Sweet-Tooth Week Day 1: First Meeting
Title: Of Swords and Stiches
Characters: Bunnymund, Toothiana, Baby Tooth
Shipping: Sweet-Tooth, M/F, Bunnymund/Toothiana
Rating: T for blood, violence, and mild language
Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship
Summary: Bunnymund tends to a wounded Tooth Fairy helper and deals with her infuriated mother over a huge misunderstanding that leads to the most excitement he's had in a while and a possible friendship . . . or is this the beginning of something more.
A/N: I do not own Rise of the Guardians, they belong to DreamWorks. I don't care that it is late, I'm not waiting for next year.
3:02 a.m. – Saturday
Southeast Asia Jungle - Punjam Hy Loo, Birth Place of the Sisters of Flight
It starts with the thunderous roar of a gunshot ringing throughout the obscure night, shaking dark tree tops as sleeping birds take flight out of sheer self-preservation and fear and shrink into the moonlit horizon. The distinctive scent of gun powder and smoke mix together like old friends and follow swiftly after the sound as if the two are in cable of being separate for long.
She remembers that smell, so vividly she can taste the metal the gun is made of. Metallic and unnatural.
She remembers the burning in her nose and the reluctant build of water in her eyes, the cotton like feeling in her throat as it tightened closed as thick smoke forced its way down her windpipe.
The heat of the flames that surrounded her and consumed the barn burns itself into her skin and scorches the edges of her feathers, those bright warm colors that nearly blinded her and the intense heat that licked at her body is nearly too much to take in at once.
She's never seen a gun before, never heard one before last night either and luckily has never felt its bullets.
But, nonetheless, even hours after the horrid experience has ended she still remembers everything that happened that night, she can't forget and she never will. Her memories play in front of her glazed, wide eyes as if in slow motion. The colors are softer because of the fire and the screaming is far less intense inside her head, but none the less more frightening compared to the reality.
Perhaps this is her mind's way of coping; dulling the senses.
4hours earlier . . .
Her memories flooded her vision with pastel colors blending in together as if there were no boundary to separate them, every color, dark and light bled into their surroundings like a bad, wet painting. It reminded her of a moving Edvard Munch painting. How the colors ran and bend into each other like rivers and streams. Edvard Munch is most famous for his painting "the Scream" and ironically that's exactly how she felt, she wanted scream into the night as the green of the grass bled into the dark blue sky. She wanted to clamp her hands down over her ears to block out the gun shot and scream for good measure . . . but this wasn't about her. And the questions that ran through her mind didn't matter either, what matter was his life. Whatever he is.
"Shoot! Shoot! Shoot, damn you!"
There's flash of gray, subtle and impossibly quick movement that ducks behind a wooden crate.
"Damnit woman, will you shut up!?"
It happens so quickly she nearly misses her window of opportunity, she nearly witnesses something that would have imprinted itself into her memories like a brand, but she moves with in a half a second before the gun goes off and knocks it off aim just enough for it to miss whatever is lurking in the shadows.
But before she can fully enjoy her victory the bullet bounces off two metal contraptions before hitting a lit oil lantern, knocking it onto the hay ridden floor and within a blink of an eye the barn is in flames. A dark cloud like despair quickly swirls overhead, making the air heavy and coating the walls in thick soot.
Smoke gathers in her lungs before she has a chance to hold her breath and she thinks in the mist of panic she must have hit her head on something because the last thing she sees before the shadows takeover is a tall figure with two long ears on top of his head looming over her.
There's a pain in her back.
She fears the worst when she loses feelings in her wings.
"Can you hear me, Shelia?"
His voice acts like a life line much like it did when she was in his infirmary –
His ragged breathing makes his hands involuntary shake, sweat collects his fur in damp clumps around his face in spite of the fan above his head turning feverishly. "You're gonna be alright, okay?" His thumb rubs the side of the fairy's head, causing it to roll to the side and pull a groan from her so quiet his large ears almost missed it. "I promise."
