Me: I have been so excited for this chapter. Oh my gosh.

Dina: Hee..hee... -smiles, looking away- I as well...

Jkonna: -diga-doesn't particularly care-

Rupert: ah... -looks away too, embarrassed but not going to admit to it because he's Rupert-

Mistress: -hee... Silly dearies... all of you silly dear-

Me: MISTRESS MY CHILD I MEAN RUPERT'S MAPO QUEEN CHILD AHHHHH I AM SO PUMPED LIKE 20 PERCENT MORE NOW

The Stone Fossil Fighter

Chapter 21: Follow Her

Rupert

A special plane, this one. Unlike the other ones of bulkier, harsher design, sleek in the ink of a rugged, rigid darkness of thoughtless, listless, emotionless black. Still, even those, without their sleek skill embedded into the heart, their purposes are far less crucial and endearing than that of this cherry-red spanned plane, the tops draped in a sunset and the bottom an ice cream of a vanilla, the somewhat small proportions of twenty scattered seats spread about a lithe and square chamber. The cockpit a vast unknown further ahead. Todd awaits our arrival. For now, although, she is still all to my self, her curled form appearing to have slept in the covers and pillows heaped into her scoop of a chair. Its hard but soft back allows her figure to still be safe even in one place.

My own seating arrangement has been placed beside her, where I can watch her, be with her. My hands find hers in the mass of warmth stuffing her, those tiny, nigh porcelain specks of shimmering white I hold so dear to me. The hands that belong to the girl I hold so dear to me. Dina...

Her eyes, while nestled shut, are restless beneath the lids of snowy silver. She has not slept for a time now, a space of time overruled by her fear of the nightmares that lie wait in front of her. She would rather go without the image of them on her tongue and indulges in not describing them but finding the comfort in me I wish to give her; only these ones she finds so... horrifying... she feels it would be better to allow me to see her into what is going on. She... trusts me. It must be hard for her to let me know what horrors sit inside of her and wilt within and try to harm the precious flower of a beauty that she is. Because... she does trust me with it... and it must hurt, those dying petals a dagger in her, to tell... someone she must care about... all of this.

But she trusts me with it. I want to... I want to know how she feels... I want to understand her... my poor Dina... She's everything for me: to have given me a hope and a joy when I saw nothing... as I was alone—it is hard to believe, but she trusts me. She must... if she takes this time so often to rely on me and to... cry when I am not near. The monster in her, the one ravaging her—it ravages me to see that this is what is becoming of her. A flower as frail as she deserves all but this... if only I could take this pain from her... I wish I could understand her and tell her... that I... I... Simply, I want to do more for her.

The nightmares attack suddenly now, swords in the sluicing shadow of night... in the earl gray dawn of day... there they are... there they are... She has no control over them now. I fear and know she is slipping... she is slipping from my grip... Never was I particularly gifted in a level of strength, although perhaps I did have a prodigal level of understanding with the likes of Mistress and my vivosaurs, but I... still, I wish to hold her up and lift her from these troubles, never to allow their condescending waterfall of a sinewy darkness to ever take her again.

She is kind. Dina... and she wishes for others to be kind as well. Sometimes her own footsteps prevent her from what she wishes to resolve, her own clumsiness or self-worries or the fears of others... I wish to strengthen her... to help her... I cannot lose her...

If one so bright were to light my path when I all but lost it; why should she be allowed to fall so clearly? I need somehow to find a way to light this own darkness within her that hurdles her, that tore through her mind so long ago, that eats at her now... What hurts her stings me as if it were one of my own wounds.

Gently, gently... A hand lifts from her own little fingers and caresses her cheek. Although perhaps it is scaly now, it oddly suits her more than whatever form she had prior to this. She stirs only the slightest, lips expressing a cute, small moue at the minimal disturbance until her head leans into my hand. It is cloaked as it most usually is by the fabrics of black, covering up all but my fingers, covering up the scars embedded within.

When she first learned that... the way she leaned into me and the way her small arms held me tightly upon it... She cares for me... I only wish I do the same, that my own feelings and worries, my attention to her gives her joy like she does for me: her existence alone a wondrous delight. She knows it not but at times now, small pockets of enclosed and hidden spaces... I do smile. I have begun to smile again. She has taught me and has yet to see it. A little... shy to this new encounter, I have yet to know when I will let her understand this feeling inside of me... I am shy about this...

