A/N: What the fluff? :3


At last, they arrived in their room.

The single bed presented itself to the pair, almost mockingly. Its fluffy pillows and warm duvet were excruciatingly tempting to both tired Magic Knights. Charlotte especially wanted nothing more than sink into the bed and worry about the details tomorrow, but the smell of the attacker's magic hung on their clothes.

"Yami-" "Charlotte-"

The captains said, simultaneously. Both looked away in embarrassment, and Yami scratched the back of his messy hair.

"Thank you," she whispered sheepishly.

Once again, Yami had been caught off-guard by the gentleness in Charlotte Roselei's voice. He still couldn't fathom why he felt funny around her. It made no sense to him.

"It was a team effort," he said, "You kicked that Bad Breath Snake's ass and protected me, too."

She blushed, "You did most of the work."

She wanted to keep the conversation going, but exhaustion had been steadily creeping up on her. She grabbed her bag that Yami had set on the dresser. The Black Bulls' captain was confused, "Is it that bad to stay with me?"

He winced right after he realized what he had said, but Yami often spoke without thinking first.

"What?"

"You're grabbing your bag."

Charlotte looked at the bag in her hand and laughed genuinely at Yami's misconception.

"No, Yami, I'm going to take a bath. I obviously can't get dressed with you here, so I'll be bringing my things to the bathroom," she explained, after her small fit of giggles.

Yami's heart fluttered just a smidgen, as he watched the ice-cold Prickly Queen melt into laughter at his worry. He didn't think it was funny, but he didn't mind making her laugh like that.

"She's not so bad," he supposed.


Charlotte efficiently bathed herself and prepared herself for sleep. She was somewhat grateful about that encounter earlier, because she was too tired to let her mind run wild with anxiety at the thought of sleeping in the same room as Yami.

She drifted off into sleep before her head hit her pillow.

Meanwhile, Yami steeled himself for the next battle of his day: the toilet. The washroom was warm and steamy from Charlotte's bath. The mage sat on the porcelain throne, where he contemplated the day's events. He should be focusing on the mission, but all he could think of was how nice it smelled around him. The light fragrance of Charlotte's soap clung to the slowly dissipating mist. It only reminded Yami of their bodies tangled together just an hour ago.

"Why would she hold onto you?" he replayed the events over and over in his mind. "It's obviously because she's trying to survive, idiot."

Just as Charlotte failed to confront her feelings, Yami failed to understand his.

He pondered for a while, then finished his business. He took a quick shower to rid himself of the smell of battle, then headed out the washroom. He wanted to pick Charlotte's brain for some reason, wanted to know exactly where they stand. Does she hate him? Tolerate him?

"Prickly Queen-"

He was met with Charlotte dozing off, her chest steadily rising and falling with each breath. Her blonde hair draped around her face, with her long lashes grazing her rosy cheeks. The smooth, creamy skin of her neck and shoulders exposed. Charlotte looked like the image of a sleeping angel. Yami finally understood why men from all over the kingdom grovelled at her feet.

Charlotte muttered something in her sleep, then shuddered. Yami instinctively reached for the thick duvet and pulled it up to her neck to cover her as gently as he could. He didn't want to wake the sleeping beauty and cause her to panic. While he admired her sleeping face, his hand lingered a touch too long on the duvet. Charlotte mumbled, "Don't go."

How could he say no?