It was Bulma's fifth cup of hot tea, her sixth night of being unable to sleep at a decent hour, and most likely the ninth day in a row that she and Vegeta had inexplicably formed a concrete wall between each other.
Shaking her head at the steel sight of him for what felt like the millionth time, she tried to refocus on her work. Blueprints were strewn about an already cluttered desk in her very messy bedroom. The clock screamed its pity at her in the form of 3:26 a.m.
Forming a sharp frown on her features, Bulma stood straight up and looked outside to see a full moon waving its soon goodbye at the level of her lonely balcony. She took her cup of tea with her as she slowly treaded with caution towards her patio glass doors as not to spill her beloved nocturnal beverage. After taking a slight misstep, a dollop dropped onto her foot with its searing temperature and caused her to inwardly seethe at her predictable clumsiness.
But what she did not expect was to not be alone outside.
And there they were, all over again. Like weeks prior, when he had turned her away with his murderous reference to his Princehood, he was draped across the wall with his knee up to rest his arm on and his spiked head pointed upward in deep, reflective thought.
She cursed under her breath, knowing her presence was probably felt before she even made it to the door. Knowing it was too late to turn around, she faux boldly stepped forward as if having not seen him before being halted by his unceremonious cough.
"Must you always ruin every peaceful moment in my life at all hours, woman?"
As treacherous as his words were, his tone was deceivingly soft. Bulma could tell he was probably tired, and obviously cranky. He probably didn't sleep at all before coming out here.
An eerie silence fell between them as she tried to think up some witty response to counter his, but her mind was ravaged between her work and the wedding.
The wedding.. That queasy subject that formed the break between her and Vegeta in the first place.
"Must you always claim my balcony as your own whenever I want to use it?" She somehow spat from her mouth in a clumsy drawl. His eyes flashed to hers for a brief moment before he jumped off the edge and onto the patio itself.
"Fine.. Have at it."
Bulma felt herself sulk at the anticlimactic response, wondering what had gotten into Vegeta in the first place to be so stoic when he was normally extremely responsive to her. "Vegeta," She heard herself blurt out. He didn't turn around, but stopped in his tracks to hear her plea. "You don't have to go, you know.. If you needed someone to talk to."
"If I needed someone to talk to, then why in hell would I choose to be alone at all times possible?!" He snapped at her, making her face shade over with cross indignation in the dark night.
She sighed, "Okay, fine.. Maybe I just needed someone to talk to. That's all."
The resignation in her voice and the weary confessional tone made him want to snap her neck as much as remain on the balcony to somehow placate whatever was obviously tormenting her. He clenched and then released a fist before leaving her there by herself to ponder his perpetual absence.
The truth was Vegeta didn't know what the truth was anymore. At first, he had feared and even resented the woman for perhaps going behind his back and cancelling all logic in trusting her. Then he discovers her pitiful engagement to that pathetic imbecile whose energy amounted to that of a space slug's feces. As much as he despised the planet he currently inhabited as well as its cohabitants, he was at the very least pleased of the woman's work ethic and mental stamina in aiding his training- when it actually did.
But seeing her with that gluttonous look of pride when she showed him such an awful ornament to present a bond with another made him feel ill with loathing. Somehow not as much at her as that disgusting piece of jewelry and the fool it was meant for.
Bulma was considered somewhat of royalty on her planet, a notion that Vegeta periodically scoffed at, but to think she was meant for a man of such lower standard and class than her didn't make sense to Vegeta.
In fact, it made him angry to a degree. Such a thing would never happen on his planet, ever.
And the fact that she was settling for Yamcha was unsettling for Vegeta, but only because these were his quarters and he was here first. He wasn't about to become privy to some idiot's presence lurking on these grounds, especially not on top of what he already had to deal with.
He wouldn't stand for this. He was going to burn everything to the ground in all aspects until the engagement was broken.
He just wasn't completely aware of the cause of his intentions, until...
The next morning came. No Vegeta at breakfast. Her mother even went all out and somehow cooked every single breakfast item one could think of, and he still didn't show up! Bulma was starting to get more than just irritated at the Prince's complete lack of manners, she was downright furious!
As she marched to the gravity chamber, her inner logical goddess voiced inside her mind, "Um, Earth to Bulma! You're kinda acting like a crazy person here, aren't ya?"
'No I'm not,' she thought back, 'But talking to myself in my mind is a little bit like it so pipe down!'
