I haven't written any fanfiction in ages, but was compelled to write something a couple of days back. I'm working on more, too, though I can't promise when they'll be ready for publishing. Anyway, for all those LadyxDante fans, enjoy this one-shot!
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"Stand back, let me take a look." Dante shouldered the small woman aside, pointedly ignoring her glare as he attempted to tug on the handle of the door that had – inadvertently – closed behind them. He almost expected it to just swing open and allow them to pass through. It didn't. He gave it a harder shove but to no avail. The door was thick, heavy and apparently jammed so tightly that not even a demon could open it. Well, not in the usual manner, anyway.
"See, I told you." Lady frowned, crossing her arms across her chest.
He turned to meet her mismatched eyes and threw her a grin. "Hey, babe, give me a chance." He loved how such simple things as calling her 'babe' got her so riled. She was easy. Too easy. It always amazed him just how easy she was to wind up. Hadn't she learned by now that he got off on that kind of stuff?
Apparently not.
"Don't 'babe' me." She snapped back. "What are we going to do?"
He gave her a cool look and turned back to the door. Okay, so, this was going to take a bit more physical exertion than what he had first expected. Hell, that was fine. He was confident. So, here goes nothing.
Bracing himself, drawing in strength he rammed against the door, his shoulder meeting with the smooth, hard metal panels. The impact sent a shudder through the door that rattled the frame, but still it held. He gave a grunt of irritation and stepped back, rubbing absently at his shoulder. Perhaps if he had been human he would have thought twice about doing this. Luckily for him, he wasn't. He didn't bruise for long, wounds healed themselves up at incredible speed and his threshold for pain was somewhat boundless. Somewhat, but not entirely.
"Well done, genius." Lady stepped back from the door, the shadows in the hallway partly concealing her from view. "Forget it, there has to be another way out."
Looking disgruntled, the white-haired demon turned after her. "I could have done it if you'd had a little more patience, you know."
"Dante, are you seeing that door? It's not some flaky, wooden thing centuries old. It's a metal door built for the purpose of keeping things out." She quickly added, "and in, before you make some smart-mouth come back." She turned her back to him, heading across the hall with confident, eager steps. Unlike Dante she was beginning to feel tired after a day of fighting the minions of darkness and now, with nothing but a couple of bullets left, she was ready to head for home. To see Dante so up and ready and quite capable for more fighting left her feeling somewhat inadequate and despite the fact that she liked working with him, she always felt one step behind. At least when she was alone she felt capable and ready for anything. She felt like she could conquer the world. Watching Dante fight made her realise that she held nothing to him. Then again, he was a demon and she was a human. There was no comparison when she put it that way. It was only to be expected.
She was almost at the exit at the far end of the hallway when it happened.
The floor moved.
She lost her balance – tipped sideways by the added weight of the bazooka hanging across her back – and only just managed to catch herself before falling flat on her face. "What just—" The words were snuffed out by the sound of grinding metal on stone and as she looked up, her heart leapt into her throat. It took her a second to figure out what had happened.
Somehow she'd managed to stand on a panel that activated the door mechanism, perhaps a trap to keep those who had managed to break through the first door from getting much further than the hallway. The door – their only way of escape – was now sliding closed; intent on trapping them in forever.
"What did you do?" Dante blurted.
"Dante! Just shut up and MOVE!" Shrugging the bazooka onto her back she dived for the doorway as it slid down into locking position. She couldn't be trapped here. She just couldn't!
But she was and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
She slid to the ground, intent on crawling underneath the ever shrinking gap of escape. But even as she did so she knew she couldn't, not without leaving her bazooka behind and not without separating herself from Dante. Truth be told she didn't really care whether he got trapped, but leaving behind her treasured weapon, that was a no-go.
Dante, not seeming to realise it was too late, tore past her and tried – in a lame attempt – to hold open the door, sort of like how they do in the movies. Sadly, this wasn't a movie and the door was too far gone for Dante to get a good grip. Either way, a second later and he was forced to retract his fingers, watching in horror as the door slid into position, cutting off their escape.
