In volume 19 of the manga, after Allen returns from the Phantom Thief G mission (the one that introduces Timothy Hearst), he wakes up in the night to find Lenalee in the same room as him, having just woken up from a nap in the bed across from his. In the manga, Howard Link interrupts this moment almost immediately by yelling at them from outside the door. But suppose Link didn't notice them at that point? I saw an opportunity and took it.

As always, thank you for reading. I truly appreciate everyone who stops by.

Zeal, Hope, and Longing

"Lenalee?" Allen said in surprise. He'd only woken up a few seconds ago and was still disoriented. Still shaking off the remnants of a dream. The bedroom was lit only by moonlight from the windows, but he could clearly see her sitting on the other bed, the one next to his. Apparently, she'd come to visit him once he returned from his last mission, but he hadn't been awake to greet her. Until now.

"How are you feeling? Has your fever gone down?" she asked again.

"Oh, uh, yes. I'm certain it's gone completely. I feel fine."

"That's great! I was pretty nervous because your latest mission was a rough one, I heard."

"Ha, it'll take more than a few scratches to defeat me." Allen looked down at himself, inspecting the bandages that patched up nearly half his body. He vaguely remembered receiving these bandages, but he'd been so fatigued at the time that he barely paid attention to the nurse's work. "Well, I guess this is a bit more than a 'few' scratches, but still."

He hadn't expected this to happen, but the more he stared at his own injuries, the more entranced he became at the sight of them. It was a perverse fascination. He couldn't tear his eyes away, even though looking at them was deeply unpleasant. There really were a lot of bandages . . . He was fine, though, really. It wasn't anything too bad . . .

"Allen!" Lenalee rushed off Link's bed and jumped onto his. At first, he had no idea why she seemed alarmed, or why her fingertips were brushing his cheek. But then he noticed the stinging in his eyes, and the sensation of something trailing down his face. It shocked and embarrassed him to realize he was crying.

He sucked in a few deep breaths. To his relief, no more tears followed the first. He'd managed to calm himself quickly. But not quickly enough. Although Lenalee dropped her hands, her expression remained full of concern. She was worried because of him.

"Don't fret," he said. "I'm okay. I'm not in pain. That was nothing."

"You don't have to put on a brave face, you know."

"I'm not. Truly, everything is fine. I am . . . I am . . . I'm so tired." The words slipped out without him intending to say them.

"Then I should leave to let you sleep," she said softly, but she didn't move from his side. "Although . . . that's not what you meant, is it?"

Hold your tongue. Don't say anything, Allen told himself. But it felt like, somewhere, a door crashed open, releasing a flow of words that had been contained for a long time. "I'm tired of fighting constantly. This never ends! I'd give anything to take a break. No, wait, I don't mean that. Being an exorcist is what I live for. Maybe there are a few moments where I wish to be a normal guy, but I know there's no other life for me. Even if the path I walk is hard and -"

He cut himself off. "I've got to stop this. You have my apology, Lenalee. You're an exorcist too, going through the same troubles as me, and yet you never complain."

"But I do." She paused, uncertain of herself for just a moment before continuing. "In my head, all the time, I daydream about leaving here. In my mind, I hold onto all my resentment over this role I have to play." She tensed, making him worry she was about to cry, but she kept talking steadily. "I wish for an infinite number of peaceful days spent with my brother and my friends. I wish that I had no problems bigger than deciding what to eat for breakfast. I wish for a world where good young men didn't come home bearing fresh wounds." Her eyes were on the huge, vertical scar running down his chest and stomach. A souvenir he'd acquired from his recent mission.

"Ah, that one was sort of my own fault, actually," Allen remarked. "I made a foolish move. Well, it didn't seem foolish at the time. I thought that I . . ." He trailed off. He wasn't in the mood to tell the whole story.

Lenalee gazed at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish his sentence. He tried to gather his thoughts, to find a way to close the conversation - but all of a sudden, his mind was empty. His throat felt dry. He didn't know why this hadn't occurred to him before, but it hit him that Lenalee was sitting right beside him, and that they were alone in this room. Her face was very close, her eyes and her hair and her mouth, and her presence was making him forget that anything existed in the world except for her beauty. He leaned in and touched his lips to hers.