Despite her protests to herself, that voice wisely informed her of a minute detail she'd overlooked in her quest to find out just why Vegeta was blatantly ignoring her and her family:
'But you're engaged...'
She had almost stopped in her fast tracks, but denial quickly came up to squash that problemative thought. 'I'm only trying to correct his rude, arrogant behavior! Sheesh! It doesn't mean I even remotely like him or anything..'
As she mentally swallowed that pill with some difficulty, she felt her hand squeeze itself into a tiny, pale fist before she sent it against the gravity chamber door. Almost like an out of body experience, Bulma felt the feeling in her legs and arms go numb with anticipation for confrontation.
The door slid open to Vegeta's hardened expression of irritation before he barked in a caustic tone, "What?!"
At first she was quiet, stewing up the anger while she tapped her foot on the grass and folded her arms, "Why are you gone all the time?"
His eyes narrowed into now frustrated confusion, "... What?"
"I said, 'Why are you ignoring me and my family?'" She repeatedly with a small blush on her cheeks.
"What is it to you, woman? Don't you have ridiculous plans to make for that ridiculous ceremony of yours?" He asked sardonically. Bulma looked down, feeling that nausea again. "Oh, what's the matter? Having second thoughts, are we?"
Her amethyst orbs crept up apprehensively to his gigantic smirk and folded arms of pride. Was she that easy to read? "No! Of course not.. I just wanted to have you know my own mother handcrafted a fucking breakfast buffet in YOUR HONOUR and YOU weren't even there to see it, let alone stuff your royal face!"
He was taken back by her zealous confrontation, as well as instantly offended by her snide insults on his royalty. He blinked several times, blowing out an exhale through flared nostrils like a conflicted homosapien.
"Well? What, do you want me to go microwave it for you now?" She cocked her head to the side, pushing him even further into his temper. But instead of slamming the door in her face, his recent starvation in terms of avoiding her wasn't doing much for his physique.
"Sure," He shrugged in obligation. Her mouth just about fell to the grass itself, but she just shook her head wildly and grunted in indignation before stomping back to the kitchen with Vegeta smirking in tow behind her.
As he pummeled food into his mouth at a rate of 90 MPH, Bulma leaned on the kitchen counter facing him with her arms folded. She felt strange just watching him eat, especially the way that he did, but he was just something she could never quite predict the outcome of or figure out.
And if anyone knew Bulma, they knew she loved herself a good mystery.
She decided to chance a question, even if it had once been declared the night of her party that he'd never trust her. There was always a chance..
"Hey, Vegeta-"
"No," He snapped through a mouthful of waffles and syrup. Bulma facefaulted at his instantaneous refusal. "Don't ask me shit when I'm eating."
"How did people get married on your planet? Since mine is so inferior?" She asked in an almost condescending tone that caught his attention, simply because it was regarding his home planet.
He turned to face her, surprisingly, and put down his eating utensils with flashing onyx orbs, "Do you really want to know? It may just shatter your wholesome misconception of what mating really is.."
She could feel him trying to challenge her, so she rised her chin up and swallowed briefly before nodding.
"They bit each other in the neck, drank each other's blood to infuse it into their own, and then they fucked," He responded nonchalantly before immediately returning to his food.
Bulma's facial expression was pricelessly shocked, and Vegeta eyed her from the side with a pleased smirk as it went pale and nauseous.
"Told you it would shatter."
She shook her head and swallowed again, perhaps a number of times before replying, "That-that doesn't shatter me, I guess, to each their own and-"
"Oh do shut up. That very event is much more sacred and upheld than the sacrilegious, decorated scheme of what you call a 'wedding' on this wretched planet. A verbal contract between two people is as good as no contract, but mating is meant to mean eternity.. Blood that carries a partner's energy in it creates a bond physical and beyond that never dies, even when they inevitably do."
Bulma's face softened dramatically, letting his words albeit heated with a stoic undertone stroke her heartstrings. Could love really exist like that for another species but not her own?
"Ah, well I never did believe in that sort of thing anyway.. Perhaps it may have existed in a time of peace for my planet, but that period ended when I was five years old."
"How come?" Bulma blinked, a hint of surprise in her voice that he'd been open enough to share such a detail with her as his childhood.