A sense of helplessness and frustration filled the room.
Dante threw her a somewhat amused look and Lady's frown deepened.
"Did you plan all of this?" He asked, his voice strangely echoed in the confined space. Thankfully torches burned in their places on the walls, lit as they had first entered the house. Strange how everything had been going so smoothly until they had tried to leave. Perhaps the house had been made for keeping people locked in.
"What do you mean? Of course I didn't plan this! Some people don't actually like being stuck in dark, creepy houses with idiots that call themselves demon hunters!" Dammitdammitdammit! She cursed her own clumsiness and stamped down hard on the sunken floor panel, almost hoping it might reverse the process.
It didn't.
"Well, kind of convenient, don't you think? Managing to get us locked in this dark room together. Some might say you wanted it to happen."
"What? Why?" Even as she asked the question her face flared with heat. She knew Dante. She knew his perverted ways and she certainly knew what he was getting at even if she pretended she didn't. Just brilliant. It seemed like he was going to make this situation even more awkward by trying it on with her.
"Well…" He trailed, heaving Rebellion from its place on his back and setting the sword against the wall. "You know. Things happen in the dark, Lady."
She went rigid with anger and embarrassment. You would have thought she would have gotten used to his flirtatious behaviour by now. But she wasn't. His flirtation with her always seemed to work its way deep, winding her up, rendering her utterly speechless. Lady did not consider herself to be pretty or to be desired by a man in any way. She knew what she was. She was an aggressive, scarred, stubborn and secretive individual who found it almost impossible to open up to anyone. She was not delicate or dainty. She did not laugh or smile that much. Her clothes were not beautiful, though some might say her dress sense was rather revealing, considering that she was rather embarrassed about her appearance. If they had asked, she would have said they were practical. Wearing less when you spent day in and day out fighting meant less material to get snagged or slow you down.
Thinking about it, it almost hurt. Dante flirted with her as he flirted with other women. He made comments, undressed her with his eyes, but he never took it any further. In the three years that she had known him, she had seen him try it on with other women, seen him leave the bar with them hanging on his arm. But he'd never attempted to take it that far with her. She started to wonder whether the only reason he flirted with her was because that was the only way he knew how to talk with a woman, whether he wanted them or not.
It made her sadder still to realise that perhaps a year ago her feelings towards him had changed. That she had seen in him something good, something beautiful. Something that she loved. She had realised, too, that she could never tell him the way she felt because…well…it would only lead to more heartbreak and embarrassment on her part. No, if she told him then that would drive a knife straight into their friendship.
She'd never be able to live it down. She'd never be able to face him again.
No, it hurt but it could be a whole lot worse. At least by not telling him the truth she could still be his friend and friendship was something she severely lacked. She just wished he would leave off with this behaviour. It made things so much harder.
"I don't think so." She replied smoothly. "Besides, we can't be trapped, there must be a way out."
Dante's shining blue eyes watched as she moved across to the wall, her hands running over the uneven surfaces of the rocks, brushing aside wall hangings in an attempt to look for some lever or button that might release the catch on the door.
She threw him a glare. "Are you going to just stand there or are you going to do something useful for a change?"
"Alright, alright." Waving off any further angry comments, he moved to the far side, only half looking for the thing he knew wouldn't be there. The only way they were getting out was if Trish happened to notice they were gone and came to look for them. And that might take…well, a long time. Long in that they probably would have starved to death first. He supposed there were worse ways to go, even still, he'd always figured his death would be something of a spectacular event which would – inevitably – lead to the fall of the world. (Yes, he thought a lot of himself).
After maybe twenty minutes of searching in the poor light he heard Lady's angry grimace and the dull thud as she kicked the wall.
"Okay, Plan B!" He announced, turning to catch her arm as she strode back towards the door to vent some of her frustration on it.
She whirled on him, instantly fighting to free herself of his grip. It was a futile attempt.
"Let me go."
"What's the magic word?"
"Now." She said it with such seriousness that he couldn't help it, he burst into laughter, leaving her seething in silence.
