A/N: Hello my dear readers! I felt pretty bad for leaving you all with that cliffhanger from last chapter. I didn't want to leave you hanging for too long. So here is the next part!
As always, all comments will be greatly appreciated!
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8-8-8-8-8
Chapter 7: Realizations
8-8-8-8-8
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Bulma was sure that she had never before, in her entire life, driven this fast.
She blew through three stop lights before she realized that she should slow down, lest she herself get into an accident.
She was still wearing the rumpled clothes she had worn to bed the night before, and she was sure that she looked absolutely disastrous, but she didn't care.
Vegeta was injured.
She needed to see him.
Her GPS told her that she was almost there.
About ten minutes away from the hospital, she came upon a traffic diversion at an intersection, and she anxiously peeked around the the large towing truck that was blocking the way. It was pulling out a vehicle that had been in a road traffic accident, apparently the second one as another large blue pickup truck with a dented front bumper had already been pulled to the side of the road.
Her breath lodged in her throat, her blood turning to ice in her veins when she finally caught a look at the very familiar, pearl white SUV being hauled away.
Vegeta's car.
She couldn't possibly be wrong.
It was Vegeta's car.
She didn't even need to check the plate number, as the shiny paint job and the plush seats that she knew all too well were a dead giveaway.
He had been in a car accident.
When Goku had called, he didn't know the circumstances around Vegeta's injuries, only that he was bleeding and was about to be admitted into surgery.
Her mouth went dry as her eyes stayed glued to the car, noting the badly ruined door to the driver's side. The window was smashed in, and by the looks of it, the blue pickup truck had crashed head-on into the driver's side… where Vegeta had been.
She stopped her engine, uncaring if she was in the middle of the road, and hopped off her car to run to the tow truck, jumping up to catch the driver's attention.
"Hey lady, what the hell?!" the driver, a very scruffy man about twice her age, shouted angrily at her as she waved her hands around to catch his attention.
"Please! Please, I know this car! The owner is my…"
She trailed off for a moment as she hesitated on what to call Vegeta.
Her boss? Her lover?
Bulma steeled herself as she continued.
"The owner is the man that I love. I need to know… did you see him? Is he gonna be alright?"
The tow truck driver deflated at her earnest words, turning the engine off as he responded.
"I got here to pull that other car," he gestured to the blue van, "away from this car. They already had the guy out on a stretcher, and the blue truck's driver was being led into a police car. I think he was high or something."
Bulma nodded, her gaze straying to Vegeta's ruined car once more.
"Now the guy who was driving this white car, he was bleeding," he continued, pulling Bulma's gaze back to him, "but I've seen lots of wrecks, and from my experience, this guy, it's not that bad, kid. Your man is gonna be fine."
She released the breath she hadn't known she was holding as relief washed over her.
He was going to be fine.
"Of course, he's bound to be in a hell of a lot of pain," the man mused, "so you should go. They brought him to South-West, but I'm sure you knew that already."
Bulma nodded, smiling at the man. "Yes, I've been told. Thank you so much, and I'm sorry for bothering you mister," she glanced at his name badge "mister Yajirobe."
"No problem, kid. By the way, I think you dropped that."
She looked in the direction of Yajirobe's gaze, only to find a black smartphone on the ground. In the darkness, the phone was nearly invisible.
She picked it up, and immediately realized that it was Vegeta's phone. She recognized the thick armor-like phone case, and she absently recalled him saying that the manufacturer promised full impact-resistance.
She remembered telling him that, with as much as he drops or throws his phone, only a tank shell would be able to protect it.
Considering the current, nearly unscathed state of the phone within, she supposed the manufacturer was right. Vegeta would be happy to know that.
She held on to the phone as she made her way back to her car, placing it on the passenger seat beside her own phone, then raced in the direction of the hospital once again.
She parked her car, not bothering to check if the parking was even aligned, before she ran straight to the emergency room, her wallet and their phones in her hands.
She came upon the ER reception desk, looking around to try to find the familiar face of Goku's girlfriend.
