Disclaimer: Don't own it

A/N: Once more, thankyou to those who reviewed! So here I am again, submitting a chapter that's made me want to hit myself very hard several times. It's longer than the other ones, so please persist and read to the end! I'm not fantastically happy with it, but you know, what can you do.

The chapter's name is from the song "Delicate" by Damien Rice (Fantabulous song, btw), chosen because I think it fits the chapter's tone. (??? I have no idea what I'm talking about. Just listen to it, ok?)

Anyway, Enjoy!

And then there was nothing but darkness. That wonderful, comforting, welcoming darkness that enveloped her whenever she was fortunate enough to sleep…or in this case, to faint. But before it overtook her, before the blackness could grasp a sure hold on her, she saw something else that was also strikingly familiar…

An intense and beautiful blue light.

She closed her eyes to it. Merely a dream, she thought as she felt its aqueous texture upon her skin. She shuddered as the familiarity of its touch overwhelmed her. It was exactly as she remembered; a caress of remarkably pure silk, an illusion of water sliding over her skin, seducing her, willing her to enter some kind of trance. Only a dream, she persisted as she felt herself slipping further and further into the inevitable oblivion.

Don't…

Her thoughts broke through the darkness just before she surrendered to it.

Don't leave me, Van.

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The soft click of a nearby door closing caused Hitomi to stir from the unsettling dream she'd been having. Groaning inwardly, she realised that it was yet another one she must record in the dream log she had been forced to complete. She had always found it impossible to describe each ordeal, most of them being too painful to try and remember, some simply being too bizarre to think about logically, having been filled with intense and sometimes frightening images even she didn't always understand. Bringing a rather unresponsive arm up to cover her eyes, she attempted to recall the nightmare, her thoughts settling upon the fact that it had surely been one of the worst she had experienced in quite a while.

Letting out a small discontented sigh and with eyes still firmly shut, she turned over on her side and buried her face into her pillow in hopes she would somehow fall back into a dreamless slumber. But upon inhaling the scent of her clean sheets, she was somewhat intrigued to find that the aroma was not what she had expected. This pillow, also much softer than she remembered her own being, did not smell of the sickly, hospital like detergent she was so used to. In fact, after a moment's contemplation, she came to the conclusion that it smelt strangely of… summer. It somehow reminded her of being out in the open, fresh air; of a gentle breeze flowing through a green field flooded with sunshi—

Actually, come to think of it, it reminded her of…

Her eyes shot open.

No…

It wasn't her pillow.

No!

It wasn't her bed.

This isn't happening…

It wasn't even her room.

I can't be—

And after sitting up hastily, scanning her surroundings in barely contained panic, she realised that she was not alone.

On the balcony a few metres away, stood a man, tall and muscular in build. He faced away from her, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking out to the setting sun, his tousled locks of unruly jet black hair moving slightly with the wind. He wore clothes Hitomi had never really seen before, atleast not in this century; a black, sleeveless jacket with a high, stiff collar, completely unbuttoned at the front to reveal a loose white shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His trousers were black too, and quite tight fitting, clearly highlighting the toned muscle that undoubtedly lay beneath; his boots, made from soft black leather as far as she could see, came up to a little below his knees. He intimidated her, even as he stood casually unaware of her awakened state, still as stone as the sunset cast an amber glow over his majestic figure.

She realised almost immediately that she didn't even need to see his face to know who he was. And Gods, in the light of the setting sun, Van looked every part the King he had been destined to become.

Hitomi swallowed as she saw him tilt his head back and close his eyes, breathing deeply as he brooded upon some unknown subject. She really didn't know whether to inform him she was awake or simply continue to watch him in silence, taking in everything she could about the man who, up until a few minutes ago, had been a distant memory from a dream.

Perhaps she was still dreaming, she mused. Perhaps she hadn't returned to Gaea at all. Perhaps she was still in her stuffy little room, making up stories in her messed up little head…

But, She supposed, there is only one way to find out.

As Van lowered his head, looking out to the sunset once more, Hitomi silently, slowly, unsteadily moved the thin quilted cover off her body. After a moment, gauging whether he had noticed her movements, she swung her legs gently round to the edge of the bed and winced a little as she felt the cold, wooden floor underneath her toes. Taking a deep breath, she stood up a little too quickly, grabbing onto a nearby bedpost for support as she was lost momentarily in a dizzying head rush. It wasn't until she looked down at the floor that she realised her legs were trembling.

"You really shouldn't try to get up."