The fingers stroking her cheek lightly move over to her back, the other mirroring its companion as they peel her from off the edge of her own chair, one moving closer to her bent legs for better balance and gently I pull her close to me. It... would be difficult to lift the blankets and place them here with us so I do without. Perhaps my own warmth will be enough for her. Task at hand completed and well to my taste, I again hold her tightly, she nuzzled closely to me. It is... a very nice feeling, to have her. Even the shadows under her gaze seem a mite endearing to me: for they are a part of her, a piece of her... and she makes me smile all the slightest.

Torn, graciously, has fallen asleep some time ago. He does not know. He would yell in his although playful as well irritating sort of dislike I would rather without. I prefer these moments where I hold Dina this closely, her light, gentle orange hairs covering my shoulder where her head rests. Waves crescent her chin the slightest in its moon-like bend. I prefer her close to me... I prefer her near me and always near me...

To my feet, where my discarded boots lay—it felt a mite wrong to wear hard soles in such a posh, commodious setting—the small and spiny form of a royal blue creature curls around the many blankets as they spill. One specific, dark spine cradles over one eye, shaded as it always is. Mistress stirs; her quite elegant snout preens up into the comforting air.

Rupert... would it be too childish of me to state that I rather like this coiled position on the ground? Oh, I feel like an overweight, furry creature who just minds its own mindless and simple business all the time! It's strangely oh so very nice, dearie! A mapo queen, she tends for the striking and dare I say glamorous approach of sparkling, although her obvious care for others and worries poke through any skein she may uphold. She lays lazily in her new position. Carpeting of salmon puffs around her, tail flickering gaily in the fronds.

Nearby, a smaller, honey-colored creature, she finned and all the gentler, squeaks. Oh, Mistress, I totally understand that! It... it is super nice, hee... She's soft, a wafer-like hold on the standing of life, her glittering orbs turned nervously on others most times. Sunny can be just as endearing as a combination of both Mistress and Dina at times. Somewhere, off and pompous, I daresay I would find Gyntis. He, fluffy on the muzzle and the neck, the head and tail, the rest of him a blizzard of blue, calls himself a rather rigid e-raptor. The final one rounding out my current group would be Tessa... whose whereabouts I seem to never find.

My... father... had found my prodigal strengths early and farmed them for all of the worth and gold he could attain, killing my mother in the process, just to be sure nothing stood in the way. To have emotional contact would... ruin my "perfection," which not until Dina remained undisturbed. Small puddles of wakes had tried to disrupt me before: Mistress, my single gift from my long... decayed mother; the rest of my family, grandfather and cousin who I do find reasonably compassionate to me; and, but of course... Luk, if I dare. Perhaps they called me prodigy, but my own vivosaurs seemed mere, blurry tools out of anything for a... very long time.

It took the strange souls of Torn and Trikko before such a scheme could ever be interpreted differently for me. Dina... Softly, casting my light gaze upon her, my lips softly brush her forehead and, while my grip is soft, I hold her a little tighter, simply for me.

We never mentioned it, but it appears my own strength in battling has again surpassed hers. I think it makes her happier than anything; that my own showings as a... prodigy, my own gifts, have begun to reveal again. After her teaching me in the gift and beauty, the strange warmth provided by love, I was able to learn again the true path to follow... Again, I glaze over her...

I whisper her name, this for myself as well: "Dina..." It's gentle, soft, a little cold, perhaps that of a snowfall in the winter, but I suppose that is me. She... seems to rather like me. It's a... very nice thing, to share these feelings. With her...

Windows align opposing walls in the plane, those donned by the wings. These strips of glass provide majestic signs of the clouds, the sunshine outdoors, which I suppose is a sight to behold: all the sunshine I could ever ask for is who I hold with me. To have Dina... it is all I could ask for, and more... and everything...

Mistress giggles from her casual, lolling perch.

From a somewhere shuffle in the folds of what blankets seat themselves in my own chair—our chair—an aquamarine disc situates itself with that of Mistress, soon forming into the stout, red-and-blue figure of none but the tricera Trikko. Well, hello, Mistress, he chirps gruffly, I am so very proud of your seeing the facts and realizing this relationship is... well, perfect is improbable but I sup—

Trikko! she cries in earnest return, shame on you!

Backwards, he stutters, Oh, shut up. You know my one true pairing is the facts, and it's improbable for—

You're horrible, Trikko!

