Notes: The second of my Miranda drabble collection. Hope you enjoy. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own DGM or anything associated with the series. This is merely for entertainment purposes only.
Battle Scent
Miranda Lotto and Winters Zokalo
Miranda stretches her limbs like a cat after a long nap. She delights in the feel of silk against her naked skin and curls into a fetal position, hugging the sheet to her chest. She instantly regrets it when the foul odor of Akuma blood filters through her nostrils. She backs away instantaneously and grimaces towards the ceiling.
Her thoughts wonder aimlessly to her companion – more than likely the one who brought the smell to their bed. She herself showered after each time she killed an Akuma. Cleansing her body almost to the point of leaving raw rashes on her skin. Winters did not. Since the day they began this sorted, twisted sexual escapade, she never once seen him shower. So he undoubtedly was the carrier of the smell of death.
She lifted herself up, not bothering to cover her nakedness with the sheet. No one was going to come bursting into the room of General Zokalo. But beside that, she wanted far away from the battle scented linen.
She swung her legs over the bed, planting her feet on the cold surface of the floor. She sighed, already bored, and she had hardly even moved. If only Winters was here. Miranda would be called a 'freak' if they knew she desperately longed for the Generals presence. She couldn't fathom what her interest in him was. Perhaps the interest lie in the fact that Winters had told her he could careless of her abilities and inabilities. Of course he had said a lot more afterwards, and none to pleasantry. But she had grabbed his hand, mindless of his instant stiffness at her touch, and kissed each battle-worn finger.
In her many years of service to the Order she had grown stronger. She had gained the ability over many slaughters (many she herself took apart in) and losing comrades (a few at her fault) the ability to shut her emotions in. She only shared the few happy moments with those closets. But when the situation called for a harden-heart, she was there. So when Winters had so ruthlessly beaten her down with his barbed words, she had not given into crying or giving up her pursuit and only smiled, nodding in agreement.
She chuckles at the memories and picks herself up from the bed. She is mildly surprised when her toes brush against something soft. For she wore her battle uniform when she had sneaked into his room. And Winters did not do soft.
She looked down to see a red shawl laying half on her boot. She smiled, picking the scarf up, "This is yours Winters." She remembers her gift to him and holds it close to her face. She gasp and a instant spark lights her eyes, "You little sneak."
She hurries to get herself ready. A new mission is waiting beyond the confines of their room. She showers quickly, washing away any evidence of him, and quickly dresses in her black battle uniform. Grabbing a few more items she hurries out the door unheard and unseen.
She leaves the red shawl, smelling of her shampoo, folded neatly on his pillow.
Notes: Second drabble down! Really hope you enjoyed. If there are any mistakes, please tell me.
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