"Come on, Lady, we're not getting out of here. You know that. I know that. Let's just sit and wait it out."
"Wait it out? For what? The door to magically decide to let us go?"
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
She stared at him, clearly not amused.
"I'm Dante, super-strength demon. I'll get us out of here no problem."
"Oh, right, like you did just a moment ago?"
He rolled his eyes. "Okay, so that was a lame attempt. Just give me a moment to rest and things'll be different."
"Rest?" She blinked, surprised, somehow thinking this some lame excuse to lazily while the time away.
"Well yeah, if you hadn't noticed, babe, I've been fighting all day."
"So have I." She snapped back. "And you don't hear me complaining."
"Come on, just humour me, okay?" Still holding onto her arm he dragged her back to the far wall under the torchlight and all but forced her to sit down.
She turned to watch him out of the corner of her eye, still angry but curious too. Was he really tired? She knew she was. Exhausted, in fact. Right now she could think of nothing better than a nice hot bath and burying herself under the covers. Looking at him now, in the poor light, she noticed that his eyes had lost an energetic spark. Apart from that, however, he looked the same as always. Yes, he probably worked harder than she did, being faster and more lethal, able to attack more demons and landing himself in the fray where as she tried to stay back and deal with them at a distance. Because of that he technically did work harder than her, though she'd never admit it.
"You've never mentioned this before."
"Mentioned what?"
"That you've ever been tired."
He shrugged, sitting forward so that his cascade of silver-white hair partly obscured his face. She withheld her desire to brush it back so she could better see him, realising that she had to mentally stop herself from acts like that more and more nowadays.
"Perhaps it's old age." She laughed, shifting back against the wall. She was twenty now, at the peak of her physical limitations, strong and swift despite being a female. Judging from Dante, she was guessing he was a little older than her, perhaps twenty-five. She could never be sure and she never saw fit to ask him. What did it matter anyway? He was beautiful and that was that. He'd still be beautiful even if he was ten years older than her, and she wasn't just talking about physical beauty. What attracted her most was his inner beauty, his spirit.
"Hey, babe, do I look old to you?" He seemed genuinely miffed and she laughed again, genuinely, a rare and beautiful thing.
"Okay, okay, so half-devils get tired too. We'll rest for a little bit, but only for a little bit. I don't mean let's go to sleep for eight hours and consider our situation in the morning."
"I don't think I could cope with spending that long caged in with you anyhow, babe."
"Yeah? Well just think how I must be feeling right now."
"Pretty damned lucky." He replied. "Seeing as not many women get the chance to be locked in a room with such a handsome guy as me."
She didn't respond and that was enough to tell Dante he'd gone too far.
--
She woke feeling stiff and bone-achingly cold. She'd fallen asleep on her side, back pressed to the wall, legs curled up against her, hugged by her arms. Now she could barely move, her spine popping as she forced herself up into a sitting position.
Half of the torches had gone out; casting the room into further, deeper darkness and with it had come a chill that had eventually roused her from slumber.
Numbly, she cast her eyes around the room, seeking Dante and slightly afraid to see he was not sitting beside her. Where had he gone?
The sound of clanking metal brought her thoughts into a new direction. What if he'd gotten out and not told her? What if a demon was here? What if he was lying hurt? What if she was next?
"Dante?"
The sound stopped. "Over here."
She stood, rubbing at the goosepimples covering her arms, and moved towards him. As it was she ended up walking into him in the darkness, mumbling an embarrassed apology.
"You're in my light."
"What are you doing?" She sidestepped and peered over his shoulder from where he was hunched down.
"Trying to pick this lock."
"You really think that might work?"
"Well, it's worth a shot, right?"
She stood watching him struggle with the lock for a long while, knowing he wouldn't succeed but not really prepared to tell him that. Even if she had he probably wouldn't have listened. In fact, it was only when she struggled to keep her teeth from chattering that he looked up from his work, concerned.
"You trying to say something, huh?"
She gritted her teeth, cursing inwardly. "Well, if you hadn't noticed, it's getting late - and cold."