Sh-shut up, Mistress! Fine! I'll call it perfect; now shut up!

From her corner, the small marple skitters over toward the other two. Sunny's gaping maw widely preens. Uuuhhh... Mister Trikko? Miss Mistress?

Cute, the titles she unnecessary crowns to the likes of him, as well as my dear mapo queen who would rather not hear such a label from another. I suppose she, Sunny, the little yellow marple, must be younger than the two before her fossilization, although not by all the much. Thinking of my humble quartet makes me wonder if I ever will find a fifth to add to their throng. I would rather; Dina's own troop rallies at a sound round of five. I do pertain on my person a small allot of fossils, one being a head as I have seen the shape of the finned snout hidden in, but I cannot tell if I ever will revive it. Simply, I remain indecisive.

Maybe... one day...

Oh, dearie, don't worry about us! Just a harmless spat because Trikko's head is thick and he believes in no more than his silly, silly 'facts.' And please, dear girl, don't go calling me such a title! I've already asked against it; I'm just Mistress, please. Although... er... Softly she ends her speech and glances sidelong for the stouter of their bluish duo.

Yeah, pretty much harmless, I'd say. Mistress is sort of the new Torn around here, because Torn and I unfortunately have become too close for me to feel it alright to insult him. And, ugh, don't. Don't call me that. I am no such 'mister,' that's just a putrid thought. The facts would defy me if I were a 'mister.'

Somehow his entire bout was expected. Gently, feeling her stir within the heat of my arms, I hold her closer to me, softly... softly to lean in closely to her and lay my lips upon her cheek to whisper her name where my breath lands and pull back again the slightest: like a tide, its sparkling waters lifting toward shore only to pull back again, and endless game, never to fully entwine. Although... no... I wish to understand her, to truly... be on this level as her... to tell her I know what is going on... that it is hard... that it is okay to feel this weak sometimes because of how hard this is... and that is why I cannot leave her... because of this danger and because of how much I... care for her... this emotion kneading, pleading in me, don't let go... And I cannot.

But I wish to feel her burden, too... to... share it with her, if I may... to be on the same place with her... Would she prefer such a thing? if I were to somehow intensify what I know on my own? to find a link that can pull us... closer? Would she rather that, if I may? Dina... Her figure lay waste to all that comes before her but actual rest; gently my fingers uncovered by the cloth of my gloves press over the sallow, dark spot beneath her precious orb and I wish I could feel this pang, so that I could truly... be with her, in these times of hardship.

We know that as it only becomes ever the more obvious that the despicable creature inside of her only intakes more of her soul that by the end of it, eventually, Dina will not... be Dina. She will be the... creature... and she will be lost inside of herself. Possessed... almost. As if sharing her body with two entities... somehow. And she will be gone then, until... until...

Like the moon or the stars surrounding it, or like the peachy yellow clouds in the swooning sunset outside, like the color Torn's eyes once were prior to his preference of grape over lemon, like golden tears, my eyes begin to lose their focus at such a thought. Such a... true... thought. That... she... will be gone. Eventually. She will not be here with me... she will be ever the less present in my life. Absent. Someone else will... someone else will...

Feeling voiceless emotion curl in my throat, I cover my lips and look away from her, unable to, for the moment. The sight, the thought, of losing her... inevitably unable to hold her... when she is weakest and when she will perhaps... need it the most... and to know it, to know it until the bitter, frosty, mindless end...

Dina... no... I realize in my stupor that unconsciously I had begun to hold her tighter than I tend to. Preferring more a gentler grip that still keeps her close, this tightness must result from my fear of... being so far from her. My grandfather and cousin, Scatterly and Dinu, both paused at the pretense... the pretense of there being a way, when this happens, to...

But we still... don't...

Dina...

Wordless creatures hobble and hop into the basket-like scoop of a chair, with its protective back overhang placing Dina in this temporary safety until the plane is due to land in Nomadistan and that tournament she was so thoughtful into taking—for Todd, for Todd—begins. Torn continues to loudly snore, perhaps he is faking the scene now, while the others... quietly summon themselves. How... embarrassing of me to desire this comfort they irrevocably give me. Little creatures, clay-colored Aladee and monotonous Reyna, bright, rainbow-tinted Sunny as well as... Mistress. Nyra, too, the sweet birdlike wonder, her wings thick and heavy with long, cottony feathers. And, if I am not mistaken, Torn seems to display quite an aura for the likes of her.

