Skin Deep
Bulma gazed at her reflection in the mirror of her master bathroom. She had just showered and was getting ready for bed.
Over the years, watching herself age had always been disconcerting for Bulma. But, now as she was at the edge of turning sixty, her reflection only seemed to bare witness that her finest years were now far behind her.
The fine lines had become more prominent. The blueness of her hair had become more ashy as silver began to take over, prompting her to dye her hair. Her skin began to sag and had all but lost its youthful glow.
Even with all the creams and cosmetics she had implemented over the years, the affects of time were still evident in her appearance.
It saddened her to no end.
She longed for the years when she was younger. When she looked the perfect picture of youthfulness. When no one mistook her for her daughter's grandmother or her husband's mother.
She had even considered getting 'work done' on herself before Vegeta would convince her not to, insisting she looked fine the way she was and accusing her of obsessing over her appearance.
She turned with a sigh and switched off the light as she exited the bathroom to crawl into bed, weary after another long work day.
Vegeta was already in bed, waiting for her.
As Bulma looked at her Sayin husband, she was once again reminded of how unfair it was that, unlike herself, Vegeta still looked as youthful and god-like as he did the day they met all those years ago on planet Namek.
So unfair!
Bulma crawled in, switched off her bedside light, and laid on her side, facing the edge of the bed.
As she closed her eyes, Bulma felt her husband move closer to her, draping his arm over her and pulling her flush to him, trailing tender kisses down her cheek, her neck, on her shoulder, before lightly nipping her earlobe, making her giggle.
"I want you," Vegeta whispered, lovingly. "I want you, Bulma."
Bulma's heart ached.
It bewildered her that Vegeta would still find her attractive.
She wasn't attractive. At least, not like she used to be.
And, yet, age hasn't touched him.
What kept him with her?
What made him stay?
What possessed him to call her beautiful. Sexy.
Wrinkles weren't sexy.
Sallow, sagging skin wasn't sexy.
She just didn't get it.
"Sorry, honey," she sighed. "Not tonight."
"Not in the mood?" he asked.
She didn't answer.
Vegeta released her and laid on his back. He thought about how long she took in the bathroom tonight and remembered seeing how she was looking at herself in the mirror as he had entered their bedroom earlier.
"You obsessing about your looks again, woman?" he asked with a hint of irritation as he looked over at her, concerned.
"Good night, Vegeta!" she answered with far more irritation.
She did not want to talk about it.
Too bad!
Vegeta sat up and switched on his bedside lamp, determined to talk this out once and for all.
"Why do you keep doing this to yourself, woman?" he demanded.
"Keep doing what to myself?" she countered, not moving.
"You know damn well what I am talking about! You obsess over your appearance to the point of making yourself depressed, and for what? Because you don't think I'll find you desirable anymore?
Because you think I'll tire of you or something?
"You think your physical beauty is the only reason I even married you? And what about my wanting to make love to you tonight..?"
"You married me because you knocked me up and you want to have sex because you're horny," Bulma groaned, still without looking at him.
Vegeta gritted his teeth at her accusations, clenching his fists.
"How could you think so little of how I feel about you?" he continued. "What do I have to do to prove myself? I've spent all these years loving you, protecting you, raising our kids with you, putting up with your crap, and you think all of that hinges on the way you look?"
Bulma had to admit, he had a point. She just couldn't admit it to him, though, as tears began to well her eyes.
Vegeta exhaled as he laid back down, looking at the ceiling.
"You, know, Bulma," he resumed after giving himself time to calm down. "I've done things over the years that I'm sure gave you more than enough reasons to walk away. I've killed people. Wiped out entire planets. I even killed people you care deeply about. Hell, I even turned away from the life we built together so I could go back to being that cold-blooded killer and fight Kakarott! And you're still here! If you ask me, that's crazy."
He looked over to her. She still had her back to him.
He looked back at the ceiling.
"Is it because of my age or appearance that you stick around? Or is it because you see something in me that I don't see in myself?"
He looked over at her again, watching, as she finally rolled over and looked at him as a fresh tear trickled down her cheek.
Vegeta's lips slowly formed into a smile, and Bulma reached over to him, cupping his cheek as she kissed him gratefully.
"Thanks, honey," she said.
"Yeah, well, I meant it, babe."
"Now, would you mind tuning your light off?"
He quirked his brow.
"If we're gonna get it on, I don't want the light shining in my eye."
Vegeta was more than happy to oblige.