– hooking her from its first syllable and drawing her out of the murky corners of her subconscious and back into reality where she can breathe again. Upon entering the real world again she feels the reality of pain, she winces and turns her head to gently burry it in his neck fur. It feels like every nerve in her body is acting on hyper-drive, every cell that creates her very being is one fire and here she is without a glass of water. She notices with a pinged of fear in her heart that the space between her shoulder blades feels void, like something is missing – something important. Vital.
"I'm so sorry, Shelia." The sigh that pulls from his throat nearly kills her right then and there. He rubs the back of his neck and locks eyes with the sterile tile floor before responding, "Your wings are scorched."
The faint beeping in the background signifies her heart rate on the monitor, it increases its speed at the news at a disturbing rate. Her bandaged hands ring together in worry as her mouth goes dry.
"But you'll fly again, given time."
"Hey." His soft greeting falls on deft ears, she's crying again like before. Not loudly in pained wails, but something much worst. It's often said someone's silent speaks volumes, and her quite tears and mute hiccups makes his ear drop to the base of his skull.
As if on instinct he scoops the small fairy up off his shoulder and gently cradles her to his chest, shushing her as he continued his way deeper into the jungle, a misty fog rolls in on early winds and steadily began to climb up to his waist.
"I know it hurts, I know," he whispers as she clings to his fur. "But we're going to get ya home ta ya family. And then we're goin' give 'em this," he swings a brown leather satchel from off his shoulder and holds it proudly in front of glistening eyes. Before they left his home, the Warren he called it, he'd packed a bag filled with medical supplies and instructions for her so her wings will heal properly. "Kay?"
She gives him a doubtful look before nodding her understanding. It became apparent that there is a language barrier between the two. She understands his language and many others, but cannot speak it since everything she says sounds like bird chirps. Only her mother can understand her, the Queen of the fairies, Toothiana.
He nods. "Good."
He followed her instructions and headed deeper into the forest, pushing tree vines out his way and carefully avoiding poisonous plants around his ankles. The fog was clouding his vison to the point where he had to squint and hold a paw over his brow as if that would help when suddenly, he tripped over a curling tree root covered in moss and went tumbling down the steep hill with a shout, instinctively he grabbed ahold of the little fairy and held her close to his chest. He grunted and hiss with each impact.
A painful grunt was pulled from the back of his throat as he finally came to a halt at the bottom of hill, he quickly rolled onto his back and rubbed at his head, groaning. He was definitely going to have a headache in the morning.
The tiny fairy that had escaped his hand once landing ran to his aid, placing her tiny hands on his cheek and making, and failing, to squeak out a chirp. Curtesy of the bandages around her neck and sore throat.
The bunny waved her off as he got to his feet again, "I'm fine, Shelia. Don't worry." He placed both paws on his lower back and leaned back as far as he could go until a satisfy crack echoed around them. "Oh, yeah, that's better . . . Holey Crap!" he gasped, eyes going wide.
Lying before him was a forgotten city!
This was perhaps the best discovery next to Atlantis and he's been there before.
An ancient stone city in ruins with beautiful architecture of animals and faded murals of interactions between people and from the looks of it, large feathered fairies. Stone palaces along with fading jewels wears the early sun rays with dignity as they curve around him in a semicircle. Wild flowers and a variety of plants grow in between cracks on the floor and building, taking ahold of the city as if it were its hostage, slowly drawing it into the forest, never to be seen again. The middle palace, the largest of them all (probably six stories) left side was slowly crumbling into rubble with only a wobbly ledge of the third floor sticking out of the opening like a tongue. A pair of winged elephants stood at attention on either side of the awe-struck bunny with their wings outstretched and trunks held high. A bronze gong with an unknown language inscribed into it hangs on rusted hooks on his left side in a stone carved opening.
"Wow." He started forward to the center of the city, inching his way forward on dragging feet. He was nearly there when he suddenly stopped, he hears something.
It sounds like a flock of birds. Humming birds? Maybe?