Startled by his own behavior, he leaned away immediately. But she grabbed him and pulled him back into the kiss. If she was surprised, she didn't show it for even a second. He swiftly lost himself in the sensations of her lips and tongue. Her fingers ran through the strands of his hair, then slid down over his shoulders, his chest, and then lower still.

Their bodies worked without their minds. Before Allen had fully registered what was happening, they were tugging clothes off, throwing things to the side of the mattress, some of the clothes falling to the floor.

As he moved, Allen's injuries gave him tiny sparks of pain. But they weren't enough to stop him. Not nearly enough. In a night that had already been full of surprises, perhaps what amazed him the most was discovering the strength of his own desire. When her shirt was off, her skin exposed to the moonlight, he found himself with no hesitation to reach out and touch her. The little sounds she made in response to him served to embolden him further.

She, too, wasn't shy about placing her hands on him. Her fingers traveled everywhere. Somehow, the attacks he'd endured in battle were nowhere near as astonishing as the sweet tenderness of her caresses.

Maybe, on some level, he'd known this event had been coming for a long time. The Black Order was fighting for the sake of the world. Its members tried to put aside selfish whims. But after all this time, after countless battles and ever-expanding sources of worry and stress, it appeared that the need to find comfort had quietly grown to be too much.

When they joined together, she wrapped her arms around him. Her fingernails dug into his back. Oddly, it crossed his mind to wonder if she was leaving marks on him. The nail marks, surely, would fade in no time. The memory of this night, however, would linger with him for much longer . . . But he spent no more than a second or two thinking about this. He couldn't think much at all, as he was overwhelmed by how close her body was to his, their paired movements, and the feeling of being struck by a lightning bolt of pure happiness.

For a while afterward, they were quiet and still. He was lying on top of her and never wanted to move again in his life. It would be lovely, he thought, if the two of them could stay like this forever, aware of nothing except the tranquil darkness and the sounds of their own breathing. But even as he had that thought, he knew the peace wouldn't last a moment longer.

Allen's shaky whisper broke the silence. "Komui is going to kill me."

Lenalee released a lengthy sigh. She whispered back, "Allen. Are you serious? You have me naked in bed, and you were inside me a minute ago, and you're thinking about my brother?"

"Can you blame me for being concerned about my life? I don't want to die!"

She shushed any further rambling by pulling his face close and kissing his lips. When she drew back a bit, he could both hear and feel her breath. "We'll keep this event a secret. Nobody will know except the two of us. I promise. Will you promise it too?"

"I . . . yes. My lips are sealed on this matter. But I . . . Lenalee, do you like me, or did this only occur because you wanted something fun and I happened to be here in this moment?" He felt weak for asking, but curiosity got the better of him.

Her thumb stroked his face as she answered, "Why am I in this room in the first place? I came to see you after you returned from your mission. Even though you were unconscious and couldn't talk to me, I stuck by your bedside for so long that I eventually fell asleep myself. Isn't that proof of the way I feel about you?"

As her statement sunk in, Allen was gripped by twin emotions. A giddiness that made his heart feel lighter, but then a despair that sunk it back down.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?"

It was difficult to get the words out, but Allen knew he had to say them. "I can't offer to be your boyfriend. With everything going on, I'm so busy that I simply don't have the time to devote to you."

There passed a few long, tense seconds. Allen feared he might have a fight on his hands. But when Lenalee replied, her voice sounded calm. "I wish I could argue, and deny what you're saying, but the truth is I understand. I'm in the same spot as you. With the Order and the war going on and - well, I don't need to explain it to you. Even though you're really making me sad, I have to accept what you said."

"Sorry," he told her again. "In the future, perhaps . . ."

It felt almost impossible to imagine a future where all of the endless battles had finally stopped. Could there really be a time of peace? Would it truly exist someday? Of course, Allen had always believed in that world, or else he wouldn't have fought so hard for so long. But now, lying here with Lenalee, he was filled with more desperation for that future than he'd ever felt before.

Her quiet voice broke the silence one last time. "Perhaps. Yes."

(END)