Better To Die In Your Arms-Chapter Two-Midnight Rendezvous
Turning in bed, Lloyd stared out of the window at the channels of water streaming down the windowpane.
A bright ball of lightning flashed down from the heavens, brightening up the inky black sky momentarily. It was succeeded by a low, angry rumble of thunder that rattled the metal window grills threateningly.
Reaching out, he grabbed the pocket watch by his bedside table. It was exactly ten minutes to twelve; and he still could not fall asleep. Sighing, he told himself mentally that if he did not fall asleep by midnight, he would concoct some sleeping potion from one of the medical supply stores.
The rain and terrific noise outside with partially the problem, but something else was bothering him even more than the weather.
She had been with them for a week, and though he had dropped many hints of his affection towards her, she never did seem to take notice of them or consider them seriously. Even the kiss he had given her did not seem to stir up any realization within her mind. There was no change in her attitude at all, except that she seemed more comfortable with him. It seemed as though she had not understand his feelings when he had kissed her.
Was she just afraid to know consider the possibility? Or was she plainly ignorant towards issues of love and needed more direct hints? After all, based on what she had told him, she grew up in an all-women environment, protected from men by a barrier consisting of her two sisters and a Lycian lady.
The last possibility was what that frightened him the most. Was she ignoring the signs because she already had a boyfriend back in Eliwood's Elite? And was her boyfriend one of those big, lumbering and overbearing louts who refused to let their girlfriends make contact with other males? Had he just unwittingly interfered in the midst of another relationship? Must he give up his dream and happiness to some other male halfway across the continent, one whom he had never even seen before?
Brooding gloomily, he recalled the previous time he had fallen in love. He had fallen for another Black Fang assassin, who was ruthless, menacing, cold, poisonous, and deadly beautiful. What had struck him most was her name. Venecia, a chilling name for a chilling person.
He had just turned twenty, and was at the peak of his entire teenage life romantic ideology, of which he had foolishly believed that he would find true love someday. He had thought that Venecia was the one he could entrust his love to. Yet, laughingly, she had scorned him and trampled his love under her feet, smashing his philosophy. Instead, she had chosen to go with one of his friends, Froster, in an attempt to mock him.
From then onwards, he brushed aside all his adolescent notions and concentrated on picking up the arts of the sword, training day and night with his brother, relentlessly making his title as the fearless and unbeatable swordmaster amongst the Four Fangs-the White Wolf.
Somehow, she seemed to have shattered his confidence in his sword, his beliefs on wielding a blade in one hand and nothing in the other. Her laughter thawed the cold layer of ice on his heart, allowing him to feel once more the radiance of being in love.
From experience, he knew that it was easy to fall in and out of love. It was just a matter of time. But this was different; it seemed so steady and warm, so tangible, so overwhelming…
He had, as he still remembered, never felt something like this before. It was a completely different kind of love. And he did not feel like giving it up.
The clock chimed. Twelve o'clock.
Grabbing a cloak on the chair, Lloyd dressed and sighed, smiling bitterly. "Well, I might as well have a glass of wine to accompany me on this lonely, solemn night when no one understands my feelings."
Silently, he walked down the corridor, heading for the wine stores.
As he rounded the corner, he saw her standing before the window, watching the tempest raging outside. The flashes of light reflected on her face lighted up her face momentarily with their blinding rays. Yet, she never did once flinch.
"Florina? What are you doing out here so late at night?" Lloyd walked forward and placed a hand on her shoulder.
Startled, she turned around and stared at him in shock. "N-n-nothing…" she stammered. "I-I-I just c-c-c-couldn't sleep…"
Smiling, he replied, "Well, would you like a glass of wine with me? I am not in the mood for sleeping right now either." He reached out his arm. "Here," he offered. Florina blushed lightly and took his arm.
The ice cubes in the twin glasses glimmered impatiently under the weak candlelight as Lloyd poured the dark red wine over them.
"Here," he held a glass. "I hope you find sherry to your taste. The others are all either celebratory champagnes or extra-strong whiskey, which seems to satisfy the Black Fang members the most. They have an incredible reputation in two areas: women and their drinking habits."
"It's fine," Florina sipped the liquid slowly, feeling the fiery taste slide down her throat, followed by the cooling wash from the icy coldness. "Actually, it tastes quite good. The highest quality wine I have ever drunk was six years old."
"This is approximately of fifteen years," Lloyd downed the wine in a gulp and put the glace back on the table. The ice cubes clattered as they connected with the bottom of the glass. Unstopping the bottle, he poured himself another glass. "Quite old and stale if you ask me."
"Not stale, Lloyd," Florina swirled the liquid around in her glass, listening to the slippery ringing of the ice cubes. "Wine is never stale, like true love."
"You think so?" His eyes were fixed on hers.
