-- A/N  written on complete and utter whim, so don't look for anything to make much sense. If anything REALLY doesn't make sense, write up a review and tell me and I'll look into it. : D… this is my first meryl-perspective fic, methinks, so please be kind in your criticism. She just might be out of character.

more was going to be written here, but I forget. *walks off* *walks back* please review! *runs* --

Colder Than Night

It really is a cold night.

I hug my knees closer to my chest, even though it's uncomfortable because the ground is hard and the sand grinds beneath me. On this planet with two suns and deserts that seem to go on forever, one would think that it would never get cold. But it does; it truly does. Especially at that certain time right before midnight, when everything else around you is asleep except for the stars, and darkness truly begins to settle in. That's when it's the coldest.

It's about that time now.

There's a small sound beside me, a shuffling of the sand as if under a foot, and I suddenly remember that Vash-san sits on this small cliff beside me. With slight discomfort, I remember he's there. A small pang—kind of like a small electric current—runs down my spine, and I recall the events of the day. Watching in horror as Vash-san was pulled behind that truck, watching as that man pointed the gun at him, ready to kill him with hands that shook and eyes that shook with tears, also. And finding myself still, unable to move or do anything to help Vash-san. Until I did do something; something completely incredible, even for me. Not looking at Vash-san, even though I could feel his eyes piercing through my back—right through me—as if focusing on something else. Couldn't feel his eyes on me, but on something else.

Someone else.

But then later, his arms around me. I thought he finally must've realized—stupidly, I thought he knew. I would do anything for him; even put myself at gunpoint for him. Risk my life for him, anything. I honestly thought he knew. I thought he…

Damn.

Trailing off again. How many times tonight have I returned to those events today? I focus on the stars for a bit, forgetting, for the moment, everything around me, even Vash-san. Until his voice, coming out in a small hum, reaches my ears. That song again—always that song. He was singing it as I joined him last night on this same cliff, and he was singing it as he meandered up to this cliff, joining me. I remember his singing stopped immediately as he saw me, looking, for all the world, slightly miffed at my presence up here, as if this were his territory and I didn't belong.

I focus on my knees and hold back a sigh. I'm probably reading too much into it. He's had that expression before and it's never meant anything. Just thinking too much.

His humming stops midway through the song. So abruptly, it sends a chill through me. And I realize, suddenly—it's not the night.

It's him. Suddenly that gap between us appears as a block of ice, and I begin to shiver. His distance, his coldness toward me—even that hug today. All of it cold, still. It's not just the night that's cold, or the desert sand or anything outside. Inside I'm cold, because of his coldness toward me.

I find myself standing up. I do it without realizing, and it startles him. He looks up at me, questioning silently. Those eyes, that expression I decipher immediately through my new revelation. There's kindness there, but no warmth.

No warmth.

God, I'm cold.

"I-I'm going back to the house." Brief, putting a bit more of that cold between us. I turn around quickly—probably more quickly than I should, he might interpret that wrong. Don't want to make anything seem wrong, so I turn around, a smile plastered on my face. "It's getting late—you should head back soon, too."

I leave slowly at first, his eyes firmly on my back until I'm away from that cliff. Then I break into a dead run until I reach the house, where I immediately lock myself in my room, quietly as I can because it's directly across from Millie's room. In this house there were three bedrooms. We thought it most appropriate to each have our own room, although right now I wish I were sharing with Millie. Even if she were sleeping right now, just her presence would put some warmth around me. I need to shake off this cold…

Blankets are warm. My decision to sleep is quick, and I'm immediately over at my closet, finding clothes for the night.

Even as I undress, there's a knock at my door. Knowing immediately that it's Millie—probably had a bad dream or couldn't sleep—I don't rush with my undressing, just say "It's open!" and she comes in. Quietly, as if I might have been asleep. I pull my skirt down from around my waist, letting it fall to the floor carelessly. Millie and I have dressed around each other plenty of times, so I can be careless like that, not having to worry about covering myself up.

I pick up the oversized nightshirt of mine from the bed where I had tossed it, and slip it around my shoulders, finding warmth in it even though it's thin. Millie is still quiet, and hasn't moved an inch since she closed the door behind her. It's starting to bother me a little; Millie would've usually let out some kind of noise by now.

I finish the last button on my shirt. And Vash-san's meet mine as I turn around.

I nearly collapse in a heap on the floor.

But I manage to hold myself together, miraculously. And I take notice of the large spots of red on the cheeks of the gunman, dizzy though I suddenly am. I know exactly what that blush is about, but, instead of feeling that kind of maniac rage I usually would back when I was myself and not the person I am now, I'm filled with a kind of odd embarrassment that makes my knees akin to jelly.

