'Promise me.' Her voice was soft and urgent, and her commanding tone showed
slightly. 'Promise me that I'll never be alone.' Her hands were on Folken's
shoulder, gripping them tightly.
Don't ask me, Mystic, Folken thought. He'd never kept a promise in his life.
'Mystic, I can't pro-' Folken's voice broke off as he saw the pleading look in her eyes.
'Please.'
Such a simple word. Mystic's voice was small and beautiful. She sounded like a child. Finally, the revelation hit Folken like a slap in the face. Mystic is but a child. For once she's not the cold, efficient killer that he knew her to be. She was a real person, with emotions and feelings. And right then, she was absolutely terrified and needed someone to tell her that everything was going to be okay. That person, Folken realized, was him.
'I promise.' There. He said it. Strangely, Folken wanted to keep this promise.
Impulsively Folken reached down with his left hand and wiped away her tears. The salty drops burned against his fingertips but he didn't care. He couldn't stop himself right then, even if the Gates to Atlantis reopened, Folken ran his fingers through her silver hair. He looked into her eyes, searching for relief. I need her to regain her composure. Having her so broken and beautiful in my arms is too inviting. Her eyes, with those damned crimson irises. Folken thought. Her eyes were wide and unchanged. That worried Folken greatly.
'Mystic?' Folken asked questioningly. Suddenly she threw her arms around Folken's neck and hugged him roughly. Folken recoiled slightly at the spontaneity of her embrace.
'Thank you,' She whispered into his ear. Folken was stunned. Mystic was never thanked anyone in her life, at least her life with Zaibach, that is. Folken hesitantly wrapped his arms around her body, uncertain of his own actions. She buried her face in the crook of his neck like a baby. Folken allowed himself a small smile. It felt good to be needed.
Kisses.
God no. Folken breathed in sharply as Mystic kissed his neck sweetly. She was mumbling in between her kisses, talking of being lonely. Folken blocked it out. Against this will, Folken relaxed into this embrace. Folken's mind screaming against his body. More kisses. The kisses burned into his flesh like a scorching piece of metal. Folken closed his eyes, guiltily enjoying the forbidden pleasure. God Folken, He told himself, she's just a child, just a child reaching for affection. Unfortunately, his body didn't agree, and he shivered with pleasure at her touch.
Damn.
Mystic pulled away. Folken didn't open his eyes, afraid to look into her deep eyes. Those eyes could swallow him whole, and he couldn't have that then. Folken felt her lips on his face, caressing his teardrop tattoo. Her lips were like a cold flame, it there was such a thing. Folken's eyes sparked and opened unexpectedly. Her eyes, those absorbing crimson eyes were wide and inviting. She caressed his cheek slightly. Her own cheeks were red and flushed. Folken could feel the heat rushing through his body. His resolve was dissolving like sugar in water.
'Poor, beautiful Strategos, you're crying,' Mystic said with a purr. That did it. Everything that had been building up inside of Folken exploded. All the endless nights of mourning for his mistakes, the uncertainties, the constant tension rushed his system with frightening urgency. Folken cupped his hand behind Mystic's neck and lowered his lips to hers. Folken kissed her deeply, more powerful and insistent than he had meant it to be. She responded passionately, although her kisses were more inexperienced than Folken's, her enthusiasm made up for it. Mystic, who Folken had just thought was a child, seemed to be a lot older all of a sudden.
Finally Folken broke off the kiss, his conscience screaming in his head. Mystic looked at him hazily, then she kissed him again, her lips fervent and tasting lightly of wine. Gently, Folken pulled back his head and looked away.
'I can't.' Folken said. Folken knew it sounded stupid and weak but it was all he could manage at the moment.
Mystic leaned back and looked at him haughtily with her commanding manner that was all her own. Inwardly, Folken smiled; this was the Mystic he knew.
'Why not?' She asked silkily, 'Aren't I good enough for you Folken? Aren't I beautiful enough?' Before Folken could answer, her hands cupped his face and she gently shifted his head to meet her gaze. Folken allowed it, even though he knew he shouldn't. He realized he wanted to look at her; drink in that translucent beauty.