She found the younger woman immediately, recognizing her by her very straight dark hair and large, dark eyes.
"Chichi? You're Chichi, right?" Bulma asked as she came up to the reception desk.
Chichi immediately stood to greet her. "Bulma-san! Yes, we'd been expecting you. Please," Chichi motioned to a short hallway to the right, leading into a small, slightly secluded area. "Go that way, to the waiting area. Goku-kun's already there."
"Chichi, how is Vegeta?" Bulma asked.
"He's in surgery now, but I've been told that he's gonna be fine. I'm not allowed to tell you any more than that, but please be assured that a doctor will come by soon to inform you of his status."
"Thank you," Bulma said, before she headed into the room that Chichi had indicated.
When she turned into the room, she found that it was an open area with an arched entryway but no door. Chairs lined three of the walls, and on one corner sat Goku, brows lowered while he chewed on his lip, staring distractedly at the low table in the very center of the room.
"Goku?" she called, making him suddenly perk up.
"Bulma! I'm so glad you made it!" he said as he stood, before he jogged up to her, wrapping her into a big bear hug.
Bulma hugged him back, biting back her tears as the empathy of the younger man made the worry and panic rise in her again, and all of her mixed emotions from the past week threatened to crush her with their force.
"Of course," she choked. "I… I need to be here, Goku. I need to make sure he's alright."
She felt his head bob as he nodded, before he released her and then led her to sit on one of the chairs. He took the items in her hands and laid them on the table.
"That doctor in the ER said that Vegeta wasn't critical. He's really roughed up, but he just looks worse than he actually is," Goku said, sitting beside her on the squeaky metal bench.
"So he'll be fine? Why is he in the OR then?"
"I think he's busted a bone," Bulma winced as Goku kept speaking, "But he wasn't unconscious or anything when they brought him in. He even recognized me. So I think he's gonna be alright."
"He recognized you?"
"Yeah. Even asked why I wasn't at school, I reminded him it's a Saturday."
Bulma chuckled. It was just like Vegeta, to inquire about something like that even in the middle of a medical emergency.
"And how about you? Are you alright?" Goku asked, glancing meaningfully at her obviously disheveled state.
Bulma glanced down at herself. She was wearing a comfy, worn black shirt and a pair of old blue track pants. She barely had time to slip a bra on before she rushed out the door, grabbing just her wallet, car keys and phone.
Her hand flew up to her chest, where the crescent necklace still rested against her throat.
She barked out a short, humorless laugh. "Sorry, I must look absolutely horrifying."
"Naw, it's ok! You don't look too bad," Goku grinned. "I can just imagine, if it had been me, and Chichi was in trouble, I'd probably run here naked or something."
Bulma's eyes widened at the insinuation. She opened her mouth to say something, but Goku just kept talking obliviously.
"If you love someone, you drop everything to be there for 'em, right?"
"Love?" she asked, astonished. As far as she knew, she had never behaved in any way at work to even hint that there was anything between her and Vegeta.
Goku looked confused. "Oh. Was it just Vegeta then?"
"Just Vegeta, what?" she asked.
"I didn't realize it was one-sided. Oh, poor Vegeta. I guess he never said anything to you, then."
She was really confused now.
She determined then, that she really loathed being confused.
"Goku, what are you talking about?" she asked more slowly.
"Bulma, he's crazy in love with you. Didn't you know?"
Bulma stared at him, her eyes wide in disbelief. "What? No he's not."
"Yeah he is!" Goku cried impatiently. "Raditz told me. He said that one time, about three months ago, he and Vegeta got drunk in the bar he used to work at and Vegeta told him."
She was beyond surprised at this revelation. That was one month before the office party that started everything. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah, I wouldn't kid about that," Goku said, a slight pout on his lips. "So I told Raditz you both look good together. Vegeta's been a lot nicer since you came to Ouji, ya know."
Bulma blinked. Vegeta wasn't nice. He was tolerable, at best. He used to be even worse?
"People were terrified of him. I think that's why the Sales Team is so good, coz one look from him and they'd go running. When Ouji-sama announced the step down, everyone panicked."