The deep, unmistakable sound of his voice made her eyes widen. Keeping her gaze fixed on the floor, she cursed herself mentally, realising that she had perhaps been a little foolish in thinking he wouldn't notice her, considering how wondrously unsubtle she was.

"Although, since when have you ever listened to any advice I've given you?"

There it was again. That voice. His voice. She could tell he was smiling, silently amused by his own comment. To her surprise, Hitomi was somewhat shocked to realise she was suddenly remarkably short of breath. After inhaling slowly, deeply, in an attempt to calm her nerves, she raised her head.

"And since when have you ever given me any worthwhile advice, V—"

Oh Gods…

As their eyes met, she found she couldn't bring herself to say his name. She found she could barely think, barely breathe. He had turned his head to where she stood, his eyes holding hers unquestioningly. She found herself lost in their darkness at once, willingly surrendering to their alluring, intense, piercing gaze. He was staring at her, watching her as she just…looked at him.

"—V-Van…"

And for a long, agonising moment, Hitomi could have sworn time had stopped. She could have sworn that the world around them, the whole of Gaea, was silent. There was nobody else, nothing. Only them.

It was in that moment that she really took him in, took in everything from the familiar, charmingly overgrown black hair that hung low on his forehead, to the hard, matured angles of his face. He had changed, she noticed, but in remarkably subtle and…intriguing ways. She wanted to close the space between them, go to him, ask him how he'd been and what he'd been doing all this time; but something stopped her. All the times she had imagined it, imagined their meeting after five years of being apart…had been so different. Every scenario she had created had just been so…so wrong.

The images she had conjured up of running into his arms and telling him how much she had missed him seemed all of a sudden ridiculous and inappropriate. The notion of such an unimaginative reunion seemed almost childish compared to the wordless, heated gaze that existed between them at this moment. She found that she didn't want it to end…she just…

"Hitomi…"

Her name on his lips was enough to send a little tremor through her weary body. It had been barely more than a whisper, the deep timbre of his voice simply gracing the breeze that had moved through the room, but it had been more than enough. It had been too much. Unconsciously, she squeezed the bedpost next to her a little tighter.

"H…How did I…" she stammered, finally averting her eyes from his in order to look around the room. It was a very large room, she noticed, the bed alone being big enough to fit seven people quite comfortably on its surface. The wooden floor was mostly covered in rugs and furs, and the fireplace cast an orangey glow over every single object in the surrounding space. There was a desk in one corner, covered in disorganised letters, maps and other various papers, as well as, Hitomi noticed, a shirt or two. A hauntingly familiar sword rested against one side of it, firelight bouncing off its polished scabbard.

I'm in his room…?

Taking her hand from the bed post, Hitomi let her arm fall limply to her side. "How did this…?" She found she was pretty much lost for words, not quite sure of why she'd started to talk in the first place. There was usually something about silence that she found unbearable, but with Van it was oddly…comforting. She hadn't really wished to spoil it, but there was an obvious question she needed to ask, no matter how much of the answer she thought she already knew. Eventually, she swallowed, deciding that it was perhaps best to get right to the point.

"W-Why am I here, Van?"

A small, sad laugh reached her ears, causing her to look over to him again, only to find his gaze redirected towards the sunset. A brief, pained smile passed over his lips.

"I was hoping you could tell me."

Hitomi blinked.

"You were hoping…what are you talking about?" She took a small step towards him, "I thought you…I mean, I thought it was you who called me back here…isn't that what—"

She stopped herself abruptly.

Isn't that what you wanted?

"—isn't that what…happened?"

Hitomi swallowed as he turned to face her fully, taking his weight from the doorframe. She hadn't realised quite how tall he was, how with his regal stature, athletic physique and dark clothes he seemed threatening and…dangerous. As he took a few steps towards her, she almost felt compelled to shrink back under the covers of the overly large bed.

Van slowly, silently closed the space between them, his steady gaze never wavering, the blood-red pendant at his neck glowing eerily in the firelight. He came to a halt right in front of her, so he had to look down in order to hold her wide, questioning eyes.

"I think," He said quietly after a moment, his voice suddenly filled with a distant, unforgettable coldness, "you should stop pretending you don't know."

Hitomi couldn't do anything but stare incredulously up at him for a few, prolonged seconds.

"What?" She managed to get out, although it was more of a choking sound than anything else. Van's eyes narrowed.

"Don't."

