This is my first official fanfic! So I really welcome flames and comments. Would appreciate some feedback regarding how to best write fiction. Yep. Thank youu... )

The Mage's POV

...

Because everytime I look at him, I see a frightful sight. I see someone who just cannot fall for my mask, and who will earnestly and ruthlessly break it. And I can't let that happen, no I cannot possibly.. Why? Why doesn't he.. Why can't he be like the others and just believe in this already??... And as our days go by, he sees me, more of me, more and more... So much so that I'm afraid that it's impossible for me to lie to him anymore... He knows.. So much.. But he shouldn't...

Oh Gods, I don't deserve such a.. I don't deserve any of this... It is torture to even continue with them but... I... Don't know.. When has my mind changed? When have I changed?? I only wanted a bit of peace, but he just won't let me. I.. I really.. I...

Normal POV

And in the twilight night, amidst the washed moonlight, a muffled cry permeated the air.. A young, lithe blond crouched huddled by the windowsill. His soft expression staring unfocused out into the night. Bringing his legs closer to himself, he shuddered and let go of his constant mask, shedding it just for the night.

Deep footsteps awoke his morose slumber as he sat just a bit more rigid, determinedly staring out into the night.

The other man , who travels with the two, steps into the room and acknowledges the still awake mage with a slight nod. And that was that. For really, there was no need to be welcomed back by him and the other was not expected to do so.

The dark swordsman laid aside his weapon and slumped onto the floor. Their princess dreaming slightly in the only bed in the room, while her protector, exhausted by the day's activities, slept lightly on the couch beside her.

With a resigned sigh, the swordsman frowned and got back up, walking slowly towards the windowsill where the mage was. The blonde became very aware of this and sat even more upright, if it were possible, determined to avoid a confrontation. Unconsciously, he has already placed his mask back up.

Turning around to greet the swordsman with another of his plastic smiles, he was caught off guard by the sudden movement that led to his thin self being lifted upwards and dragged out the door. A quiet yet futile struggle ensued as the blonde responded partly in shock and partly in outrage at the swordsman's move. But both knew, as shown in their eyes, that his quiet scuffling was futile.

So off they went one rather in protest to the outside of the rented room where their charges would not be disturbed.

The blonde was let down and pounded the swordsman's being, willing his soft attacks to provoke some form of reaction while angry tears stung his sapphire eyes.

The swordsman took them all in, and moved in to wrap his arms to support the magician when he became too exhausted even to stand.

The quiet sobbing sifted through the night air and still the swordsman stayed by the magician's side. The day's activities had taken a toll on all of them after all, with the magician being most affected.

Callused fingers threaded through soft locks as sapphire eyes snapped up in shock.

"Why?" he hushed, his voice weak from sobbing. "Why would you..." Behind the tear-laden orbs laid a new emotion--A repressed, fearful hope.

The swordsman replied with a soft glare, pressing the lithe form before him closer against the corridor wall.

The glare was still on him as he leaned forward and pressed his lips on the others'. The pressure was soft, yet grew increasingly deeper as the blonde widened his mouth, entirely out of shock of course.

The breathtaking moments laid suspended in the air, before the warrior moved back ever so slightly and looked into the stunned orbs.

"Idiot. I'm not going to say it another time. Your past means nothing to me, nor does it mean anything to the kids. Live in the present idiot, and don't you dare give up just yet." His voice trailed off and he turned back to the bedroom.

Intense eyes watched the retreating figure, before shaking slowly out of their shock. A little life went back into those orbs as lips parted in a hushed call...

"Kuro..gane?"

Now it was the swordsman's turn to be surprised at the absence of the bastardization of his true name.

And as he spun around to face the fragile mage fully, his eyes traced the hesitant footsteps of the other, first wary, then later desperate. He felt the thin arms clutch the shirt he opted to wear for the night, and soft locks pressed onto his chest.

The mage buried his head into the shirt and its owner's scent.. fumbling with muffled words..

"I.. I..."

Understanding dawned onto the swordsman named Kurogane as he wrapped his arms around the shivering figure, while stretching a little to pat the younger man's head.

A small smile graced his usually stagnant facial expression as he hushed the magician and pulled him even closer.

And that was all the answer Fai needed as he fell into an easy slumber.

The princess and her protector woke in astonishment at the sight before them in their corridors. Their guardians had fallen asleep and had spent the night on the carpeted floor, wrapped within each other's arms.

So peaceful and moving were each of the expressions on their faces, that the two charges could not help but smile themselves and quietly made their way for breakfast, being careful not to wake them.

And the black and white clothed figures continued to lay still, their contrast drawing attention to their steady breathing, which seems almost synchronized. Together, they paint a breathtakingly beautiful sleepy morning, with the soft sunlit rays blessing the two as the one named Fai burrowed his face into the crook of Kurogane's neck, his mouth breathing warm air and tickling the warrior. And Kurogane on the other hand, tightened his protective hold of the mage, his posture declaring resolve in every form to never relinquish it, no matter what may come now.