"But you joined us just as he became CEO," Goku went on, "And suddenly, he wasn't so scary anymore. He was smiling! He didn't throw people out of his office and make them cry. He stopped being so angry."
Bulma sat in stunned disbelief as Goku simply smiled at her.
"And," he said, "when I look at you together, I really think you both feel the same way for each other."
"Why do you think that, Goku?" she asked, eyes burning with tears at what this incredibly perceptive young man was saying.
Goku's eyes softened immeasurably, and he stared past her, out into the hallway, in the direction of the ER reception desk.
"Because," he said, a gentle smile on his face. "The way you look at him, is the same as the way Chichi looks at me. And Chichi… she loves me, just like I love her."
He turned back to her then, a brilliant smile on his face. "I'm gonna marry her someday!"
The tears slipped slowly down Bulma's cheeks, and she tried hard to keep a smile on her face, even as she began to sob.
And suddenly, all the adrenaline that pumped through her bloodstream from the moment Goku called her that night just drained away, leaving her exhausted, and so utterly devastated, that the sobs became louder, turning into body-wracking heaves that sent her curling in on herself.
Goku's hand was on her shoulder as she wept, all of the sadness and anguish of the past week twisting around the fear that she felt for Vegeta' safety.
She regretted every word she ever said, every action she ever made, that had hurt that poor man whose only fault was to try to get close to her heart.
She was such a wretch.
She didn't know how, but she found herself sobbing into Goku's chest, loud wails of guilt and self-loathing peppered with the whimpers of her anxiety and pain.
"Goku! Goku, I love him," she cried. "I love him so much. And I've hurt him so badly. I don't – I don't know what to do!"
Goku's hand on her kept soothing her, patting and stroking gently across her back.
"What if he dies, Goku? It won't be fair… he's such an amazing person and he deserves more than this!" she wailed. "I don't deserve him. He deserves to have a woman who's better than me!"
The words tumbled uncontrollably from her lips, and she couldn't stop talking, couldn't stop crying.
"He's made me so happy. And I never told him. He'll never know! And I can't – I can't lose him. I need him! I need him and I need to tell him!"
He remained silent as she kept crying, until her sobs slowly began to subside and her chest was painful from her worry and heartache.
"Oh don't worry, Bulma," he said. "He's gonna be fine. He even asked for you while they were taking him to OR."
"Really?" she asked, reduced to one-word answers by her hiccups and sniffles.
"Yeah. I told you he was conscious, but he was a bit out of it. He was all, Oi why aren't you in school, then he was all Kakarot where's Bulma, call Bulma," Goku said, deepening his voice to mimic Vegeta's deeper baritone.
A small laugh bubbled up from her chest, her heart swelling with her fondness for Vegeta.
"Hey see, that's better! Keep smiling, Bulma," the spiky-haired teen said. "Now what do you say we take a nap until the doctors come? It shouldn't be long now. Honestly, I'm tired."
Both leaned back and made themselves as comfortable as possible on the hard metal chairs.
Bulma had no idea how long she had been asleep, but she was sure that it hadn't been very long until she woke from the strain on her back
God damn but these waiting room chairs are uncomfortable.
She realized that Goku was gone from her side, and she guessed that he had probably gone to Chichi while she was asleep.
However, she felt another presence somewhere off to her left, and she turned her head…
Only to find a blurry image of a man with dark, flame-shaped hair.
"Vegeta?" she asked, rubbing her still sleepy eyes. She must be seeing things. This was a hallucination!
The hallucination however, chuckled low, and she sat up, shocked.
"What…?"
"I am a Vegeta, but perhaps not the one you were hoping to see, Bulma-san."
She finally opened her eyes fully, and realized that the man sitting a few feet away from her now was the older Vegeta, Ouji-sama.
"Ouji-sama," she greeted, consciously raising a hand to her chest, embarrassed at how messy she looked. "I apologize for my appearance. I didn't have the time to change-"
"That is fine, Bulma-san. I understand," he said, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips.
