I hope you guys enjoy this. I worked on it for about three days. I was inspired by a scene in Dirge of Cerberus, right before Vincent had to tranquilize Shelke.
Shelke Rui stared at the ceiling of her humble abode. It had been hours since she'd gotten any rest. It wasn't that anything was wrong, but rather, the opposite. Since she and her sister, Shalua, had been reunited, life was like a little piece of heaven, marred only by the fact that she had no idea how to handle it, that, and the prospect of forbidden love and its episodic tortures. She couldn't help but feel that she was living a life straight out of a Romeo and Juliet remix. Everything was so new, so different, no great pains, no endless hardship, nothing she was used to.
Since Omega and the world of Deep Ground had been tucked away, Shelke rarely saw anyone besides her sister, and rarely Vincent. Most other people were complete strangers to her, and of course, the remaining people who weren't were most likely dead. It didn't matter to her though; the Tsviets weren't her idea of friend material anyway. The only two she'd formed any attachment to were Azul, and strangely, Rosso.
Azul had been the only person to stand up for her in Deep Ground and it meant a lot to Shelke, even if she knew that it was most likely only because of her abilities. Other than that, he was a teammate, one she could depend on - and who doesn't get attached to their teammates anyway? With Rosso, the explanation wasn't so simple. She seldom ever worked with her on missions, or even talked to her, but the attraction was there. She couldn't figure out why, but every second with Rosso, was a second that her heart was deciding between pounding out of her chest and leaping from her throat. 'Why wasn't it the same with Azul?' she wondered, pondering her vast, fond memories of the Russian.
Of course, she and the fiery woman had never been intimate, but during the occasional spar, some of their methods were – more than questionable. Their weapons would clash, Shelke's red sabres against the cold steel of Rosso's weapon, both sparking on contact, the dim auras of mako being the only lights in the training ground.
Shelke was no competition for Rosso, not in the least; she was more of a toy – a play thing for Rosso to beat up and put away. The two would battle back and forth, trading blows equally, neither side seeming the closest to winning for hours, even days, but at the last, when Shelke's speedy resistance faded to desperate rushes and panting retreats, the crimson haired vixen would oust her quarry, sending her frail body across the dim arena. Then came the taunting. Rosso would saunter over to her prey, maniacal laughter spilling out over the room, caressing the battered eardrums of her target.
She would scoop up the poor girl with one arm and press her to the damp concrete with another, sliding one of those long creamy legs in between her thighs, the glinting blade of her weapon threatening to end Shelke's near-nonexistent struggle. "You know, if you weren't a child, I wouldn't mind having some fun with you," she would often say, half-seriously, "Better luck next time," leaving trails of nail-marks down her skin, making the girl all the more eager for the next round. Images of the fiery eccentric plagued her thoughts. Blood rushed to her head. Shelke blushed.
Something about that woman was distinctly different. The fact that she could still possibly be alive only served to reawaken these realizations within Shelke, though, realizations couldn't change the way she was feeling about a certain someone on her mind – and it wasn't Vincent, for once. Even her connection to Lucrecia couldn't silence the waves of conflicting emotions she was feeling.
Being stuck in the body of a nine-year old not only meant that her physical form was underdeveloped, but her mental structure as well. Her sister was outside their home, tending to the garden. Shelke tilted her head in the direction of the window, glancing to take a look at Shalua's tireless planting and weeding. She sighed, trying to quell the thoughts plaguing her mind with every second that passed. If only Shalua knew what was going on in her little sister's head.
Shelke shook her head, returning her focus to the ceiling once more, occasionally averting her gaze in the direction of her phone, anxiously hoping that someone would call her, begging for something that would let her forget her problems, even if it were only for an instant.
She looked outside out of pure anxiety and sighed once more. It had started to sprinkle, and yet, her sister insisted on working through it, despite her arm, which wasn't rust-proof in the least. The more she thought on it, the more she saw just how determined Shalua was. She nearly sacrificed her life for her. In fact, Shalua had just recently come out of a coma, which was regrettably the result of Azul's doing. So many complications, Shelke thought to herself, again reclining into the sofa.
