Relinquished Words
Her hair fell all around her on the pillow. His black eyes wandered over to the window, noticing the gap in the curtains where the moonlight was shining through. Its pale white rays flung through the glass and traveled to her hair. His stomach tightened at the beauty of her. She had let her hair grow long again, and now it shimmered like water in the moonshine. He had always had an attraction to her hair and admired the way it was the color of the Earth's sky.
As he watched her breathe deeply and evenly, and the way her eyelashes fluttered on her cheeks, a wave of raw guilt suddenly washed over him. All these years… Trunks was almost four now. In all this time, Bulma had done her best to befriend him, and it had worked. She would actually tell people, "He's my friend." The first time he heard that he didn't know whether to laugh, get angry, or even… Sometimes he felt the beginnings of tears burning his eyes. But usually those were accompanied with frustration, bitterness or defeat. Since Kakarot had died, there had been moments when he had needed desperately to be alone. He would never cry in front of anyone, least of all Bulma. She respected and loved him, though he didn't know why… He went back to his original thought. In all these years… he had never let her know how he felt. But he had come back to her after Cell had been defeated; she should know that he felt something. Their first night together after the death of Goku had been the most passionate one they had ever known, and now he was beginning to figure out why. He was in love with her.
Bulma, so sure of herself and so temperamental. Beautiful, wild, brilliant and somewhat crazy. He loved many things about her, but he had never said a word. She let him stay with her though, she must know. She had to know that he would stay with her. He wanted her, and he even felt that he needed her. He thought about what would happen if she told him to leave, that she didn't want him to live here anymore, and that she had never really loved him. As he played the scenario out in his head, his chest started to feel heavy, like someone was pouring lead in his lungs. Galaxies above! Did he really care for this woman that much? This fragile, insignificant, weak little… But she wasn't weak, and she wasn't insignificant, at least not to him. She had enough strength to co-exist with someone like him, and that was a feat within itself. She was amazing for a simple woman, and that was why he had chosen her.
His thoughts evaporated as she rolled over and moved closer to him in her sleep. She lay curled against his body, and he felt like he was her shield. He looked down at her face, which was settled on his chest and touched her smooth cheek with the back of his hand. This woman was a gift to him, and he would not let it go to waste. He would relinquish the words that were inside of him. Someday…