Still she stays closest to me, still my arms hold tightest round her, still she does not wish to go, for she is awake in the gentlest of senses that she could leave as soon as she wishes, but she rather would... stay with me.

Silently then, I wonder, if Dina and I have come... does that mean the likes of Pauleen are on this plane as well? While my attention hasn't specifically watched upon others who are not Dina, Pauleen is... her friend. She has friends. It... brings me joy to know she has others to share her feelings with, although I doubt I could ever... connect in such a way with them. But to have she, and to have she alone... she is everything for me, and she is all I could ever wish for... sweet Dina...

The others circle and warm around me as I gaze quietly for the lines of glass alerting to windows outside. It's still a... little hard for me to look at her. I still feel these emotions in my throat and the blurring sensation just in the pinch of my orbs, the feelings I nigh began to shed, and so I watch. Clouds zoom rather slowly past. Others break quite easily, torn by a wing, and split and fall the faster. Peachier clouds have become more common now; hopping like islands as they split and bloom and push around in the expanse of others. Bright, harmless pink, like that of the blush adorning her cute face at times, like that of... of...

Plonk. I do believe the other chair has been fulfilled now. "Rupyyyy! It's my fave boy, digadig!"

Pauleen.

Wonderful.

Slowly I drag my gaze unto her brown-tinted skin, not as full blown as others but still gingerbread and quite marginally there. Her glitzy grin, accompanied by emerald eyes shining deeply, knowingly, watch over me as my own gaze to her. Her thick, pink curls—that is what it was—are lined by strange, yellow tints at the edges, like her bangs and the sort: and all of this for some strange reason she has not pinned into usual two pompom puffs of hair but left curly and thick. It swoons and fills her. A new dress of the sort, this lanced with puffy white around the edges like snow caps, the rest of it gleaming rather atrociously in a magical fashion, embedded in bright blue snowflakes. All of these match. All five or so of them.

Her grin digs deeper. "Oh, Rupy, you silly boy."

"What have I done to—"

"Whhhyyyy, I oughta! Oh, how fun!" The chair, with a sssskkkkkkurrrhhhhhhhkkk, drags ferociously closer to my own shared with Dina, who still refuses to open her eyes. Not that I would blame her. "Hrrm... well, digadig, you still have yet to tell the diga-Din-Din you love her and you're holding her like that, and I can teeeellll you were about to freakin' cry, digadig! I can teelllll! Why you not crying, weirdo? If you have feelings you shouldn't hide them!" She babbles on and on and...

Perhaps it is easier for me to hide them, then... if I do so this often that I hardly notice a difference any longer... No, no—I, for certain, understand that Dina sees me... and Dina can tell how I feel... I do not hide around her any longer... It would feel... very wrong...

Beneath Pauleen's usual bubbly scheme is a longing for me to speak in return. She... must... worry for Dina being in... my own possession, instead of the feelings of another—such as her. I know how she feels for her. These sorts of trivial emotions never truly hid from me, perhaps I becoming a master in seeing how another is being so similar to my own facades. Before Dina, I... acted cold and distant to diminish the likeliness of others pestering me into their lives, but... I only wished for... someone who...

How her head tilts to one side in the slightest, the blush resonating her cheeks, the deepness of the orbs and how she bites her lip... she wishes for me to say something in return. In fact, I soon realize the drone of her conversational tone has ended.

"Ah! I apologize," I mutter in the vain attempt to correct myself, and, scattering for any sort of topic, "why are you coming to the kingdom of the north?"

"Mmmm?" She recovers instantly. That is a nice thing about Pauleen; it must be easy for her to accept the flaws of others and move on... after the mask incident to hide up one of her own and... she broke Dina's hand... "Oh, well, I grabbed a bunch of diga-dresses and I'mma smuggle them over into Todd's room by going there myself. Seee... the diga-dress he was in when he was... really injured and brought there... it's all muddled, y'know, so they offered him some of their own clothes, and, like, diga, Todd was whining about how awful their own diga-dresses were so he begged I get him some of our own. Which I... grudgingly... diga-did?"

It is not until now I realize my small smile from earlier vanished. Perhaps my eyes appear... inviting enough. A friend of Dina's is acceptable by me, and... not many people are in such a category. And it's not as if Pauleen is a bad person by any means. I like who she is; merely, I... it would be wrong to smile in front of anyone before Dina can know... and otherwise... it is not so easy for me to open up to others... Although I suspect I cannot be... fully... blamed... when one sees where I have come from. Trust does not come easy for some...