He saw me when he walked in through that door. He saw. And he blushed. It was my body that caused that blush on his face. Just like when he saw one of those women in the streets, his face is red now. But different. Different.

Those cold eyes saw me, and blushed.

I blush myself, and there's a silence between us.

"W-why didn't you tell me it was you…?!" A little bit of anger bubbling to rise as I regain myself and break the silence. "Why didn't you leave the room when you saw me—half-naked?!"

The last two words provoke a startled look for a moment, then a deeper blush. His eyes look away from mine. And I suddenly remember that I don't know why he's even here in the first place.

"Vash-san," I say, my voice conveying the right amount of forgiveness, although I was never entirely angry in the first place. I'm surprised Vash-san hadn't seen my body like that before now, considering all the time that we've traveled together. "What did you need?"

He blinks at me for a moment, looking forgetful, then remembering again his purpose for being here. "Oh." All he can say. He looks away quickly, the blush that had heated his face disappearing. Causing a coldness to settle over again. Unintentionally, I shiver a little as I wait for him to speak again.

I think of that gap between us, as we stand on opposite sides of the room. The only light in the room are the moons filtering in through the window, causing a great deal of dimness to ease into the corners and edges of the room. In this dimness, the space between us—probably be no more than ten feet—seems like a chasm, long and deep and treacherous. And deep inside the shadows of it is ice, coldness. Thinking about it, I shiver again and goose-bumps crawl across my skin, and I hug my arms. And I somehow manage to keep my teeth from chattering.

A soft sound reaches my ears. I hadn't realized that I'd started staring at the floor so intensely. The chasm has disappeared from sight, and in its place is a pair of feet, covered with slippers and padding softly against the wooden floor. I watch those slippers as they advance toward me, and I recall the time I bought those. When we first came to this town, even though I had little spending money left, I bought those slippers for Vash-san. I didn't have any slippers for myself—my last pair had worn out and I couldn't afford another—I bought those for Vash-san, so he'd have them and feel warm when he regained enough strength to walk around the house.

Those slippers come to rest not far away from my own feet. I find myself shivering, still.

"I wanted to…" he murmurs, pausing for a bit. Taking a breath. "I… did something wrong, didn't I?"

I slowly lift my head to meet his eyes, but find that they are focused on the ground, as mine previously were. I allow my head to droop a little, focusing on his chest, instead, and allow myself to think about his question. His question that was said with such innocence, it makes my chest hurt inside.

I can't find the words to answer him. It makes my head spin to think. When I don't reply, for what seems to me a short time but what must seem to him a very long one—every moment seems precious to him—he lets out a sigh.

"You… you went so fast and so suddenly from the cliff…" He lifts his face a little, and I can see his eyebrows are knit together in a kind of worry. "I thought I did something to offend you…"

Why is he so suddenly concerned about my feelings? Never before has he cared whether he offended me or not.

"I never really thanked you…" He lifts his eyes to meet mine, finally.  "Is that why? I never really thanked you, although you risked your life for me…" Those eyes scare me, a little.

Not cold anymore but heated with sudden intensity. Those eyes, looking at me. My throat tightens and I can't speak. Just stare back.

"I'm sorry…" he says after a bit, his voice low and gently sincere. He swallows a little, and places a hand on my shoulder. I'm surprised at the warmth. I'm surprised at how I can feel the hand even through my shirt, how smooth it is and soft it is.

I'm surprised at how the hand on my shoulder is trembling.

"I'm sorry." He says again, firmer. "Thank you for saving my life."

A moment of drawn-out silence between us, and I almost stop breathing.

His hand begins to slip, as do his eyes, toward the floor once more. The hand slips down my arm, his fingertips brushing lightly against the thin fabric of my nightshirt, down to my elbow, my wrist, the palm of my hand, until his fingertips rest lightly against my own, lingering. For a reason I can't explain, that small feeling on my fingertips makes me feel the sudden need to cry. I choke up, and look down at the floor again to hide it.

When the feeling leaves, he begins to leave, also, heading for the door on quiet feet. But there's a sudden urgency in me, an alarm goes off. Don't let him leave! Idiot!

Don't let him leave!

"Vash-san—"

He stops, but doesn't face me. I speak anyway; with a blank mind I speak. "I…"

Want to say it. Need to say it. Vash-san, I'd do anything for you. I'd risk my life a hundred times, kill myself a hundred times, if it'd save you. Because… oh, because… "You're welcome." I love you. "Good night."

Oh god, I love you.

He cracks a gentle smile for me before leaving the room. But I know that when he gets back to his room or where ever he goes, that smile will be gone in an instant. Like mine has disappeared, replaced by a frown that I can't help.

I shiver again. It's cold.

But it's cold inside me. Not just the night.

The tears on my face are far colder than any night could ever be.

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