Taking her by surprise, he reached up and took her hand, rubbing chilled fingers in his warmer ones. She was surprised by how warm he felt, almost as if he weren't affected by the steadily dropping temperature. She was also aware by how her skin tingled at the contact, how it flushed her face and made her feel warmer inside despite how small and insignificant the action.
"W-what are you doing?" And then she realised how tender the action was, how gentle his fingers, sensual even. Horror gripped her, realising that she was allowing him to do this. Her brain must be numb, too! Before she could stop herself she pulled her hand out of his and staggered back a little. "I'm fine." She added, trying to cover up her unexpected and somewhat ridiculous reaction to something that had been done with genuine concern and care.
Dante tilted his head, confused. He knew Lady didn't like physical contact. At times when he'd brushed against her she'd flinched and drawn away. Other times he'd been forced to carry her out of harm's way or catch her from a fall or jump. Always she'd ended up flustered and maybe…afraid? But this was ridiculous. You couldn't live your whole life avoiding physical contact with people.
Irritated, he snatched up her hand again. "I'm trying to help."
She noticed the change in his mood. Joking, teasing Dante was gone, replaced with this serious man who would not be argued with. In the right frame of mind he could be even more stubborn than her. She noticed it occasionally when she'd said something that might have offended or hurt his feelings, too. Maybe she'd hurt his feelings now, by refusing his help.
"That's not going to help." She continued, trying to pry her fingers free.
"You know, being such a feisty woman, I never would have thought you'd have been afraid of me."
"Afraid? What?" She blinked.
"You fight all those demons, risk your life. Babe, I'm the safest demon in the world and your scared of me the most." He laughed, trying to lighten the mood. "I know men aren't supposed to understand women, but seriously, you're in a league of your own."
"You're not a demon, Dante." She corrected, taking heed of the effect those words seemed to have on him. His eyes softened, clearly touched by the statement. She thought more on it and sighed. No, she'd know how to deal with him if he were a demon. The fact that he was a man was what complicated things. The fact that she was in love with him.
"Well you've changed your tune."
"I was just a kid back then." She replied, though it had only been three years ago. Even Dante couldn't deny that she'd done a lot of growing up since then. With revenge cooled in her she had really focused on bigger and greater things – accomplished with the help of the red-coated man. "And you were an ass." She added. "Oh, wait, you still are."
"And that's what you love about me, right, babe? It keeps things interesting."
She moved to hit him and he dodged neatly, laughing.
"Feel better?"
"A bit." She admitted.
But as the night drew on and more of the torches blinked out, the cold grew worse and she retreated to a corner where she huddled there, knees to her chest, hands tucked in against her belly.
Eventually Dante gave up and moved to join her, sitting so close that he was literally pressed against her. Normally she would have pushed him away or told him to get lost, but the action was not flirtatious, it was practical. Sitting closer would help contain warmth.
"How you doing over here?"
"Just wonderful. Sitting here listening to you in the cold, dark, damp corner of this freaky house is just the sort of thing I dream about doing."
"You have strange tastes." He reached for her arm and was surprised at how cold she felt. This possibly wasn't good. Yeah sure, he was a little cold, but then he was wearing more clothes and weren't men generally more hot-blooded than women? Who knew. Either way, she clearly wasn't comfortable. She wasn't even pulling away from him anymore and that wasn't a good sign.
Perhaps being locked in together was doing them some good after all.
He thought back to a few weeks ago. Him and Lady had just had another heated argument about money and, when she'd stormed off in rage, Trish had looked up from the couch and arched a brow at him. He'd asked her what she was looking at and she had told him then that they were both as bad as one another. She'd also said something else that brought a somewhat surprised expression to his face. She'd said that they should just admit that they wanted one another then they should just admit it and get on with it. She'd also said that if they didn't she was in her right mind to lock them in a room until they'd sorted out all of their issues.
Well, here they were, locked together and she had been right – not that he'd ever tell her. No way. She'd never let him forget it – though, if they were relying on her to come save them then he wouldn't need to say anything. She'd see it for herself.