Hitomi shook her head slightly, her brow creased in confusion. "But I don't underst—"

She flinched when Van gripped her shoulders hard.

"You tried to kill yourself." His voice was tainted with something close to disgust as he spoke slowly and clearly down to her. "You gave up, gave in – you attempted to end your own life."

"I—"

"And don't tell me that you don't understand, Hitomi! What is there to understand?!"

"But I—"

And that was when it all came flooding back.

Oh Gods.

Why can't I just be wrong?— I can't wish. Not anymore— Perhaps for him, it was a dream— the doubt that eats away at me—this emptiness that I feel— I wonder how he is, whether he even remembers me— now all that's left— I cannot bear it any longer—

"Goodbye"

She felt very weak all of a sudden, as if she wasn't quite in control of her own body. Her lungs protested as she tried to draw breath, painful memories coming in relentless sweeps, bringing tears to her disbelieving eyes and an intense coldness to every part of her body. She couldn't see Van anymore, only the images that ran insistently through her mind.

That piece of paper, the pills…she could barely believe she had come so close to doing something so stupid. But she had…

…because of him.

Tired…I'm just…so tired…of everything…

Her eyes closed of their own accord.

And then the darkness came again, embracing her with the two strong arms that cradled her lifeless form.

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It was hardly a shock when Hitomi woke up for the second time that day in a dauntingly huge bed, although she wasn't quite sure how she'd somehow ended up back under the covers. It was the same one, she realised, that she'd been in before, meaning she must still be in Van's room.

Van…

Sitting up slowly, she was somewhat relieved to find that he was no longer present. She didn't want to deal with him now, not after she'd seen how…frustrated he'd become earlier. That look in his eyes had been so full of…pain. Gods, he'd just seemed so angry at her. So cold and…

A small, strangely nostalgic smile came to her lips at that. How wonderfully depressing, she mused, that Van's attitude towards her hadn't changed a bit since the first time they'd met.

Sighing, Hitomi swung her legs round to the edge of the bed and leant forward on her elbows. Night had fallen now, the moon and the Earth sending a stunning, ghostly light through the open balcony doors. The fire had all but gone out, with only a few dimly glowing coals to warm the cold air. She rubbed her bare arms with her hands, wishing that she'd somehow come here in more than a t-shirt and a denim skirt that was a little too short.

After fighting the temptation to get back into the inviting bed, she stood, stretching her arms above her head as she began to walk over to the fireplace. Glancing to the open glass doors several feet away, she realised it perhaps might have been a better idea to close them first; although now she was getting considerably warmer, she found she couldn't bring herself away from the hearth.

Hitomi sat down on the soft rug in front of the fire, bringing her knees up and hooking her elbows round them. She frowned as she realised that the coals were growing dimmer.

Deciding to ignore the fact that she'd probably have to get up again soon, she hugged her arms tighter around herself.

Gods, what a day.

In the five years she'd been away from here, she hadn't once imagined her return to be so...surreal.

And Van…she hadn't imagined him…

…like that.

He had looked so darkly handsome, like some shadowed hero from a romance novel. She had always imagined him still wearing his red sleeveless shirt with those beige trousers and brown boots, always remembered him as the lanky fifteen year old she'd met all those years ago. But the fact was: he wasn't that naïve teenager anymore. When he'd looked at her, she had seen knowledge behind his intelligent eyes, had felt some kind of wisdom in his arresting presence. She blushed a little as she realised her fascination must have been blindingly obvious.

A particularly strong gust of icy wind abruptly roused her from thoughts of him, and she muttered angrily as she forced herself to stand up. Walking briskly over to the panelled glass doors, she took hold of one of the handles and attempted to close it, only to find that it wouldn't budge. Scowling as another bout of shivers ran through her, she nudged it ferociously a few times.

"Ugh!!" She shouted, throwing her hands up in exasperation, "What the hell is wrong with this door!?"

"There's a latch at the bottom."

Hitomi jumped at Van's faintly amused tone. Turning to face him, she noted the roguish smile that curled one corner of his lips in the dim light. Her cheeks heated immediately, and she was appalled to see the smile widen before she hastily spun back round to undo the bolt at the bottom of the door.

"I thought you'd still be sleeping." She heard him walk towards her, "I was just coming in to get some notes." He appeared beside her then, and it took her a second to realise he was closing the other door for her.

"Oh…" She said quietly, glancing over as he bent to undo the latch, "you're working late…"

He raised his eyebrows and looked at her briefly before standing up to shut the door.

