A/n: I actually thought this chapter out....a little. O_O
Warning: Yaoi. Slash. Spoilers.
Disclaimer: I do not own Cantarella. I'm one of those little freaks that are desperately waiting for volume 11. ._.;; I WANTS IT. DX
Chapter 3: Angel
Time passed by minutes.
Time passed by hours.
Time passed by days.
Time passed by nights.
Time passed by weeks.
Time passed by months.
The basic gist was that time had passed. And with passing time came healing wounds. Physical ones at least. Soon, bandages had been unwrapped, uncovering scarred skin. Bones had been mended and movement was instilled in him.
Chiaro sighed. He had been confined in the properties of his room for days. It was hard for him to walk once more among others. He still had days to go before he could, once again, stand on his own. Before he could, once again, run with the wind. Before he could, once again, grasp objects.
Before he could, once again, serve Cesare.
He sighed, turning his head to the left so he could peer out the window. He reveled in the fact that it didn't hurt anymore when he moved. He closed his eyes and listened to the birds that chirped on their branches, singing songs in words that humans could never understand. He listened to the chatter of people that walked by the room door and of the people that walked outside. He listened to the clanging of swords as they clashed during training, listening to the grunting that followed as well. He turned his head and listened as the door opened and voices drifted through it's opening, words muffled by distance and words forced to murmur. He listened as the door closed quietly and to the soft tapping of shoes. He opened his eyes and let them absorb the site of dark brown locks framing a pale jawline is waves. Red lips stood out under a thin nose which bridged to lips from the dark orbs known as eyes.
And with the sun flowing through the curtain and shining onto the man he saw before him, Chiaro swore, albeit briefly, that an angel had come for him. An angel of death. Titled for the poisonous blood that coursed through his body!
But no. This was no angel of death. It was an angel, alright. An angel in his eyes as well as the populace that surrounded them. But this angel sinned knowingly and continued doing so. Things that angels were not meant to do. Things that angels were never fathomed to have done. Things that angels would never have done in their minds. But as Chiaro blinked and continued to stare as the angel before him came closer, he realized that those beliefs were all wrong. The person— this ANGEL before him showed him otherwise.
He watched as his angel, his dark demonic angel known as Cesare, came closer and kneeled beside him. He felt warmth spread through his body as long fingers entangled themselves into his blond locks. And he smiled when his fingers caressed Cesare's chin and brought a wide angelic smile that could awaken the dead in a matter of seconds. He felt his heart ache as Cesare dug his cheek deeper into his palm and as those before mentioned fingers gripped at his hair.
"Cesare...come closer..." he demanded, his voice cracked and shallow from the lack of use.
He had, after all, been locked and confined in this room for months now. The only person Cesare would allow to communicate with the blond was the medic, on those occasions where his wounds needed a checking, and Cesare himself. He wasn't allowed to leave the room. Not like he could at first, but when he became able again, guards had been posted at his door and kept watch. He felt saddened at the loss of communication and freedom, but it would be forgotten once his guilt set in when Cesare would visit him. His dark eyes looking like broken glass and his lips quivering with unmentioned pain.
And ever since he became able again, Cesare wouldn't even sit on his bedside.
Chiaro would question him on that, he missed the physical affection Cesare showed him. Even if it was a little over the line, it was the most human contact he would get for ages. But Cesare would brush him off and stand up, asking over his shoulder of he needed anything. After this constant act of ask-and-ignore, Chiaro had just given up. Cesare was acting childishly and they both knew it. Cesare just wouldn't admit to it.
Chiaro watched in anticipation as Cesare pondered whether he should get closer to the blond. Chiaro let his fingers trace Cesare's jawline as he waited for the brunette's answer. Finally determining himself to resist any temptation he would get if when he got near Chiaro, Cesare lifted himself closer to Chiaro, placing his hands palm down against the mattress, inches away from Chiaro's chest. He felt disappointed, slightly, as Chiaro's fingers were forced to slide down his face and descend onto his side. Chiaro's fingers moved until they reached Cesare's carefully propped hands.