But, she wasn't right yet. They hadn't sorted any of their issues, not yet anyway. No first thing first, he was going to explore this issue Lady had with physical contact.
He stood up and she looked at him, something in her eyes betraying her disappointment. He smiled down at her as he shrugged out of his long, red coat. Sure, it wasn't the cleanest of coats, a bit dirty and torn from their latest battle, but it would certainly help keep her warm. He handed it out to her.
"What are you doing?" She retorted.
"Sometimes I think you don't like it when I try to be a gentleman. Make the most of it whilst it lasts, okay?" He threw it at her then, not waiting for her to take it from him. Then he sat back down next to her and watched as she stared down at the coat in her lap.
"What about you?" She asked suddenly.
"It's fine. If I get cold I'll steal some heat from you."
She eyed him, knowing what he was getting at but refusing to rise to the bait this time. After a moment she shrugged into the coat, wrapping it tightly around her. The shoulders were far too broad, but its larger size helped contain the heat much better than a smaller one would have.
And before the last torches flickered out – leaving them in utter darkness – Dante couldn't help but think how cute she looked snuggled in it.
His feelings for Lady were somewhat complicated. She was different from other girls in that she didn't seem affected by his charm, or his smooth-talk. He could flirt subtly or outrageously and it didn't seem to make any difference. It just seemed to make her angry and twitchy. And yet, more recently, he'd noticed something else, too. She blushed a lot. He'd noticed that when it happened she'd cover it up with anger. He liked it; her blushing. It did something to her eyes, softened her whole face. He'd always maintained this notion that she was attracted to him but wasn't allowing her feelings to be known. He guessed he wasn't surprised about that. After all he was handsome enough to win any woman and Lady probably didn't know a whole lot about the dealings of the heart. He doubted she'd even had a proper boyfriend, spending much of her teen years attempting to hunt down and kill her father. It only seemed right that he show her somehow, but at the same time he was hesitant, too. This hesitancy had been recent. He teased her a lot, sure, but it was always affectionate. Now, when he flirted with her and offered her his 'services' a part of him desperately wanted her to say yes. He'd show her a good time so hell, why not? He'd never really dwelled on this hesitancy. After all, Lady was Lady and she'd never risk her heart by saying yes. He knew it, but it didn't stop him wanting it. No, what really surprised him were his feelings towards her and how quickly they had changed.
When the darkness came, Lady felt suddenly afraid. She knew it was stupid. There was no danger in darkness. In fact, it had provided her with life-saving cover countless times before. But now, in the chill nothingness, listening to the sound of dripping water and Dante's breathing, she felt afraid. Afraid that he might disappear and leave her hear alone, forgotten forever. She cursed at herself for being an idiot and didn't realise – until it was too late – that her hand has snatched out to find him. Her fingers at his elbow.
"Wow, it's true what they say about learning something new everyday." Dante's voice sounded.
"What?"
"Lady's afraid of the dark."
"No I'm not." And she tore her hand from him, tucking it against her so it couldn't be tempted to betray her again. "I'm not afraid of anything."
"Oh, so you won't mind if I do this, then."
She heard him draw nearer and suddenly his arm was snaking around her shoulders, applying just enough pressure that she tipped sideways and fell heavily against him.
The breath left her, lungs tight and burning with shock. She tried to move away, but couldn't quite manage it, not before he tightened his grip even further.
Her stomach had turned to jelly and though she was warmer, her shaking increased.
"Dante, what are you doing?"
"Running a marathon. What does it look like?"
His sarcasm angered her and she tried to pry herself away from him, pushing against his ribs in an attempt to loosen his arm. She gave a squeak of surprise when his other arm came round to grab her by the hip and in seconds she was being hoisted up into his lap, pressed to his chest, her head over his beating heart.
"Dante…"
"In answer to your question." He interrupted and she could hear the smile in his voice. "Keeping warm. You have my coat and I'll have you. Fair is fair."
"You can have the coat back." Lady insisted. This whole thing was making her so flustered she could barely think straight. She was in his arms. She was sitting in his lap. She could hear his heartbeat; strong and fierce against her ear.