He looked so much like her Vegeta that it hurt.
"How have you been, Bulma-san?"
"I… I'm fine sir," she said. "If I may ask, how long have you been here?"
"About half an hour. When I arrived, that lady at the front desk told me that Vegeta was still in surgery."
"Oh…" she sighed. She had been hoping that Vegeta would be alright, by now. "Did the hospital call you?"
"Yes, as my son's next of kin in his emergency contact list. I have also called Tarble, but he and Gure are in East City and will not make it here til morning."
Bulma glanced at Vegeta's phone on the table. "Sorry it didn't occur to me to call you. I have Vegeta's phone…"
"It's probably password-protected anyway, Bulma-san," he answered with a low laugh.
Bulma smiled. "How have you been, Ouji-sama?"
"Oh, quite well. Retirement is rather enjoyable, though I do miss the mayhem at work," he grinned.
However, the grin began to slowly melt into a frown as he looked at her, and Bulma realized that he must have been observing her closely, all along.
"You, however," he said, "are clearly not as fine as you claimed. You look very pale, Bulma-san. You also look very tired."
She forced a smile as she answered. "I am just very worried about Vegeta, Ouji-san."
It was as his frown turned into something more amused that she realized her mistake.
She had been calling him Vegeta in front of his father.
She scrambled to think of something else to say, but he suddenly looked at something over her shoulder before he abruptly stood up.
Bulma turned, only to also stand up straight as she saw a tall man in a white lab coat standing at the entryway.
He was holding a clipboard, and was wearing a green hair cover over his head. Under his lab coat was a white uniform, and he was looking over at her and Ouji-sama.
It was the doctor that they had been waiting for.
Her breath lodged painfully in her throat, her heart pounding a harsh and heavy rhythm against her chest. She was anxious as she waited for him to speak, desperate to find out how Vegeta was doing.
She was so terrified that any words she may have had just froze in her throat, but Ouji-sama spoke up beside her.
"Are you my son's doctor? Vegeta Ouji, he was in surgery."
"Yes, I am. I am Dr. Piccolo," the doctor responded, holding out a hand to Ouji-sama, and nodding lightly at Bulma.
"I suppose you are Ouji Vegeta Sr?" he paused as Ouji-sama nodded, before he turned his narrow eyes to Bulma.
"And you must be Bulma-san?"
Bulma nodded, thinking that Chichi must have briefed the doctor regarding who was in the waiting room.
The doctor's amused smirk was unexpected.
"Bulma-san, I would advise you to see Ouji-san as soon as he wakes."
What?
"I have come to inform you both regarding the patient's condition. He was not critically injured, as you already know, but he did suffer from injuries that required immediate surgery."
Both Bulma and Ouji-sama breathed small sighs of relief.
The doctor continued. "He sustained a very shallow head injury. We had to give him some stitches near his left temple. He had been bleeding, but no concussions or any other complications. His most severe injury was a fracture on his left ulna. We implanted an ORIF – an internal fixator – but he will definitely regain full use of that arm within a couple of months. He is unconscious now as we had given him some narcotics to help with his pain."
Bulma couldn't help the tears of relief that began to flow down her cheeks.
Vegeta was alive! He was going to be alright!
Her hand flew up to clutch at her necklace, her knees buckling slightly.
"Were there any problems during surgery, doctor? He was in there for a few hours," asked Ouji-sama.
"He was in the Recovery Room for quite a while," Dr. Piccolo said with a smile. "He was under observation because he was very quiet but his BP was very high. We later realized that he had been in severe pain but was refusing to let it show."
Bulma laughed, a hoarse bark borne of her relief.
"That is really just like him… acting macho even when in pain," she thought fondly.
"When can we see him, doctor?" Ouji-sama asked.
"He is being brought into a private room, and Chichi-san will come and inform you once he has been transferred."
"Doctor," Bulma finally managed to choke out. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
"Glad to be of assistance, ma'am," he smiled, before he turned and left.