"This is early for me."

Hitomi blinked. "Oh right…" She looked down at her hands in an attempt to tear her eyes away from his lips, on which the ghost of a smile still lingered. She was perturbed to find she was trembling. Turning round quickly, she strode over to the fireplace again and thrust her hands before the grate.

Van turned around, but didn't follow her. She felt his gaze on her as she closed her eyes and let out a small sigh. Time for her small-talk skills to shine, she thought wryly.

"So how—"

"I'm sorry for my behaviour earlier."

Hitomi smiled a little and shook her head at his apology.

"It's ok." She said gently, "really."

She heard his exasperated sigh from the other side of the room. "No, it's not ok." He said roughly, "I shouldn't have…shouted at you like that." He looked away from her, running a hand through his thoroughly dishevelled hair.

Hitomi didn't say anything. She didn't see what point there was in denying she'd been upset by the way he'd talked to her earlier. He'd been so angry, so tense and…frightening. She looked into the dying embers of the fire.

"There's nothing either of us can do about it now." She said quietly, "there's no point dwelling on something we can't change, Van."

The deeper meaning of what she'd said suddenly struck her, causing her breath to catch in her throat at the realisation. Turning quickly to face the dark, brooding man on the other side of the room, she saw that he must have understood too, for his eyes suddenly held something different; some sort of suppressed emotion that she couldn't quite read.

And finally she knew it was time to ask.

At length, she began.

"Why didn't you try, Van?" The words seemed to leave her before she could stop them, a whisper that must have barely reached him. Lowering her gaze to the floor, she walked to where he stood. "Didn't you…didn't—" She bit her lip as she felt the familiar sting of tears behind her eyes.

I will not cry in front of him.

Her head shot up quickly.

"Didn't you even care?!"

She watched his face intently for any signs of an answer, but was somewhat confused when his eyes simply narrowed.

"What did you say?" The coldness in his dangerously quiet voice surprised her.

She stared incredulously up at him for a moment. "You forgot about me, Van." She shook her head from side, her brow creased in disbelief and…anger. "You just…left me there, alone!" Her voice was louder now, her hands fisting in front of her chest. "You promised Van, you promised! And yet you…you just—!"

"If I were you, I would stop now." His tone was filled with dark warning, his eyes with something dangerous, something she recognised even after all these years of being apart.

But she didn't care; she didn't care if he shouted at her again.

"You didn't even try, did you Van?! You never—"

All the air left her lungs in one swift exhale as she was pushed roughly up against a panelled wall. Six furious feet of male held her firmly in place as her head swam.

"Wha—"

"How dare you!" Van's face loomed over hers in the darkness, "How can you even…even suggest something like that?!"

"But I—"

"You don't know anything Hitomi, anything!" His breath was hot on her skin as he held her firmly, and was the only sound to be heard in the otherwise silent room. The anger in his voice was somehow also suffused with pain, the sheer frustration and bitterness of his tone causing her to attempt to shrink partly away from him.

"You don't know," He continued when she tried to say something else, "how many times I tried!"

"V-Van—"

"How many times I had to hear you telling yourself I wasn't real…that I was some…some dream!"

She blinked.

"You could hear me?!" Eyes wide in renewed panic, she hastily tried to recall every memory, every image she had conjured up of him over the years, hoping with all her heart that the answer would be no – it must be no! How was it even possible?

It took a moment for him to reply.

"Yes," he murmured eventually, his grip on her loosening before he relinquished it altogether. Obviously agitated, he abruptly turned from her, running a hand through his wonderfully rebellious hair. "I've been able to hear everything for the past five years, Hitomi."

Her eyes followed him as he walked to the fireplace.

"But…" She breathed, not really knowing what she wanted to say. It had never even crossed her mind that he might be able to hear her thoughts, even if she couldn't hear his own. The weight of realisation seemed to crush her, and she leant back against the wall for support. "…h-how?"

Van glanced at her briefly before looking back into the smouldering embers. His expression softened as he seemed to think of the right words.

"Because you didn't believe in yourself," He said after a tense moment, his tone more gentle than before, "You didn't trust in your own story." A small, melancholic smile drifted over his face as he turned to face her, carefully avoiding her eyes.

"And you didn't trust in me." He added finally, his voice low and soft, and brought his gaze up to hers.

It took Hitomi a few, lengthy seconds to understand.

And then the gravity of comprehension made her head spin.

All this time…it was…

Me.

