against her own.
It was feather-soft, tentative, his first caress against her mouth, but it was… electric. Sparks could have spun from her fingertips… It took her breath away. Just a moment, so briefly, he kissed her, then drew back away, as if this was simply all he dared. She opened her eyes slowly, considering him. She thought the boy prince had never looked so flustered, in the entire time she'd known him. His face unnaturally pale, his lips quivering… Another man might have been breathing hard. Vincent on the other hand, wasn't breathing at all.
Before she could feel awkward, and wonder if she'd done something wrong, he closed the distance between them again, grasping her by both arms this time, in firm hands, as his mouth sought hers. Made brave, by the brief kiss, and whatever he'd felt from it. Firm lips against hers now, sweetly demanding as they moved against her, while his embrace drew her back into him, and somewhere she wasn't quite sure of, she swore she saw little flares of white light go off behind her eyes.
He was strong, she realized suddenly, not just his body, but his magic. Strong enough for it to flow through her unchecked at the bold kiss, making her skin dance, and her hair stand on end. Her eyes grew wide at first, then fluttered closed, as he kissed her again, again, never daring so far as to claim the inside of her mouth. Rather, just seeking the warmth of her lips again, again, again…
Her breath hissed out between her lips, as he finally drew away a little, looking shaken, as if he didn't quite know himself what he'd just done. His face, which had been paler than usual only a moment before, suddenly grew a deeper shade of green instead, a blush, as he saw Lydia staring at him, dumbfounded by the force of his kiss. "M- Miss Lydia, I a- apologize… I'm not certain…"
"Wow." She interrupted softly, rocking back on her heels a little, to take in him more fully. "I never would have guessed you had that kind of power. It was… strange." His face plummeted, and he looked crushed. Belatedly, Lydia realized what that must have sounded like, and tried to think of something else to say. At the moment though, all she could think of was one thing… "Um, can we do that again?"
"Wh- what?" He responded intelligently, only for her to claim the distance between them this time, hooking her hand around his shoulder, to pull him down to an appropriate level to claim his mouth. He was tense against her for only an instant before he surrendered to her will, and his hands sought her back… But she wanted something different this time, and gently her mouth opened, to flick just the tip of her tongue against his top lip.
Clearly he wasn't sure how to respond, so she let him take his time… She was content with this, the way his energy made her blood sing, and every fiber of her body dance with tingling energy… She just wanted to be, closer.
He gradually seemed to get the idea, seeking the warmth of her mouth tenderly, while his fingers traced patterns of longing across the bare flesh of her arms. She found herself smiling, even giggling, as he seemed to find his 'rhythm,' and kiss her with an instinctive expertise, which quickly took her breath away, from surprise as well as laughter.
"Damn!" She snickered at last, breaking the kiss. For once, he didn't look hesitant or troubled, he seemed to know she was pleased, as her dancing eyes met his. "So much for that excuse!"
"What excuse, my Lydia?" He asked softly, something in his tone just a trace more possessive than it had been before. As if now, she was his, and there could simply be no more question… "What excuse could either of us need?"
Lydia smirked at him, reaching up to tousle his hair, before drawing away, and stretching languidly, his energy still racing through her blood. "I figured maybe the reason you never kissed me, was because you weren't any good at it." She teased, far more back in her element, with this hurdle finally crossed. "Turns out, you just like making me wait!"
He fell silent for a moment, looking thoughtful, serious. "I am sorry, my Lydia… I am not accustomed, even after all this time, to being allowed such boldness in courting. I am, grateful, you are far bolder than myself, or I don't know what I'd do." He reached out to her then, tracing a line lightly along the top of her head, until he parted the hair over her eye with one finger, all ever so delicately. "I am sorry I made you wait… But what you said about my power," His brow tucked just a little, in concern, "I did not hurt you?"
"No way." She denied quietly, already looking at his slender mouth again, which at her words, and lingering interest, softened just a little, in an 'almost-smile.' "But I guess you probably didn't mean for me to feel it like that either. Heh, look at it this way. Not everyone actually sees fireworks, the first time they kiss."
"Hmm." He still seemed thoughtful, not quite brooding, but as if something concerned him. "That was my first kiss, Lydia."
"Mine too." She answered easily, turning with a little sweep of her skirts, and leaning back into his arms, before he could protest. As usual, it seemed to catch him off guard, but this time, it didn't take as long as it usually did, for him to embrace the idea… and her. "Not bad for a first try."
A pause, then quietly, "My Lydia… Am I allowed to kiss you again? Beyond this night?"
She turned this thought over in her mind, giving it the serious consideration he seemed to think it deserved, but all the while, it was all she could do not to laugh. "Anytime you like." She murmured at last, tipping her head up enough to meet his gaze, "And it doesn't even have to be on the lips. You can kiss me on the neck too, if I can do the same."
"A- agreed." This said, he dropped a very light kiss to her throat, and then, gently, sighed against the soft skin there. "Lydia… Thank you."
They stood this way for a long moment, him soaking in her heat, reveling in her softness, her soaking in his delicious chill, and the waves of energy that still seemed to roll off him so enticingly. But she knew it couldn't last forever, and at last, quietly, said the words she really didn't want to say. "I have to go home, Vincent. Before I get in trouble."
"Or you won't be allowed to see me again." He finished quietly, only reluctantly surrendering his hold on her. "I understand… But please understand my position, dear Lydia." His voice dropped, just a little, becoming almost like a caress. "That I look forward to the night you will come back with me, to a castle we may call our own, and I will not have to let you go again."
It was of course, right up there with all the other little declarations of love he'd made across the years, from very nearly the first time they'd met. He never changed his song, it was true… But it was one which, for the first time, she found herself entertaining as well, rather than simply humoring. Be a princess, an actual princess, in an actual castle, in the world of the dead? It was so unreal… But Vincent, his light grasp still lingering on her wrist, was very real…
"Vincent… Goodnight." There was so much more to say, but anything she said now, she couldn't take back. Therefore, she couldn't say it. Not yet. She didn't even kiss him again, simply drawing away from his grasp, and heading back through the narrow strip of trees that stood between her and home, poncho and shoes in one hand. But what she really wanted to ask him of course, rang in her head silently, regardless.
Until I'm ready to say it too… Vincent, how long will you wait for me?
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