Whatever it is, its large and coming fast.
His ears go erect and twitch in every direction. His nose turns up and he takes in deep, quick breath as his body goes ridged before immediately going into a fighting stance and pulls out his pair of boomerangs. "We're not alone."
He turns around just in time to dodge a sharp, curved blade coming straight at his head. The little Tooth Fairy runs to hide behind a boulder.
"Shit!" He hops back with a cry and skids to a stop on the stone ground, dusk taking to the air in his wake and pebbles rolling. He shoots his head up and looks up at his attacker under furrowed brows from on all fours, his boomerangs under his palms.
Emerging from the gray fog of mist first was the glint of the sword, the bright yellow of the sun dancing on the metal and making it appear longer than it really was. Slowing, the morning haze began to diminish as his attacker floated forward, as though making way for her but in reality was really being blown away by her quick transparent blue – green wings.
Hmm . . . just like the smaller one I saved.
She actually looked a lot like the mini fairy he saved the night before (the same fairy that saved him, too) except much, much larger. Pretty, too, her entire body was covered in aqua-green feathers, not counting the gold colored feathers that wrapped around her collar bone, wrist and ankles like jewelry. Her crown feathers grew towards the sky and surrounded her heart shape face, bristling in and out with every angered breath she took. Around her tiny waist was a purple sash that held another long sword against her right hip, the other in her tight fist. Bright round eyes of a unique color he has never seen before, bright violet. They squinted at the sight of him.
She was pretty, he couldn't lie about that but usually when someone's tries to decapitate him the last thing he wants to do is complaint them so . . .
"What the Hell, Lady!?" He quickly got to his feet and swung his arms out wide. "Have You Lost Your Damn Mind?!"
As if it were even possible, her eyes narrowed to even smaller slits. "You think you can just walk into my ancestral home, kidnap one of my fairies after harming her and get away with it?" She raised her sword to him. "You have got another thing coming, Mister."
"Lady," he sighed, "You got it all wrong –"
A quick blow to face cuts him off mid-sentence, he goes staggering backwards until he lands flat on his butt on the stones steps in front the gong.
"Gah," he cradled his bleeding nose from the ground and looks back up at his opponent, smugness written all over her pretty face as she pulled out her other sword and expertly swung them around confidentially.
Sighing, he got back up and placed his weapons away, wiping blood off his nose and holding up his hands in surrender. "I don't want to fight you, lady."
"That makes one of us," she flings her sword at his head again but this time he was ready. Just as the sword came at him, he ducked, which allowed her sword to go straight through the already weakened gong half way, getting stuck and sent a swift punch to her side and sent her flying back with an oooff.
He didn't want to fight her, he just wanted to return her fairy. But this stubborn woman wouldn't listen. He won't fight her. That he is sure of, if he wanted he could defeat her in a matter of seconds with a combination of moves he learned and perfected. If he wanted.
As she glided backwards, slightly hunched over with her hand over her side and panting, he grabbed the handle of her sword and yanked it out of the rusted gong. He held it at his side and took cautious steps forward. "Like I said," he grunted. "I don't want to fight you, lady."
She didn't even bother looking him in the eye when she swiftly pulled out her other sword and softly placed her feet on the ground. "Then . . . she should have thought of that before."
She lunged at him then, with a spin and a slice through the air their blades collided and a spark of lighting lit the blades in the early fog. Their swords connect with each other over and over again and their foot work is so fluently it's as if they rehearsed it.
Each blow she sends he dodges and each moment of quiet that passes when they back he shouts out his wants to not fight her.
He swings again and tries to rid her of her sword with a series of twist, when suddenly this fairy-lady flies up and sends a round house of kicks aimed at his chest. He goes flying back with a grunt of pain and drops to one knee, just as quickly she sends a back kick straight for his face but not before he grabs her ankle and swings her into the gong where the instrument chimes a song it hasn't sung in years.