She was in heaven.
So why try and end it when this made her so…so happy? Well the answer was simple. She couldn't allow this to happen because if she did she might end up saying things she didn't mean. Or, even if she didn't say anything, the whole memory would be impossible to forget. She'd always remember this and yearn for more. Yearn for something she couldn't have.
Wait, wasn't she doing that already?
"Dante." Her voice was small. "I think you should let go."
"I'm not going to try anything, if that's what you're worried about."
She wasn't sure how to feel about that. She knew she should feel relieved and happy that he wasn't going to make the situation even more awkward than it already was. But, in reality, the statement crushed her. It was true then that he thought nothing of her in that sense. He didn't even fancy her a little bit. Hell, he didn't even want to attempt it, using her as some sort of challenge. Was she so undesirable and ugly that he wouldn't even want to try it on to prove something to himself? That no woman could resist his charms?
Angry and hurt she shoved against him violently, taking him by surprise enough that she was able to free herself. She stood and turned towards him, the coat falling from her shoulders and pooling around her feet.
She could not see him in the darkness. "I said, let go."
Then he was standing and she backed away, afraid. Wait, she was afraid? Afraid of Dante? Hell yes. She wanted out of here. Out of this darkness where she couldn't see his expression, couldn't read what he was thinking. She hated this!
His hand brushed against her arm and she tensed. "I mean it, Dante." Why wasn't he saying anything? Was he trying to make her mad? Did he want her to lash out?
"I don't think you do." He replied, his voice soft. "I think you want me."
Instant reaction: Denial. Denial. Denial.
"Are you delirious? When have I ever given you that impression?" She'd been so careful, hadn't she? She'd never risen to his advances, never spoken a word. How could she have been so obvious that a dimwit like Dante would notice?
"Then if it's not true, say so. Say: Dante, I don't want you. Not now. Not ever. Go on, say it." As he spoke his hand had walked a slow trail up the length of her arm, gentle and suggestive. Now it had reached her shoulder and was stroking just beneath the collar of her shirt. "Well?"
She was frozen. Frozen with shock. With fear. With indecision.
If she repeated his words then that was it. No more living in some sort of ridiculous fantasy that things might work out. No more pretending that they might end up together in the future. It would be the end. Could she really do it? Ugh, what was she thinking? She had to do it or else face ruining everything. She swallowed and prepared to repeat the words, her heart breaking even as she thought them over in her head.
But before she could even open her mouth he'd leaned close. She felt his breath against her skin and it tingled with nervous anticipation. She felt the heat of his closeness, smelt the scent of his skin. Trembling, she made no move to pull away; almost afraid she might invoke some sort of bad reaction.
Why was he doing this? Why now after all this time? Had he been waiting for this opportunity? To get her alone and force her to admit her deepest desire? And why? So he could tease her for all eternity?
"I'll take your silence as your answer, then." He whispered. His hand now made a slow line up the curve of her neck, fingers lacing through her hair, pulling her closer. She wanted to scream. Wanted to run and hide. Wanted to…wanted to…
"Dante." Her voice was a whisper. "You need to sto—"
Her voice had guided him to his target and their lips touched. A flare of heat swelled inside of her, a surprisingly fierce reaction to so gentle a kiss. His mouth was warm and soft and she felt as if she were drowning – probably because she was holding her breath.
And then they parted and though they sought to find one another's eyes, the darkness forbade it, leaving them feeling somewhat separated despite their closeness. But maybe it was because of the darkness that Lady found a sudden surge of bravery. Her hands slipped up through his hair, holding his head lowered at a level she could reach. Then, leaning up, she pressed their lips together again, fiercely, desperately. He reacted in just the way she always dreamed he would. His arms fixed tightly around her waist, his grip practically lifting her from her feet. She felt his firm body pressed to hers, her chest to his, her hips to his. They fitted together in such a way that it was like they were made for one another.
Driven by this newfound passion, these urges that had been harbouring for months on end, Lady's mind was a swirl with a thousand different emotions; some familiar, some not so.