Ouji-sama turned back to her, a wide grin on his face. The grin melted when he saw her swollen eyes and wobbly stance, and he reached forward, softly holding her elbow to guide her back to the chair.
"Come now, Bulma-san, he is going to be fine," he said, reaching for a nearby tissue box and handing it to her.
She sniffled as she dabbed at her face, forcing a smile onto her lips as she regarded the older man before her.
"I am so sorry, I am really such a mess!" she said, a self-deprecating laugh accompanying her words. "I am just so happy that he is gonna be ok."
"He will be. Vegeta has always been very strong and stubborn. He will defy even death, out of spite."
Bulma burst into laughter, doubling over helplessly as she nodded.
"Yes, he certainly will," she said, her smile brighter now. "Thank you Ouji-sama. And please do excuse me today. I am not quite myself."
"Well Bulma-san, I will be more surprised, upset even, if you were composed tonight, seeing that you have that necklace on you."
Bulma's hand flew to her throat, holding the pendant as she looked at Ouji-sama in surprise. She suddenly remembered that she had never once asked Vegeta, or even Tarble, about what the necklace could have meant.
"I… Could you please tell me why? Vegeta… he gave this to me but never said what it was about."
The older Vegeta's brows shot up. "He never told you?"
She shook her head, and he sighed.
"It figures that he would be too obstinate to explain something this important to you. But before I pick up my son's communication slack, I need to know," he paused, looking intently, seriously into her eyes. "My son… has he been treating you right?"
She nodded. "He… he is very good to me, Ouji-sama. He is too good, even when I…"
Bulma tore her gaze away, unable to look at him as she kept speaking. "Even when I am… difficult. I have not been as good to him as he has been to me."
He looked away, as well, staring blankly at a wall, brows lowered thoughtfully.
"He loves you, Bulma-san."
Even after Goku had told her this earlier, the words, coming from Vegeta's own father this time, still surprised her.
She turned to look at him again. "How do you know? And why are you telling me this?"
He smirked. "You're all he talks about. He tries to downplay it, but whenever I see him nowadays, everything is Bulma this, Bulma that. He'd talk about your cooking, how you keep him organized… How you calm him down when he's mad about something at work."
He looked back at her, his eyes soft against the hard lines of his stern face. "I know my children. And Vegeta… he's always been tougher than Tarble. More difficult to get through to. This is the first time he has ever been this way. And I am telling you this because he probably hasn't, and the fact remains that…"
Bulma held her breath.
"The truth is, he needs you, Bulma. And seeing you here now, I can tell that you need him, too. You love my son, as he undoubtedly loves you."
She could feel her lips tremble. "Ouji-sama…"
"Don't doubt him, Bulma. And don't doubt yourself, either. You are perfect for him. I have known, since the first time I met you, that you would be a good match for my son."
She recalled his wide grin as they concluded her interview with Ouji Corp.
"I see something in you, lass. You will be a good match…"
She blinked. "A good match for the company?"
He straightened then, his grin still firmly on his face. "Yes, of course.
She gasped, shocked as she finally realized…
"You… you were playing matchmaker?!"
"A little!" Ouji-sama laughed, a hand lifting to scratch behind his head, eyes nearly closed in his mirth.
"I… I can't believe this! Ouji-sama!"
"Well I was right, was I not?" he asked, a wide smirk splitting across his face. "You see, I had been looking for a reason to retire for a long time, and when you came to Ouji, I found it in you. I was absolutely certain that my son would love you! And I figured, even if you didn't fall for each other, you two would make a great team. But I was right! You did fall for each other! The necklace you wear is proof."
Bulma glanced down, the glint of the beautiful necklace catching her eyes. She touched it again with the very tips of her fingers, before she whispered. "And… what exactly is this necklace? Tarble was startled when he saw it on me."
"That necklace, child," he explained, looking down at the necklace, as well, "is a legacy. It is an Ouji tradition that dates back a few hundred years. All men born with the Ouji name are given one at age fifteen. The necklace is to be given to the woman that we wish to bring into the family, the woman that we believe to be the one. We usually give it to our women once we are very sure… Tarble, and even I, gave our necklaces to our respective wives the day before we wed. Tarble was undoubtedly surprised because that necklace is a sign that Vegeta is absolutely sure about you, even though you have only just met a few months ago."