Either way, she still is a kind and endearing female and I would rather not harm her in any way. Harming is... something I would rather avoid simply in general. Pauleen, her face brighter, happy now that I have contributed, completely loses the glossy pretense of hiding anything, being it something she would rather avoid, after that mask, and she begins her bubbly speaking over the fabrics and the designs she decided for, to which I learn she and her vivosaurs actually do make much of their threads on their own. She asks me raptly if I do not know any of her—five—vivosaurs and begins labeling them one by one.

Well enough I manage to keep track of all of the moments she graciously speaks of, this Flimp of a dimorph ace, the likes of a red and male Nyra, just about, as well as her dearest Verily whom she has had for a long time, I take it, and Blocko a rather heated, red-and-black menchi, and of course how could she ever, ever forget Sivan the furry ball of a vivosaur, and would it be Slit? Her single other air vivosaur, a rather shiny radox—Verily being a v-raptor—and oh, how long she can speak of these creatures, I can hardly believe. Apparently they are the dress-making scene she wished of for a long time and is now quite proud of the vivosaurs she has found.

Before her thoughts can wander, I must... I must ask her... "Pauleen?"

Immediately her gaze flickers toward me.

"Is it... hard... at all? Is it hard..?"

Silence for a moment, surrounding my probing question,which I cannot blame. It is a bit of a... an almost touchy subject. Upon hearing this from me, a sugary little grin dimples her cheeks and she murmurs, "I knew you were a good one, Rupy..." before hurriedly continuing on, grinning softly, "No... naaw... I'm just happy if she's okay... and she's happy... and oh boy oh boy you make her sooooo happy, Rupy... nobody else freaking diga-does that for her... y'know? She hasn't had the easiest life, and you, but..." She gazes off, eyes bright with merry.

It is a silence but yet a comforting one.

Eventually Pauleen wanders amok and I believe she sights Gyntis off in the far corner, his half-furry half-scaly figure freezing under this new feeling of a new sight, and she begs me in turn for a chance to dress him, and I suppose she can dress him, why not? Therefore she takes to the ground leaping, her dresses for Todd quite visible stored in the edges of her own dress, and she is gone in moments. I do not know how long she will be over in the other direction. Longer than one would expect; she gets sidetracked quite easily.

Quietly, for no reason in particular, my mind begins to wander as I watch over my sweet little Dina. I try to curb the thoughts of... of what may come, and try to focus on right now, right here, with her, as it pains me to... look at this in any other light. I wonder about her family, and what sort of creatures may be still... searching for her—but would they not have found her already if they were searching? I trust her biological blood family is... not similar to mine.. she does not deserve such a thing... and that perhaps it is a long, complex story as to why her family members are unable to come and find her now... that perhaps they are still living and breathing... and they will be okay...

I worry for her... even if I understand how futile it is, I worry for her...

Is it shameful that I wish for these loved ones to take longer so that I can be hers alone for more time? Would it be so unrighteous for me to wish of such a thing? I apologize... I cannot help these feelings that have fulfilled me... that have saved me... that have changed me... for such a greater good... and now I cannot lose the one who invoked such a magical transformation in me, no... I want her... I wish for her... for Dina..

Alone with her again, other than the oddly silent throng of vivosaurs around us, I hold her close to me and gently, gently rest my own head upon her little shoulder. Her hair is soft against my head, peachy, light, softly waved, beautiful... beautiful... her scales soft like skin but softer as they pillow where I lay, my hands around her back, fingers softly stroking her. My sweet... little Dina... How I wish to stay with her... to always stay with her...

Her scent rests among us: a soft, musky odor like that of a vivosaur, calming, sweet, it reveals her personality with that of a gentle tug... her caring for her vivosaurs... simply her sweet, caring self... whether she sees it or non... Behind it I can detect an earthly smell of that of someone who is outside often...

Perhaps I can tell when secrets are held, but that is yet another reason of why Dina means this much to me: she dislikes them. I recall, at the very germinal seed, the start of our meeting, she tried to hide back the fact of her foster parents, those... cruel individuals, she wanted to keep others from seeing she was an amnesiac, but she had reasons as well... and if someone understood her and asked to sit with her and talk, I feel like those time-worn barriers would collapse. She dislikes secrets even if she had her own: we all do; it is what we do with them that differs the being.