Mystic's eyes were burning imploringly. 'I know you're lonely Strategos. I watch you when you're not looking. You stay up late every night working on your experiments while whistling those god awful mournful tunes. You're not happy, Folken I.' She stopped and kissed his throat, sending shivers down his spine, '.Can.' Her lips moved across to Folken's jaw. God this is so dreadfully wonderful, Folken thought. '.Make...' She kissed his temple. Folken closed his eyes, trying to block out the burning sensation her lips left upon his skin. '.You.'
Her voice was urgent, but she kisses the corner of Folken's eye languorously. Folken bit his lip, stopping a traitorous moan in it tracks. '.Happy.' She kissed his mouth softly with so much promise in her lips that Folken was driven almost the point of madness.
Folken was horrified with himself. Emotions surged through him and he foolishly kissed Mystic back. Brazenly he ran his hands over her back and brought her closer to him. This is what I want, and she knows that, Folken thought.
Slowly, he moved his mouth from her lips and wetly kissed her tear- stained cheeks. Gently he moved his lips down and nuzzled her neck - excited, horrified, and completely bewildered by his actions. Mystic cried out a little in delight, then folded her body into Folken's. Running her hands down his chest she unclasped his jacket and slipped it from his body. Her touch was hot and burned into Folken's soul. Warning bells signaled somewhere deep within Folken's conscience.
Quickly Folken pulled away, gasping a little. Mystic smiled brightly at him, running her graceful fingers through his hair. She chuckled lightly, a twittering sound that was completely foreign to Folken. It was not her usual laughter, but something innocent and beautiful. Mystic, innocent? 'Not if I can help it,' said some lecherous voice in Folken's brain. Folken quieted it and reasserted his purpose.
'We should stop,' Folken barely whispered with revealing reluctance. Even in his whisper, Folken noticed that his voice had taken on an even huskier note. He smiled inwardly, amused that his voice could actually deepen.
'Oh now Strategos, that is where you are wrong. Please, for once let me teach,' Mystic said, covering Folken's shoulder with persuasive kisses. Folken gathered all of his willpower and pulled her off of his chest.
'You cannot be serious,' Folken said to her, not believing his own words. Mystic looked at him with hungry, crimson eyes. Eyes that matched Folken's.
'My beautiful Folken,' she said tenderly, 'You know I don't make jokes.' And with that she pressed against Folken with surprising strength. Folken felt his arms encircled her as they gently fell to the ground, and then they're worlds dissolved into bliss.
Now, Folken lay there in his own bed, looking at a sleeping angel. How Mystic and he had ended up in his bed was a total mystery to him. Folken smiled. Life had its many mysteries.
Gently Folken leaned down and kissed Mystic's slumbering lips. She cooed softly in her sleep and snuggled against Folken. Folken readily accepted her warmth. The chilly Vione air made Folken's skin prickle with goose bumps. Slowly he straightened and pulled the twisted sheets up and covered both their bodies.
Folken sighed with immense pleasure and looked down yet again at Mystic's sleeping face. She looked like a whole different individual without the shield of the Zaibach uniforms. Angels, Folken thought, should not be put into armor. After spending a few more minutes drinking in her beauty Folken closed his own eyes. He felt more spent then he'd ever felt in his entire life.
Where this impulsive night is taking me, I don't know. It might affect my life greatly, and it might not. All I know is all I want right now is to hold this angel in my arms and fall asleep with her by my side, Folken thought contently as he drifted into a deep, contented, sleep.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
AN: I also changed this chapter a little bit from its original.
Don't ask me, Mystic, Folken thought. He'd never kept a promise in his life.
'Mystic, I can't pro-' Folken's voice broke off as he saw the pleading look in her eyes.
'Please.'
Such a simple word. Mystic's voice was small and beautiful. She sounded like a child. Finally, the revelation hit Folken like a slap in the face. Mystic is but a child. For once she's not the cold, efficient killer that he knew her to be. She was a real person, with emotions and feelings. And right then, she was absolutely terrified and needed someone to tell her that everything was going to be okay. That person, Folken realized, was him.
'I promise.' There. He said it. Strangely, Folken wanted to keep this promise.