He wrapped his fingers around the thin pale wrist and lifted it enough so his fingers could crawl underneath, his nails poking at the soft flesh of palm before doing so successfully. Cesare's body tensed and froze as Chiaro forced their fingers to entwine, making Cesare's body angle lopsidedly. Chiaro's green eyes bore into the dark purple of Cesare's own eyes, locking him in a gaze. Utilizing this opportunity of Cesare letting his guard down, he jerked his hand, the one entwined with Cesare's and pulled the brunette's body on top of him. He grunted unfavorably at the impact as Cesare's elbow was jabbed into his hip but quickly used this moment of shock to pull him closer.
He wrapped his arms around Cesare's waist as best as he could and tugged pitifully, trying to pull him up with strength lost from months of laying in bed. He was jerked forward slightly when the brunette tried to spring up and get as far away from the blond as possible. His guard finally back up and his mind letting out a stream of curses at himself. Chiaro was reluctant to let go of Cesare, as the brunette stumbled backwards. His hands covered his face as he backed up into a wall and felt his knees buck together under him. Chiaro grabbed at air, wanting to reach to the brunette that seemed to be plagued with pain.
"Please...Hold me...Let me...hold you...!" Chiaro pleaded, his voice cracking as he felt a clench at his heart.
He wanted this. He wanted the brunette to be closer. He knew that if the brunette was closer, than those clustered of black of leave him. Even if temporarily, it would do the brunette good to be close to him. He bit his bottom lip and let his pain be expressed in his eyes. He could see them, those black clusters were clinging to Cesare. They whispered omens and horrible deeds, tugging at the brunette's conscience and taunting him to betray his own morals and rationality. Chiaro wanted them gone.
Throwing the covers to the side, he pushed himself up so he could sit up with his feet touching the ground. Forcing himself onto two feet, he stumbled and used his opened arms to help balance himself. But alas, luck wasn't with him at that moment him as he lost balance and fell to the ground. Grunting, he knew he couldn't get back up and decided to crawl. And so he did, choosing to believe that that was his only choice. He crawled. He crawled and locked eyes with Cesare's dark ones, gritting his teeth at the pain he saw etched into them. Horror was themed on his angelic features and Chiaro decided he hated that as well.
Getting close enough so his outstretched hand would make contact with Cesare's knee, he grabbed it. He grinned, more to himself than to anyone else, as he watched the black demons that clung to that area immediately disperse. The black clusters seemed to have clung even closer to Cesare and he felt his anger and dislike grow stronger. He didn't want anything to touch Cesare, his angel should only be touched by purity, not the damned! Crawling as fast as he could, he finally got close enough to hoist himself onto his knees in front of Cesare.
Grabbing his wrists, Chiaro forcefully pulled Cesare's arms away from his face, marveling at how little strength the brunette had put into covering himself. Was his guard let down that much? Chiaro didn't ponder that and decided to disregard it completely, finding the need to hold Cesare closer an action that was needed to be done. Pushing himself forward, he let his body cover Cesare's and wrapped his arms around the ex-cardinal's neck, digging his face into his silky brown locks.
"No...Please...If you...I'll do some—Chiaro!" Cesare whined, trying to push the blond away.
"Hush, calm...down. Let me...hold you", Chiaro demanded, stroking his hair, "I...want to."
Chiaro reveled in the feeling of Cesare's limbs fighting less and less until it eventually stopped. Fingers dug into the rich fabric of his clothes, clinging to him like the black demons on Cesare. He smiled to himself as he felt the whimpers from the brunette, admitting defeat by pouting.
"I want to...So let me...Cesare", Chiaro mumbled, pulling the brunette closer.
"Chiaro!" Cesare whined, clinging to him, "Why? Why? After what I--?!"
"Shhh, that's...the past," Chiaro answered, one of his hands wondering low enough to stroke the brunette's back.
"But...why?!" Cesare exclaimed, not understanding.
"I...deserved it. I'm the betrayer...afterall."
"I...Chiaro..." Cesare moaned, digging his face into the blond's chest.
"Shhh....I'm right...here...." Chiaro mumbled, "...Right here...Cesare..."
A/n: Ignore the crappiness. I think I BS'd half of this. XD This whole fic is fluff by the way. It shall get a little serious, but not much. ;D
Un-edited. Check later!