Although he picked up on a slight shadow of pity in her voice, he obliged for her sake. "My planet was destroyed at that point, peace was never to return to my people nor my species. And now it is dying out thanks to that clown Kakarrot having to spawn a half-breed at my expense. Obviously, there are no Saiyan females remaining to carry on my royal bloodline as well. So basically, my title and its heritage are both fucked."
With that, he stood and left the kitchen, having said enough. Bulma was grateful he'd left when he did, as she quickly swiped away the tear falling down her cheek at his story, and how much she felt that way with her own.
That night, she was yet again restless in her endeavor to sleep. She had kept her patio doors open in case she wanted to escape into the night air again, but was almost afraid of seeing Vegeta after his revealing tale. She didn't want him to think she was pitying him, but she knew she would try to convey some sort of relation to what he went through and he'd resent her for it.
So she stayed put in her room, turning the light off and climbing into bed. After tossing and turning in her attempts to nestle in, she gave up and stared upward at the ceiling. She found herself wondering if he was right outside her door, having no choice but to listen to her rustle around with his canine sharp hearing.
Again, that tug in her lower stomach ensued. Why was she feeling so strange lately? She hadn't even heard from Yamcha in the past couple of days, leading her to make a mental note of calling him in the morning to insist what was up. But why hadn't she been so vigorous with Yamcha as she was with Vegeta?
She thought about his enigmatic air, his dark and tormented features, as well as his complete lack of fucks to give anything. His pride, his arrogance, his story.. Although he would never allow himself to be connected to another person of any race, she felt like she almost knew him.
Almost.
Close but so far away was her victory in making Vegeta an equal partner in their future fight with the Androids. Recently, she'd been improving his equipment left and right, earning small grunts of approval from him instead of incessant demands for this or that.
She closed her eyes and smiled at that image, liking that he was actually pleased with something she did.
The Vegeta thought train didn't stop as she slowly drifted off into a restless slumber, her eyelashes fluttering as her dreamscape formed itself into the shadowy silhouette of the Saiyan Prince himself. He turned and smirked at her, his devious grin making its way up her entire body and making her cheeks flush from the heat he was exuding in those onyx orbs.
"You've truly outdone yourself this time, haven't you?"
She looked down to see she was clad in a silky red bodice that hugged every curve she had underneath her lab coat. Her astonished blue eyes moved up to see Vegeta swipe his tongue over fangs that sparkled in the dim laboratory lights.
"Come."
The simple command made Bulma blush even harder from its insidious tone and malicious innuendo. She stammered over her words before finally finding them somewhere in her uplifted chest, "W-What if I don't want to?"
His eyes narrowed deliciously before he growled, "Then I will make you-"
And he was in front of her in a millisecond, pinning her to the closest barrier he could, which turned out to be a sink. Their faces loomed forward against each other's as their breath intertwined, tempting a kiss as he shifted her hips upward to wrap her legs around his. She gasped suddenly as she felt his manhood grind up against her core, making her inwardly shudder from the sudden contact and silver streaks of arousal peaking through her.
"Oh, what do we have here? Did somebody get a little.. wet?"
The word lusciously hung on his lips before Bulma suddenly noticed she was soaked from head in toe and before she could scream in humiliation-
She woke up in a startle, sitting up straight with sweat pouring through her body. Not only did her mouth literally hang in shock that she'd even dreamed that, but an unexpected sting of disappointment went through her. It had felt so real, so sharp..
As pangs of arousal pierced her core relentlessly, she wondered if she'd actually climaxed during the dream.
But there was one person who didn't need to ask. He had his back against the wall outside on her porch ready to launch into the sky should she even move from her bed, clutching a fist hard enough to break skin.
Vegeta had heard everything, sensed the ripples of ki bursting through his sensor's seams, and knew right away the sharp aroma of feminine heat. The bitch was practically writhing in her sleep, saying his name repeatedly.
He swallowed inaudibly at his initial repulsion, but unfortunately it was not repulsion at the event itself or even the woman.
It was at himself, and the growing erection that pressed itself against his shorts to announce its unwanted presence inch by inch at every moan she had made in his name.
That night, Vegeta didn't sleep, nor could he erase that very sound from his memory.
Okay! I KNOW. I'm going a little slow with these two.. But I'm treading carefully on how to form their chemistry and build it nice and tantalizing for ya'll.. Don't hate me!
Instead, review, so I can bring you more :)
Even after writing that, I'm catching a bit of feels myself.. I might write that next chapter even sooner just because, sex.
3
-Nicolesque