Torn has secrets too. He's in denial about love with Nyra and everyone but she can see it in him.

Dina's secrets... remind me of that. When others pester her it's quite easy to find it... but that is okay... I am here now... I want to protect you from those others, Dina... I want to keep you safe... And yet now I cannot, now I fall to my knees in front of a gate that permits none but that thing inside of her to one day escape, to be her, and Dina to fall, into the place where she does not belong... not at all... I only wish to hold her and to protect her from these things... but there are some things I cannot protect her from... things that not a soul can protect her from...

I can only hope that... when it does begin... perhaps this Zoazoa will... not be so bad... Apparently she has found homage, as a... wounded ancient... the child of the filthy—and deceased—Zongazonga... she has found safety inside of Dina... some part of her body... long, long ago... I cannot understand such a thing, and I am sure Dina feels secure in much less... But I am here... I am here... I am here...

Dina... why..? Why must... I... lose you..? I cannot bear to let go of you... so why must... why must...

You are so kind... you are too kind for this... You listened to me at the very least... you were quiet... you wished to follow me... and you did not grow upset when I began to follow you quite lividly... and when I told you about my father... and after you saw him... you only wished to keep... me... safe... But you were already safe, I so thought, when I found you... but you are not... you are not... and I cannot save you like this... I am going to lose you... This reality... thus in this reality... Ah...

"Ruu...pert..?" She is stirring. What brought her into the solid ruins of the waking world, or as far away as she could get from it, so soon..? She was tired, very tired... as we boarded here... She is tired often now... although this can help... my poor Dina... "Ru...Rupert..." Her soft, sweet words further bound in my name the more she whispers it toward me. I like... hearing her say it...

As she wakens and infiltrates the air of this world again, her arms gently hold me as I realize mine had fallen away at some time, and her hands... one rests softly on my back, clutching a swatch of the red fabric of my coat she so, too embarrassed to say it, loves. The other... touches my cheek... it is warm, oddly, her fingers which so often now are frigid. Where her thumb so gently rubs... I realize why she had awoken... from where my head lies now... it must have been easy for me to... accidentally wet her... and... surely enough... there are small droplets resting along her shoulder now. I.. ah... I am sorry, Dina...

Silently, she whispers, her head so close to mine, her breath so warm upon me, worried, she is worried for me; "Rupert... wh-why are you... crying..?"

My throat catches again. I begin to work myself against it, to try and undo this change. As I realize how much emotion has been eked out of me at this time, I am reminded of the smile I nearly shed to her prior, that I did show her nigh sleeping eyes, the ones that will not see me in such a state. I wonder how so soon ago it was that easy to offer such a gesture to my sleeping... darling...

And I whisper back, "I am sorry, Dina... it is hard... I cannot lose you, and yet..." I must.

"A-aah..." She quakes, just the slightest, in her hold of me, as I place my arms back where they belong around her. Before I have a chance, her own head gently moves towards mine but as our foreheads collide they knock together in the vaguest sense of pain. "Aaahh! I-I-Iiii..." Her face blooms rather brusquely as she ducks, embarrassed and shameful of herse—

Dina... it is cute but... do not push yourself so hard... Goodness, Dina... It's okay...

And then it is my turn to place my own hand on her soft, silvery cheek, to where I can maneuver so our... our foreheads do touch, and I can see so deeply into her endless oceans of amethyst orbs, into the small tears she accidentally formed herself. "Dina... aw, Dina... it is okay, it is okay..." I gently tug on her head with my fingers, so that, for a moment much longer than a moment, I may caress her lips with my own, and thus pull back... I wish to speak with her right now... to hear her sweet voice... It is a song to my heart, to hear her, and perhaps she is not gifted in tune of voice but that matters not to me.

"Rupert... I-I am sorry... I.. I do not wan-wanna g-g-go..." she pules lightly and her gaze searches for something else to rest on, her cheeks those of petals of the rouge red of a rose. Her nose, the central point, blooms all the redder.