She wasn't the only one.
He'd always wondered what it would be like to kiss her. What it would be like to turn her fiery energy into something more…productive. Now, finally, he'd managed to invoke that reaction in her. And it was…amazing. He'd kissed so many women in his lifetime that he'd lost count of them, but no girl had stirred this sort of emotion in him. What it meant scared him, if he was going to be honest, but he'd think about that later. Right now he wanted to see how far he could push this.
He deepened the kiss and to his surprise, Lady seemed more than willing to oblige, moaning into his mouth. Her body – which had been somewhat tense – seemed to fall limp, allowing him to support her in his embrace.
And then, without warning, he ended it. She whimpered in response and he grinned, ecstatic. Oh yeah, she so wanted him. He leaned closer, kissing her jaw line, moving down to her neck. She shivered, encouraging him, and he pressed a line of kisses down to her collarbone. Still holding her tightly, he moved one arm and reached up to attempt unbuttoning her shirt. But, the instant she realised what he was doing, she tensed and he knew immediately that he'd pushed it too far. He was a bit disappointed that she'd reach her limit so soon, but this was Lady after all. She wasn't going to be easy.
Now she was pushing him away, her breathing heavy. "We shouldn't be doing this."
He growled. It seemed like the moment of 'madness' was passing. Common sense was flooding back to her and she was preparing to shut herself down again.
Dammit and he was just starting to really have fun.
"Why? Who's gonna know?" He attempted to draw her back into his arms but the defences were already falling back into place. She moved and he heard her lifting his coat up from the floor.
"I'm going to know."
"And?"
She was silent for a moment. "I don't understand."
"What?"
"Why now?" She sounded sad. Without thinking she reached up to touch her lips. They still tingled. "Is it because its dark?" And she laughed but it was a hollow sound. "Were you…were you just pretending I was someone else?"
He gaped. Was she for real? "What are you talking about? If you hadn't noticed I have been flirting with you ever since we met."
"So? You do that with every woman." She insisted, growing angry. Much to her horror, tears gathered in her eyes and she was thankful he couldn't see them. They'd kissed! And now she was never going to live it down. He knew the truth. He knew her heart.
"Pretty women." He corrected. "Not every woman. I do have some taste, you know."
"Well then, you're definition of pretty is kind of broad, don't you think?"
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"If you hadn't noticed, Dante, I am not pretty. I'm nothing like those tall, beautiful blonde women you spend all your time flirting with." So the truth was coming out now…
"Okay, sure, you have your faults." He retorted. "But you also have things they don't."
"I don't want to hear it." He heard her turning from him but he reached out, attempting to grab her arm. He missed, finding her chest instead. She squeaked and bounced back away from him. "You pervert!" She screamed at him, and then she was coming for him and her palm caught him neatly across the face.
"Ouch, babe, that's exactly what I'm talking about!"
"What?"
"You're fiery. A fighter. Determined. You never let anything get in your way."
She halted, realising that he wasn't even talking about her physical assets. He was…he was talking about her inner ones, her spirit. Her throat felt thick. She couldn't reply. This wasn't the Dante she knew. Since when did he look for inner beauty in the females he flirted with?
"And you know…" His voice was lowered, husky. It sent a shiver down her spine. "That's what I look for in a woman."
Silence.
"And I already know what you look for in a man."
She blinked, her face heating.
"Secretly, deep down, you want a guy who can protect you, right? Keep you safe when things go wrong. You want a guy who'll encourage you to loosen up."
"Someone like you, you mean?" She snapped.
"Exactly. And I can't say I blame you, babe, after all, thousands of women would agree with your taste in men."
"Well that's where you're wrong."
He moved close, his hands reaching up to grasp her elbows. "Oh? So what is it you see in me, then?"
"You are so full of yourself." She growled, trying to pull free.
And he kissed her again.
She fought against him at first but he refused to release her, driving her backwards until she was pressed between him and the wall. His coat had been forgotten, dropped from her hands as she tried to escape.