She must have swooned again, because before she knew what was happening, she had been caught in the firm embrace of two protective arms. His arms.

"I…" She said helplessly, her vision clouding with the tears that started to fall, "I'm so…" She choked and clutched a handful of his shirt at the front, "…Van, I'm so—" But she was overcome, too filled with sorrow and frustration to say anything that might be considered enough. Her other hand fisted another clump of his shirt, and she gripped onto him desperately as he held her.

She looked down, ashamed, as she wept quietly. The mere fact he continued to hold her was almost too much to bear. She felt furious with herself, and yet he, someone she had let down, blamed wrongly for years, someone who had heard every doubt, every needless fear she had possessed, was holding her as if she were a frightened child.

Needless to say, she felt like one.

"Don't cry…" His compassionate whisper made her flinch.

She could only shake her head in misery, biting her lip to keep from sobbing audibly. She'd been such a fool; so blind to something so obvious. All this time…all this time and she'd been the one that was destroying herself. It hadn't been Van, or her parents or even them. Her own imprudence was intolerable.

"I've been so stupid," She whispered, closing her eyes.

"Not stupid, just wrong."

She opened them again, avoiding his gaze and letting out a disbelieving, sardonic laugh, "Well doesn't being wrong about everything make me stupid?"

"Hitomi…"

"Doesn't repeatedly telling myself that you were a dream, that you and everyone else were all just some figment of my imagination, make me more than wrong?" Fresh tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, "Every night just…waiting to hear your voice, every day wishing to go back to you…and then not even believing it was possible—"

"Hitomi—" He tried to interrupt again.

"And convincing myself that it was all because you didn't care! That it was because you didn't…because you didn't—"

Van silenced her with the gentle touch of his fingers on her lips. Her eyes were drawn to his as she saw him shake his head slowly.

"Stop." He breathed.

She swallowed as she noted his pained expression, and the anguish so visible in his eyes. His brow was creased, his gaze hot and intense, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Hitomi was suddenly very aware of his arm around her waist and his face mere inches from her own. She still clung onto his shirt, though her grip had relaxed partly, and their bodies were close, touching here and there.

She gasped softly as he drew his fingers from her lips and ran them delicately over her flushed skin, brushing a falling tear from its path.

"Van…"

"I thought I was going to lose you." He murmured.

Her lips parted slightly as she drew an unsteady breath, and she saw his gaze flicker down to them briefly.

"I'm sorry." She said quietly, looking down at the floor, "I just—"

"Hitomi."

Tenderly, his fingers drifted under chin, tilting it up so she looked straight into his deep, dark eyes. She couldn't stop the little tremor that ran through her.

"Do you still want to forget?"

Her breath caught in her throat as she realised she knew what he was asking.

How does one forget what love is?

She swallowed thickly.

He heard.

"I…" She breathed, feeling flustered and hot under his gaze, "I-I—"

His lips brushed hers, sweet, light, delicate.

Her heart skipped a beat.

"Do you?" He breathed against her mouth.

And then he did it again; the same whisper-light caress of her lips, intoxicating in its simplicity, devastating in its effect. He set her senses afire in that one intimate touch; she could feel him, she clung desperately to his shirt still, clenching the fabric in her hands as she closed her eyes to sensation; she could smell that wonderful, unforgettable scent he had, of the earth after it rains in the spring, of sunshine bathing an open field.

But this time he didn't stop. This time he didn't move away. His hand moved behind her neck as he held her more firmly, his mouth beginning to move over hers. Hitomi responded helplessly to the slow exploration, tasting, turning her lips over his in return. Her mind couldn't seem to hold onto one coherent thought, all reason escaping her as she lost herself in the moment. One of her hands found its way to the back of his neck, and she let her fingers tangle in the soft, slightly curly hairs she found there.

She felt him tense immediately at the touch, and was about to withdraw the offending hand when suddenly his mouth became more insistent on hers, his arm tightening around her waist, bringing their bodies closer together. She gasped in mild surprise, and then again as Van used the opportunity to explore her mouth further, the silken touch of his tongue making her head spin. She let out a little whimper then, surrendering to him fully as her hand fisted in his thick hair.

But it was over all too soon, and he pulled back after too few rapturous moments had passed. His breaths came hot and fast on her skin, and she opened her eyes to see his face cast in an unreadable expression. She was breathing heavily too, and her lips felt swollen and hot as she put her fingers to them.

No, Van. I don't want to forget anymore.

Aaaaaaaah!

Hope you enjoyed it, please review :D