"Alright, Shelia," he mumbled, getting into his fighting stance once again. "You want a dance, let's dance."
She smirked at him, "Ladies first."
Oh that got him going, baring his teeth like some wild animal and growling he lunged a fist at her, years of tai chi training and military tactics under his belts by far outweighed her swordsmanship. Just as she dodged his fist, he sent another straight for her gut, knocking the wind out her and sending her back into a palace wall. He flung his boomerang at her as he charged towards her, she easily dodge his weapon but wasn't quick enough to deflect his fist from hitting her jaw, it sent her head snapping back with a scuff.
Awestruck, the fairy-woman flew a few steps back and brought her fingertips up to her cheek, no blood but quickly swelling. During their whole fight so far he hasn't made any attempt to fight back, but know he seems to find some base in his voice. She grins and swings her sword at his cheeky little grinning face just as his boomerang came flying back from out of nowhere, she hears it coming from a mile away and moves to her left as it flies by her, grazing her cheek as the bunny catches it in his paw without so much as a blink
"Not bad, Shelia," he smiled as he pockets his weapon, swinging her sword his wrist with just as much cockiness. It's true, she wasn't bad at all,
She suddenly spun low on the ground, one leg bent and the other extended with her sword on top, aiming for his foot but he jumped at last minute and sent a kick to her shoulder. She lend all the way back, the wind of his kick grazing her cheek as she fell onto her back and just as fast as she landed she placed her hands under her back and back flipped onto her feet.
Crouching in front of him with her sword threateningly pointing at him, she whispered, "My name is not Shelia," she floated upward. "It's Toothiana."
Toothiana got into a fighting stance with her sword crossed over her chest, her free arm pulled back with abled fist ready to strike if need be.
"Well, Toothiana," he drawled out her name like it was something wicked and she hates the way a shiver runs up her spine at the sound of it. "I'm Bunnymund, and I don't mean you or your family any harm."
She scoffs, "That's what they all say," and lunges at him again.
Their fighting styles, both as different as they are and are worlds apart but somehow flows into a rhythm neither can deny dancing to. That's what they're doing, there not sure when it began and both are hoping that it won't end any time soon but their dancing to the sounds of each other's blows like it's a tango. A dance they are both willingly to stump on the others toes on in order to take the lead.
He kicks and she ducks, she sends a flurry of complex sword moves and he dodges each one with a series of tai chi techniques she's only seen in movies. Sweat clumps her feathered brow and is he smiling?!
A grin is plastered on his face as he grabs her fist in his own, somehow in the middle of their dance their weapons disappear, out of sight and out of mind. With a twist he pins her back to his chest and locks his other arm around her collar bone and traps her.
She lets out a dry laugh; half exhausted, half humor, "Not bad." She mocks and she can feel his grin and heavy breathing on her neck.
She then slams the back of her head into his mouth, she could have sworn she felt a tooth crack under her impact. Bunny grunted out a profanity but didn't let loose his grip. "I wish I could say the same."
"Funny," she elbowed him in the gut and slammed her head back against his again, this time breaking free.
She flew a safe distance from him then and took the opportunity to size up her opponent, checking for any weak spots was what she told herself but something inside herself laughed at the motion.
Tall, about 6'1'' which gave him at least a foot and a few inches advantage over her short saturate, but unlike him she had wings so height hardly mattered. This, Bunny, had ashen colored fur with a hint of blue, darker around his back and growing white around his belly and front with lean, muscled build. Crimson streaks painted thin lines on his arms and legs much like it did her blade, she almost didn't notice the flora marks on body. She noticed he had claws, but he never used them in their fight. Why?
Coming out of her reverie she noticed him taking larger steps back with his hands held up in surrender, panting. "Truce?"
She glares at him from underneath furrowed brow, not sure if this is some tactic to win or back stab her.
When she doesn't reply he waves a dismissive hand in her direction and circles her, her expressive eyes following his every move. "I'm going home," he announces with noted irritability as he bends down to retrieve his brown leather satchel of medicine and throws it at her feet. "This," he points to the bag, "Is for your fairy."