He pulled away, leaving her gasping for breath and, here a slither of pale light filtered in through a crack in the ceiling. It pooled in her mismatched eyes and highlighted the edges of her face. "Now, isn't this familiar?" He whispered, leaning close.
She blinked and was automatically dragged back to the past, back to Temen-ni-gru when they had first met. He had pinned her like this, his body so close, so warm. He'd leaned towards her for…for what? A kiss? But she'd moved her head and evaded him.
"Care to repeat history?" He whispered.
She felt tears rise, unbidden to her eyes, and she reached up, touching his cheek with her fingertips. She brushed the hair from his eyes and tried to imagine them in full light – blue as blue could be. Beautiful. Could she really allow this to happen? Yes, okay, they'd already shared three kisses, but did she have to make it worse? The moment of passion was gone. If she allowed him to kiss her now when she was in her right mind, that would be different…wouldn't it?
"What are you afraid of?" He asked, still making no move to claim her mouth.
"You don't understand what it's like to be me." She replied, her voice shaky. "I'm…" What…more fragile than she appeared? Could she admit that to him? Strangely, in te dark, she felt courageus, as if she could tell him anything. "It's…hard."
"Then tell me."
She swallowed. "I'm…afraid."
"Of me?"
"No…of…of my own feelings. I can't do this, Dante." A tear escaped, running down her cheek. He caught it on a fingertip, taking the opportunity to cradle her face in his hand. "I'm not like you. I can't just kiss and forget. I don't sleep around. I don't…" She shook her head. "I'm just not like that."
He got it. She didn't approve of one-night-stands. Hell, that was fine. If she was as passionate in bed as she was kissing then she'd probably be the best bed-buddy he'd ever had. He could give up sleeping around so long as she kept his bed warm, no problem!
"That's fine." He replied. "I'd be willing to give up my skirt-chasing habits for you."
"What?" Her eyes widened.
"Listen, I'm not saying I'm prepared for a serious relationship or anything. That's just not my style. Buuut, if you want me then I'm not going to say no and I won't go cheating on you behind your back if that's what you're worried about."
Well yeah, she had been worried about that, actually.
"So what would we be, then?"
"Friends with privileges?" He grinned.
She wasn't sure about that. It sounded almost soul-destroying. To sleep with the man you loved and know that he would never truly love you back. But he had to feel something, right? If he was willing to give up his old habits for one woman. She had to mean more to him than the others he'd spent time with, right? Maybe…maybe if she said yes he might come to realise he loved her back? Part of her knew it was a hopeless dream but she couldn't help but be tempted.
More tears welled but she held them back.
He kissed her again, gently, catching her bottom lip between his teeth. That was all she needed to make up her mind. She could never tire of kissing him. She knew that already. She kissed him back, passion rising again like the surge of the sea. They pulled each other to the ground, pressing their bodies close, entangling their limbs.
Neither of them knew how long they stayed like that, sharing one kiss after another, lost in this newfound hobby of theirs. Neither of them cared how long it took for Trish to discover they were gone. Neither of them seemed to notice the cold anymore.
Eventually, breathless and tired, Lady decided to throw caution to the wind and curled up against his chest, her head tucked beneath his chin. She fell asleep to the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat and woke to find his arms curled protectively around her.
She also woke to the sounds of a door being dragged open and blinked into a band of light coming from the entrance. A shadow partially obscured the light and, as her eyes adjusted, she realised who it was.
"Trish?"
"Well look here at the loved up couple. What did I tell you, Dante? All you had to do was keep her in one place for long enough and she broke."
Dante shot her a look that clearly said: shut up right now else I'll be the bane of your life for all eternity.
Lady, realising how they'd just been caught, rolled out of his arms and found her feet. "It's not what you think."
"Oh?" The blonde arched a brow. "It all looks pretty clear to me."
"No…no, it isn't."
Dante stood, retrieved his coat and threw them both a grin. "What are you talking about, babe? There's no point denying it. Last night was one hell of a wild ride."
He burst into laughter at the look on Lady's face.
She was too easy.
---
fin.