Bulma's jaw dropped as she clutched the necklace again.
Vegeta had given it to her the night they first slept in his condo. Things were still so messy between them, and she had still been so conflicted, never knowing that he had already…
That he had already loved her.
He had already been sure about her.
She furiously fought the tears that were still trying to push their way out.
She felt even worse now about all her indecision, as it became even more apparent to her that she had truly made so many mistakes.
She lost the battle with her tears yet again, and she cried, burying her face into her hands.
She felt so ashamed, she couldn't even look at Ouji-sama, knowing the pain she had caused his son.
The unnecessary pain she had caused them both.
If only she had been more sensitive to him! If only she had listened more to his kisses, hugs and actions, than to the words that he didn't say.
She knew that Vegeta was never the type to say what he really felt unless it was anger, and she had stupidly kept hoping to hear him say an arbitrary set of words rather than to see what he had been trying to show her, all along.
He loved her. He had known it before she ever realized that she loved him, as well.
"Now there, lass," Ouji-sama said, laying a hand on her shoulders that were quaking from the force of her sobbing. "Whatever happened between you two that wasn't good… you can still fix it. Speak to my son. Apologize if you need to. You can still make this work. I need you to make Vegeta happy, Bulma-san."
She looked up at him, sniffling, eyes red, cheeks puffy. "Ho-how were you so sure? That he would like me?"
Ouji-sama smiled, a wistful, far away look in his eyes, as if he was recalling a very vivid memory.
"Because, Bulma-san," he said, "you remind me of his mother."
He squeezed her shoulder before he stood, heading out of the waiting room, perhaps to inquire about Vegeta once more.
Less than a minute later, Goku returned to her side, holding a tissue box for her, and bursting full of newly acquired hospital gossip, courtesy of Chichi.
Vegeta had apparently been calling for Bulma while the OR nurses were placing him under anesthesia to begin working on his injuries. He only relaxed after one of the scrub nurses named Maron walked in. Maron had blue hair and was wearing OR scrubs and a mask, and Vegeta, in his groggy state, mistook her for Bulma.
After the surgery, he denied being in pain to all the attendants, who had gone crazy as to why his blood pressure was shooting up. One of them had the brilliant idea to send Maron in, and he finally admitted to being in pain after mistaking her for Bulma yet again.
Goku had Bulma laughing as he told her about drugged Vegeta's antics, and Bulma felt a lot better as Ouji-sama came back and told her that Vegeta was now stable, settled in a hospital room.
"Visiting hours have passed, so I signed us up as patient companions so we can stay in the room, Bulma-san. Kakarot, I am sorry but they could only allow two and I chose Bulma-san."
"Oh it's no problem, Ouji-sama!" Goku said, getting up and stretching. "I could just nap here and go up when it's ok to visit in the morning."
They said their goodbyes, and Goku and Ouji-sama stood near the door to talk about something as Bulma picked up her wallet, and her and Vegeta's phone.
As she picked up the items, she accidentally clicked on Vegeta's phone's home button, lighting up his phone display.
She stared as she registered the photo on his lock screen.
It was a candid shot of her, and she immediately recognized her dress from the night of the office party. She was standing near the entryway, smiling at something off-screen.
Her heart melted as she realized that he had been looking at her image on his phone every time he used his phone, even after their disastrous episode from the previous day.
All of the things she learned on this evening led her to a few very important realizations.
First: He truly did love her.
As much as she had been in denial, she understood that now, and would never let herself be convinced otherwise, again.
Second: She had been a fool.
A fool for not realizing it sooner… she had been a fool for letting her insecurities get in the way of her seeing his actions for what they were, for letting her foolish indecision interfere with their love.
Third: She needed him back.
She would beg him to take her back. She cannot live without him, and she refused to even envision a life without him.