She watches him closely as he turns away from her, seemly conflicted before summoning a hole from the ground and hopping in, leaving her and her fairy alone. She stares at the ground he just disappeared through for a moment before she feels something tugging on the feathers of her wrist. Looking down she comes to see one of her many fairies, bandaged in tight white gauze around her chest and some parts around her arms and legs. Her fairy gives her a glare so fierce that if looks could kill she would already be dead.
"I, uh, I messed up," she said. "Didn't I?"
Her fairy nods firmly. You think.
Bunnymund sends the rest of the day sleeping on his worn couch and matted quilt (too tried to make his way up the stairs to his bedroom), his feet hangs off the back of the couch while the rest of him hangs upside down with his ears touching the ground, his body entangled with colorful patches of fabric. His loud snoring reverberates off his walls just as the bright orange light of sunset stream in through his windows and come to rest over his closed eye lids.
He groans out incomprehensible words and rolls on his side to escape the light, pulling the blanket over his head as he did so but just as he moved muscles were lit on fire. He promptly sat up in a sitting position and ran a tried paw across his face, blinking he took a glimpsed at the clock; going on six o'clock.
"Damn fairy." He made his way to the bathroom to wash the sleep out of his eyes, he only planned on napping for a few hour before getting back to work. Well, that planed failed.
He slammed the door shut and took his place in front the mirror, bending down he ran some cold water and slashed some onto his face. In the middle of washing he looked up between fingers and took a good look at his reflection. He was surprised by what he saw.
He was . . . glowing. Sure he had a black eye and a there were plenty of dark spots across his torso that signified bruising thanks to that fight earlier, but in spite of all that he was actually glowing. He could see it in his reflection, his eyes have never looked brighter. At least, not since he has grown bored with everything.
Slowing he stood up to his full height and leaned against the counter, one hand on the sink and the other braced against the wall next to the mirror. He looked closely at himself, as if the answer lied somewhere on his face.
Bored . . . hmm.
Maybe, and this was a big maybe, but maybe the reason for his suddenly radiance was due to the fight. It sounded ridiculous to even himself but it was possible.
He's been around for years.
Countless of years and has witnessed galactic warfare's upon its highest scale as well as humans fighting over something petty like who's land is who's. He's seen it all, but the downside to seeing the impossible possible and all sorts of beauty is you eventually stop feeling that rush you had in the beginning. The exhilarating quivers in his limbs before he jumped into the unpredictability of uncertainty that is life has been reduced to shivers that he can only experience when he's cold. The hot passion that once was ignited in his belly every time something new crossed his pass has suddenly been put to sleep. It's still there, he's sure of it, it's just hibernating.
Everything just seemed boring now, like he was going through the motions. His paintings and art projects provide a decent outlet to a world were such problems don't exist but only for a little while.
Not even a good fight with some rogue can awaken it and to be frank, he hasn't had a worthy opponent in a long time.
Till today that is, that . . . woman, Toothiana, she had skills he'll admit that. In the many fights he has engaged in over the years she is the only one that had managed to make him work up a sweat. Now that he thinks about, he can remember actually grinning while they fought.
She's was undoubtable one of the most interesting things to happen to him in some time.
And not bad looking.
Shaking his head, he grabs a towel and dries his face. It doesn't matter now, it was in the past and it'll stay in the past, he has work to do and he's certain she does too. He tosses the towel over his shoulder and makes his way out the door into the fields, if he hurries can probably get a at least two million eggs painted before sundown and spend a good bit of the night creating chocolate recipes. His mind is already racing with diverse patterns to paint and different combinations of sweets when his ears pick up that sound again . . .
Hummingbirds.
Bunnymund's feet move faster than his mind as he bolts to the mouth of the Warren, a thousand thoughts per second filling his brain and bumping into one another like hysterical children. He's not entirely sure what he should be feeling at a time like this; anger, offence? Either of the two would have do, but what he feels the most scares him. He feels the fire in his belly igniting and spreading the heated embers throughout his limbs and sending the tips of fingers tingling.