Shaking my head, gently, I, like a question, pull her eyes toward mine again. I want to... see you, Dina... do not worry so much... please do not worry so much... Oh, how I must have worried her, with this pain I go through... from the notion that I will lose her... "It is fine... not your fault, Dina, not yours in any way at all your fault... Whatever I can do for you, I will. In the span of a single heartbeat I will go to all forces I can use to save you... to bring you back again, whenever this so does occur..." Sometimes I feel guilt for what I do... because sometimes it almost feels as if I am not doing this for her sake, but my own... because I could not go on without the soft little orange-haired girl by my side. It is fact, like those of Trikko's, for me. But perhaps she is the same.. ah...

"Dina... I am sorry... I wish to understand you... to truly... if I could share this... pain with—"

"N-n... no! No, no!" She's apologetic in stance, eyes dark, face upturned, for cutting me off, but this appears more important to her. The whites around her eyes seem to swoon. "No... no no no no... I do not care for you to go through this... no... I do not w-want you to... feel like this, Rupert... it is not a... very good f-feeling at all... I do not w-want you to be h-hurt... I am happy that... y-you are safe... I do not know what I would do if... you..." It dawns on her. "Oh... that is what you... aaaah, I-I am sorry..."

She feels... guilty now... I wish to calm her, for this at the very least is an act which I can change upon her. "It's okay, Dina... Do not worry... You have much you are going through, much to focus on... I wish to help you, if I can... I wish to be here for you... in all ways I can..." Her gaze has grown dull as she must think about this situation I have been in... but Dina, no, you don't worry about me... we must worry for your sake now: as much as neither of us like it, it's you who... you're in...

that thing... ah...

"Rupert... y-you mean very much to me... y-you know..." she mumbles off very gently, as if trying to explain something new to me... but perhaps she is the one who must be gentle for herself... as she is in a quite weakened state... "I-I know that th-there is... p-people like P-Pauleen and the others but you... But you... You are... It is like..."

"Yes..." It's not... an easy wording. It is fine... I know... I know, Dina... "You mean... very much to me as well..."

I can but stare deeply into those beautiful, violet eyes of hers... they seem to tug at me, just the gentlest... to comfort me in their wake, all because they are her eyes, the eyes of Dina's which I care for like I care for her heart... her sweet, kind heart that warmed me and saved me when it appeared I would be nothing in the end... It occurs to me that if I can see so far into her, she must look this deeply... into my own eyes... right now... She told me once that... when I look at her, they become very light and gentle, the harshness and the coldness peeling and melting right away. Just to see her...

Sometimes I feel guilty in the way that she does have those friends who she enjoys... and out there there must be a family for her, similar to me but... I do not... I think of others whom I do not have... I only have her... Maybe one day... maybe there will be others... people who we both cherish... But even so, all... all I have is her... and yet all I need is her, truly, in the end... she is... all... for me...

It soon becomes evident that words cannot say how we feel, they cannot try to explain these emotions that we share... but I do not mind. I wait a moment, a smile in my eyes, as I know from the way her slits of eyebrows knit and how her eyes thoughtfully shine that she is working up the courage to do it herself. Ever since the beginning... yes, even then... I could always tell when... she was about to kiss me... It is fun to wait, the feeling of thundering trepidation in my chest on the verge of unbearable, but a delicious unbearable as I watch her eyes slowly inch toward my own pale lips and she cutely bites at her own softly, her cheeks more a pink than a red here.

Until she takes the surge, the movement, her close to me, so very close that our breaths collide and become one... she and I... together... and that I truly feel her with me... and I know that at least right now... it will be okay... it will be okay... she is with me... and I... I...

Again... I cannot believe it... but I am... happy...

Me: First of all vivosaurs don't smell bad just wanted to say that
Second of all I'm sorry if the chapter was too pda for you if it was I can understand I usually can't look at what I'm typing when it's romance... xD Super duper fluffy Rupert/Dina romance that I love but ohhhhh my gosh it's almost too much, hahhahahaha... At least, it feels like that while I'm writing sometimes, but maybe I just wanna try to play corpse party. I think I mentioned getting the first game once in the old series? Hahaha... well, there's this new one I've been trying so hard to play but it's terrifying, haha...

Tim: Yes, of course it—

Me: -tosses a random sack of flour at him- WHY ARE YOU HERE. YOU DON'T BELONG IN THIS STORY.

Tim: -smirks-

Zoey: HELLO!

Me: YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE

Tim: You mentioned terrifying... so therefore I was summoned..?

Zoey: I came because Tim came.

Me: I thought you hate him.

Zoey: Oh I do

Me: of course. -just leaves-