She nodded. "That was what my mother used to tell me when she still alive," she looked back into his amber eyes. "She always told me that true love is like carefully- brewed wine. The longer the wine is kept, the more fragrant and rich it becomes. Love works on the same theory. The longer you hold on to it, the purer it becomes."
Lloyd kept silent, but continued drinking. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and solemn, even trembling. "Have you found…true love before?" Lloyd asked, his eyes cast at the window. He could not bear to bring himself to even look at her.
"It's…hard to…define…" Florina said uncertainly. "I can't be…confident enough to…say anything…yet…"
"So, you do have a boyfriend in Eliwood's army?" Lloyd could feel the poisoned sting of jealousy in his heart. He held the glass in a tightening grip. He warranted that if it continued for any longer than a minute, the glass would shatter into pieces under the massive force.
"Well, you can't exactly consider him a boyfriend, he's…a battle partner," Florina hesitated. "We just fight together…he takes care of the strong, armoured units and the archers while help in getting rid of the magic units and sword units …but the tactician did suggest that we might want to… pursue something deeper and closer someday…" There was a faint blush tainting her cheeks as she turned her head to stare out of the window. The mild turning-up of the corners of her lips did not go noticed by Lloyd's sharp golden eyes.
"And who would he be?" Lloyd tried to mask the anger, disappointment and jealousy in his voice with the neutrality of the question.
"I don't know if you have heard of him…but he is quite famous…notorious rather…" Florina replied. "He's Lord Hector of Ostia, the future marquess of Ostia, brother of Lord Uther, the current marquess of Ostia."
No sooner had she spoken the words he felt the gigantic pressure on his heart. How could he, a mere Black Fang swordmaster, holding little prestige, ever compete with one of the lords of Lycia? Could he promise her the same things he could, if asked to compete with each other in a fair competition?
"Did you like him, Florina?" Lloyd demanded.
"Well…he was really what you would call an insensitive but caring person," Florina thought over the question carefully. "He is sort of rough in his manners and actions, but he is a very nice person once you get to know him. He is the typical kind whom are cold on the outside and hot on the inside."
Gritting his teeth, Lloyd downed another glass. He was already on the seventh glass, and he could feel the effects of the wine on his body. It was hazing his mind, confusing his logic and speech. He wondered if he had started slurring in his speech.
Never mind, he could afford to let himself get drunk tonight. It might ease some of the infuriation and pain he was currently harbouring. He did not have any duties scheduled the next day and he could easily spend the day in his bed regaining his soberness if he really needed to.
"Lloyd, I think you should go back to bed." In his dizziness, he could still hear her sweet voice ringing in his head. He wondered how many glasses he had emptied by now. He had lost count ten minutes ago. Possibly, he had just drunk two bottlefuls of sherry.
"I'm perfectly fine…" he said in a drunken daze.
"No, you're not…you're slightly drunk…I'll help you back…if you want…" He imagined her, smiling at him, her eyes filled with love. It was a pity that his mind was clouded. He would have loved to see her actual expression. "Here," he felt her cold, silky flesh brushing him lightly on the arm. He lifted his head wearily, and focused his distorted vision. He could see a hazy outline of her willowy figure and he grasped her tightly by the arm.
Gently, she helped him out of the room and down the dark corridor, illuminated dimly by the few torches lined up against the walls. The storm, he noticed, had already started to subside. Leading him to his room, she opened the door silently and led him in.
Without much further invitation, Lloyd fell upon his bed. Carefully, she helped him take off his thick cloak, folded it neatly, and placed it on his chair. Having completed what she felt a necessity; she turned and prepared to leave for her own room.
Lloyd grabbed her wrist roughly from where he was lying on the bed. "Florina…" he breathed. "I want you…to stay…with me…tonight…" Without waiting for her response, he pulled her to him and enveloped her small frame in his arms. She, in spite of everything, did not draw back, but instead; lay serenely in his embrace, breathing rhythmically against his chest.
Pressing his lips to hers, he licked the remaining sherry on her mouth affectionately, relishing the sweet, bitter taste.
In his drunken state of mind, Lloyd could not figure out her expression as he kissed her. But he fancied that she was smiling as he was at that moment.
Closing his eyes, he fell asleep holding tightly to her, enshrouded by the fresh lavender scent of her skin and hair, feeling the silk of her clothes brushing against his flesh.
Chapter 2 Uppppp!!
Woooohoooo!!Yay!
How is it?
I know some people think it is suggestive but no, Lloyd and Florina did not do anything indecent. Lloyd is not legault or Sain or some other random Black Fanger.
And yes, it is a tragedy, just that Lloyd hasn't died yet. But I am already counting his days.
Sorry this chapter is kind of short.
Read and Review!
I'll try to complete the third chapter soon. Maybe four days.
And no, third chapter, Lloyd does not die.
Lloyd shall die soon nevertheless...
Teehee...