He feels . . . excited.
Lost inside his own head, he doesn't even notice the change of scenery and subtly change around. He reaches the mouth of the Warren, ready for round two. A jolt of anticipation that is almost pleasurable shoots through him, he readies his weapons and then –
"Wait!"
Toothiana exists the dark tunnel in front of him with her hands held up in surrender, a basket where her wingless fairy lays hangs from the crook of her elbow and in her other hand she holds . . . flowers? Fresh flowers by the look of it, extremely colorful and still covered in light dust of dirt. In all honesty they look like they have just been pulled from the ground and amateurishly put together in a makeshift bouquet of blues, reds, and yellows.
She keeps her hands up and floats closer to him, he notices in the back his mind that her swords and sash she wore the last time they met are absent.
With only a few feet between them she brings her hands back down to her sides and lands on her feet, a sheepish almost apologetic smile on her lips. "Hey," she says, ringing her hands together.
He glares at her.
Her smile flatters a bit before she clears her throat and then suddenly thrust the flowers out to him. "These are for you," she says in a quiet voice, avoiding his eyes at all cost.
Bunny stares at them for a moment, a look of bewilderment creasing his brows before bringing his gaze back up at her. A simple raise of an eyebrow is enough reason for her to explain.
"There 'I'm sorry flowers'," she makes a futile attempt to laugh. "Um . . . Baby Tooth, my fairy . . . the fairy you saved . . . explained everything to me." Her voice grew quitter as she went on. "And I just wanted to apologize for . . . attacking you earlier and," she mimicked a flimsy punch at him and nods. "Yeah, so . . . I'm sorry." She holds the flowers out even further and the remorse that fills her eyes makes him inwardly groan.
Dammit.
Hesitantly, his eyes fall back to the flowers and he can't fight the soft smirk that carves its way across his lips, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. This fairy just kept surprising him. Not even a whole day and he's seen two completely different sides to her; the protective mother who's willing to fight anyone who so much as looks at her family wrong with impressive fighting skills that managed to knock him down on hide more than once and there's this version of her. Bashful, and strangely adorable little fairy-woman offering him flowers, no, offering him "I'm sorry flowers" to make it up to him. It was oddly cute.
He had to bring a fist up to cover his mouth as sudden laugh came through. Toothiana shot him a startled look that only intensified when he took her flowers, a brief contact of the hands making her stiffen.
"Thank you," Bunny brought the flowers up slightly to sniff, looking over her beaming face from over the flower petals. "And, it's okay. I understand, you had to protect your family," he nods at the fairy in her basket who has been watching the entire exchange since the beginning.
He decided to take the damage her caused her, she wasn't badly hurt thankful but she did a few bruise spot around her hip and shoulder blades. She also had a pretty nasty cut over her brow, by the look of it she probably cleaned it and bandaged it, but if he remembers correctly that particular cut may need stiches.
Clearing his throat, Bunny brought her attention back to him, "Look, how about I take a look at that cut for ya," he pointed at her forehead. "It's the least I can do." He shrugged.
Nodding, Toothiana agreed. "I'd like that."
"Great, uh," he looks around until his eyes land on one his stone sentinels. "Why don't you wait here, I'll be back with my kit in second."
She nods again and does as instructed.
Like before, he summons a tunnel and disappears into the ground, off to where he keeps his medicine. A bright violet clematis popping up out the ground as it closed.
He was only gone for a moment, just as quickly as he disappeared he returned with a small white box with a red plus on the lid. He wasted no time in stumping in front of her and pulling everything he needed out the box to tend to her wound.
There was an air of concentration around him, she could practically see it in the way his eyes narrowed as he pulled her bandaged off and the way his mouth formed a stiff line. It was slightly intimidating.