Everything she remembered was all flooding back to her at once, and it wasn't exactly the most pleasurable feeling in the world. All she wanted was peace, the last shreds of which were torn to pieces when the screen door slammed shut, the wooden door following suit. Shelke continued to stare at the ceiling, hearing her sister rustling around in the room. The sound came to a stop and restarted again after a few seconds, heading in her direction, coming and settling on the couch with her. Shelke's heart pumped furiously.
"What's wrong?" her sister asked, blinking. Shelke didn't dare to look, instead opting to sigh in response. "Really, Shelke, what's wrong? I didn't search for you all these years to find a sad lump on a log that won't even speak to me."
Shelke took a deep breath and let it out. "You – you wouldn't understand. This is – It's more complicated than anything you could imagine."
"Vincent?"
Shelke said nothing.
Her sister sighed. "Shelke, you have to realize, Vincent is a unique person. He needs . . more space than most people and-"
Shelke interrupted, "Shalua, it's not Vincent."
"Oh." Shalua's head dropped slightly.
"It's just that I don't know how to feel about any of this," Shelke said, "When they took me away, I didn't get a chance to understand how life, love, or any of these new things work. It's like I never existed until now, like I've just been born again and started a new life in a place where I don't know anything or anyone. I'm eighteen now, and I don't know where to begin."
A tear slipped from Shalua's eye and she wiped it away, nodding. "It's all my fault. I could've stopped them from taking-"
"No, don't blame yourself. There's no point. It's over. We can move on with our lives. It's . . okay now." Shelke said, "We tried, and now there's nothing else we can do. Weiss is gone; everyone else is dead."
"No, it's not okay. I thought I lost you forever," Shalua said, collapsing onto her sister in a heap. "You're my only sister."
Shelke didn't know what to do. She'd never comforted anyone with anything, with the exception of ending suffering. All she could do was stroke her hair and watch as the butterflies tried to burst through her chest. Intimate moments weren't her specialty, to say the least.
After a few minutes, Shalua managed to pull herself together. She sniffed and wiped away the tears, scooting as close to her sister as humanly possible, all the while, thoughts running through her head, the same ones she'd been pushing away since childhood. She looked to Shelke almost mournfully, slipping an arm around her fragile body, despite the war inside her head.
It seemed like an eternity of silence, the only sound being slow, inconstant breathing. Finally, Shelke broke the ice. "I want to say something," she began; Shalua's heart raced.
"I don't know how to say it, but . . . What do you say to someone when you want to be with them forever and ever, no matter what happens, or what anyone says or does? . . and if you'd kill just to be with them, even if it's only a few seconds longer?"
Her eyes went wide as she examined the question, heart pounding harder and harder as she stumbled over words. "I – It's love, Shelke," Shalua said, blurting out, "Wh- Who do you love?"
Shelke's face went beet red for a moment and she drew in a breath, bringing a finger to her chin. "It's complicated," she finally decided. "but I know one thing . . close your eye."
Shalua obeyed, the thudding in her chest growing even more evident than before, as her body began subtly jerking with each pulse. She had an idea of what was about to happen, but was surprised that she wasn't the initiator. Shelke turned to her and started to lean in, the fabric of her shirt brushing against Shalua's arm lightly as she drew in closer.
Shalua felt the gentle touch of her sister's slightly parted lips on her own, the feathery contact sending shivers down her spine as Shelke cupped her cheeks like she had seen people do in the movies. It lasted for a few seconds before the shorter girl pulled away, blushing hotly and letting her hands return to her sides.
"Why did you do that?" Shalua asked quietly, tilting her head slightly.
Shelke shrugged, answering, "We both wanted it. I'm a mind reader, remember?" She leaned forward again, testing the waters once more. Shalua looked down and back again, gulping and closing her eye, waiting for Shelke to close the distance, which she did, eagerly so. All the while, both of them couldn't stop thinking about how anyone could believe that something so pleasurable could be wrong. After all, love and romance never hurt anyone in the end; this wasn't Romeo and Juliet, it was incest ever after.
A/N: My class was reading Romeo and Juliet, so I thought I'd add in a reference or two for tragic-ness and reality. I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out; sweet and a little romantic/emo, without being too smutty or anything. It's not really my style, but I think this is my best piece. I may do another shot if people like it a lot, with some flashbacks, if anyone's interested in more Rosso/Shelke or anything . . . Anyway, tell me what you think!