And lastly: If it was up to her now, she would never leave him, would never forsake him, ever again.
Fuck her family. Fuck what people would say. Fuck the paparazzi and seriously, fuck everything. She loved Vegeta. Vegeta loved her. They belong together, and they will be together.
She vows to never let him down ever again.
She promises herself, that once he wakes up, she will tell him how she feels.
8-8-8-8-8
Ouji-sama released a jaw-cracking yawn, popping his back as he attempted for perhaps the hundredth time to get comfortable on the hospital's companion chair.
Vegeta's hospital room was on the large side, holding his bed, two reclining chairs for his overnight companions, and two smaller chairs flanking a small round table. A mini fridge was against the wall near the bed, stocked with a few bottles of water and a small fruit bowl.
Bulma herself stretched discreetly, checking the time. It was six in the morning, and Vegeta was still conked out from the pain medication.
She had nearly cried again when she saw him on the bed, pale as a sheet, with a three-inch bandage on his temple and his left arm wrapped in thick bandages. An IV drip continuously fed more fluids into him through the cannula on the back of his right hand, and his breathing, though steady, was rather shallow.
He still had dried bits of blood clinging to his hair, and though the nurses had put him into a hospital gown, some dried blood was still on his skin, Betadine marking his skin reddish brown where it had been smeared on his cuts and bruises and edging the bandages where the doctors had operated on him.
She had pushed his hair back from his face, and uncaring of present company, she had kissed him lightly on his lips before she took her place on one of the large chairs.
"Bulma-san," Ouji-sama called. "Would you like to get some food and coffee?"
Bulma was about to shake her head "no" when her stomach gave a very loud and embarrassing growl. She felt heat flood her face as Ouji-sama smirked, before he stood up and motioned for her to come along.
They both went to the hospital restaurant, where the smell of food suddenly reminded Bulma that she actually had not eaten anything substantial in 24 hours.
She inhaled her bagel, before she wrapped her hands around the paper cup of coffee, letting the warmth fill her.
Just as she and Ouji-sama had decided to go back to Vegeta's room, his cellphone rings.
He looked at the caller ID, then heaved a sigh. "Bulma-san, I have to take this call. Please do go back to Vegeta's room and I will be there with you shortly."
She made her way back to the room, smiling at the nurses filling their charts at the nurses' station.
"Miss," one nurse called. "We have Ouji-san on a soft diet today. Breakfast will be brought up to his room by seven."
"Thank you," she smiled, before she headed to Vegeta's room and softly pushed the fire-door open.
She turned to gently close the door, wincing at the very slight creak, before she turned back to her sleeping patient.
Only, he wasn't sleeping anymore.
His eyes were still narrowed lethargically, but he was clearly looking at her, posed as if he was attempting to get up from the bed.
"Bulma?" he asked, voice gravelly, almost inaudible.
Her heart stopped as she stared into those dark eyes that, just a few agonizing hours ago, she thought she would never see staring back at her ever again.
"Vegeta…"
She rushed to him, barely restraining herself from enveloping him in a tight embrace as she kept his injuries in mind. Her hands gently hovered over him as she couldn't keep her eyes off him, greedily taking in his form that, though banged up, was definitely whole and alive.
Vegeta, on his part, reached up to her with his uninjured hand, softly touching her face.
The gentle caress pulled a single tear from her eye, and she felt as it travelled down her cheek to drip softly onto his bed.
"Bulma… you're here," he whispered, a slight tinge of awe in his soft voice.
Her hand reached up, holding his warm hand against her cheek.
"Yes, I'm here. And I promise to always be here, Vegeta."
His eyes widened slightly at her words. "What…"
"Vegeta… I'm not leaving. I want to stay with you," she whispered fervently.
She took a deep breath, gathering her courage, as she prepared to say the words she had sworn to say to him as soon as he woke up.
"I love you," she finally whispered, trembling, even as the words flowed smoothly, surely from her lips.
His small but brilliant answering smile… was the most beautiful thing that Bulma had ever seen.
8-8-8-8-8
To be continued…