"This may sting a little," he mumbled as he pulled out a threaded needle. Cautiously, he brought his paw behind her head and threaded his fingers into her feathers and tilted her forward, only a breath apart from him.
For a brief moment their eyes make contact, silence filling what little space is between them.
Bunny cleared his throat again and looked away, giving all his attention to the slightly deep cut over her feathered eyebrow. With as much gentleness one could offer when stitching someone else back together, he pulls and tugs the dark thread through her skin, only pausing to wipe away thin trials of red before it reached her eye.
"I don't suppose we could start over," she places her hand on his shoulder then, squeezing it when he threads through a sensitive part of her. "Could we?"
He breaks concentration for a moment to look at her before returning back to his work. "Sure. You start."
He hears a faint laugh come from her. As expected, she's shooting out her hand at him again, a quick glance at her confirms that's she smiling from ear to ear with a million watt smile. "I'm Toothiana," she says. "The Tooth Fairy and soon-to-be Guardian of Memories."
That got his attention. He finished his work and gave the wound a last minute clean and finally covered it with a fresh piece gauze. Sitting back on his hunches he grabbed her hand and shook it kindly. "Bunnymund. E. Aster Bunnymund. I'm the Easter Bunny and – you're not gonna believe this but, I'm a soon-to-be Guardian too. The Guardian of Hope to be exact."
The smile she gives him is contagious, before he can stop himself he feels himself returning the gesture.
She immediately takes to the sky in a fury of excitement, her bubbly personality overflowing and making itself known. "Really! Well this is great news!"
Ideas are rushing to the front of her mind as she flies about in circles, mumbling private thoughts to herself too quick and too quiet for even his large ears to hear. She suddenly gasped and whipped around to fast him with an optimistic smile lighting her face. "I have an idea!" She announced eagerly.
He didn't even get a chance to ask because she was suddenly face to face with him and gripping his shoulders with strength only she could possess. "Why don't come over for tea? At my Palace."
"What?!"
"Tea." She clarifies. "With me. Tomorrow. We're going to be Guardians, right? So why not get to know each other now?"
"I really couldn't impose –"
"Please." She giving a big pair of puppy dog eyes.
Normally he would roll his own eyes and turn her down flat, but maybe there was something more to this. Maybe this was her way to prove that she was sorry, he doesn't see why she would go through all this trouble. It really wasn't her fault. However, the look she's given him makes him think that he were to refuse he might hurt her feelings, and she was showing some-what vulnerable side to him.
Rolling his eyes, he sighs, "Fine, fine, I'll come –"
He's cut off again when she quickly wraps her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. "Oh, you won't regret it! I promise."
The hug she gives him roots him to the spot. Soft feathers press into sore body and their minty scent waft its way into his nose. He wasn't one for physical contact, but in this case he'll allow it. The experience could even be described as . . . nice.
Before he has a chance to return the hug she flies away from him and begins to make her leave, enthusiasm coming off her in waves. "Great. It's a date." She calls over her shoulder.
"Wait! It's a what-"
"I'll send one of my fairies for you," she calls from down the tunnel, more likely not hearing him or even realizing what she said.
Long after she disappears from his sight and her wings go silent, Bunny finds himself still standing dumbstruck in front the tunnel she just left in. After a moment of letting everything sink in he can't contain the chuckle that tickles his throat as he made his way deeper into his Warren. Okay, so this Toothiana was charming, in a incredible annoying prescient, yet adorably innocent kind of way.
As he strolls his way through his home, medical box in hand and a smirk on his face he realizes with a bit of butterflies in stomach that tomorrow can't come soon enough.
A/N 1: I hope you guys enjoyed my fanfic. I worked hard on it and expect more to come for SweetToothWeek, but it's only fair that I let you guys know that they will be terrible late. But I finished this in a matter of days so hopefully the same goes for the rest.
A/N 2: This is just my imagination running wild on how I think they first met
A/N 3: The reason Bunnymund and Baby Tooth were seen by adults was because they're not Guardians yet, so anyone can see them, not just kids.