Impulsively Folken reached down with his left hand and wiped away her tears. The salty drops burned against his fingertips but he didn't care. He couldn't stop himself right then, even if the Gates to Atlantis reopened, Folken ran his fingers through her silver hair. He looked into her eyes, searching for relief. I need her to regain her composure. Having her so broken and beautiful in my arms is too inviting. Her eyes, with those damned crimson irises. Folken thought. Her eyes were wide and unchanged. That worried Folken greatly.
'Mystic?' Folken asked questioningly. Suddenly she threw her arms around Folken's neck and hugged him roughly. Folken recoiled slightly at the spontaneity of her embrace.
'Thank you,' She whispered into his ear. Folken was stunned. Mystic was never thanked anyone in her life, at least her life with Zaibach, that is. Folken hesitantly wrapped his arms around her body, uncertain of his own actions. She buried her face in the crook of his neck like a baby. Folken allowed himself a small smile. It felt good to be needed.
Kisses.
God no. Folken breathed in sharply as Mystic kissed his neck sweetly. She was mumbling in between her kisses, talking of being lonely. Folken blocked it out. Against this will, Folken relaxed into this embrace. Folken's mind screaming against his body. More kisses. The kisses burned into his flesh like a scorching piece of metal. Folken closed his eyes, guiltily enjoying the forbidden pleasure. God Folken, He told himself, she's just a child, just a child reaching for affection. Unfortunately, his body didn't agree, and he shivered with pleasure at her touch.
Damn.
Mystic pulled away. Folken didn't open his eyes, afraid to look into her deep eyes. Those eyes could swallow him whole, and he couldn't have that then. Folken felt her lips on his face, caressing his teardrop tattoo. Her lips were like a cold flame, it there was such a thing. Folken's eyes sparked and opened unexpectedly. Her eyes, those absorbing crimson eyes were wide and inviting. She caressed his cheek slightly. Her own cheeks were red and flushed. Folken could feel the heat rushing through his body. His resolve was dissolving like sugar in water.
'Poor, beautiful Strategos, you're crying,' Mystic said with a purr. That did it. Everything that had been building up inside of Folken exploded. All the endless nights of mourning for his mistakes, the uncertainties, the constant tension rushed his system with frightening urgency. Folken cupped his hand behind Mystic's neck and lowered his lips to hers. Folken kissed her deeply, more powerful and insistent than he had meant it to be. She responded passionately, although her kisses were more inexperienced than Folken's, her enthusiasm made up for it. Mystic, who Folken had just thought was a child, seemed to be a lot older all of a sudden.
Finally Folken broke off the kiss, his conscience screaming in his head. Mystic looked at him hazily, then she kissed him again, her lips fervent and tasting lightly of wine. Gently, Folken pulled back his head and looked away.
'I can't.' Folken said. Folken knew it sounded stupid and weak but it was all he could manage at the moment.
Mystic leaned back and looked at him haughtily with her commanding manner that was all her own. Inwardly, Folken smiled; this was the Mystic he knew.
'Why not?' She asked silkily, 'Aren't I good enough for you Folken? Aren't I beautiful enough?' Before Folken could answer, her hands cupped his face and she gently shifted his head to meet her gaze. Folken allowed it, even though he knew he shouldn't. He realized he wanted to look at her; drink in that translucent beauty.
Mystic's eyes were burning imploringly. 'I know you're lonely Strategos. I watch you when you're not looking. You stay up late every night working on your experiments while whistling those god awful mournful tunes. You're not happy, Folken I.' She stopped and kissed his throat, sending shivers down his spine, '.Can.' Her lips moved across to Folken's jaw. God this is so dreadfully wonderful, Folken thought. '.Make...' She kissed his temple. Folken closed his eyes, trying to block out the burning sensation her lips left upon his skin. '.You.'
Her voice was urgent, but she kisses the corner of Folken's eye languorously. Folken bit his lip, stopping a traitorous moan in it tracks. '.Happy.' She kissed his mouth softly with so much promise in her lips that Folken was driven almost the point of madness.
Folken was horrified with himself. Emotions surged through him and he foolishly kissed Mystic back. Brazenly he ran his hands over her back and brought her closer to him. This is what I want, and she knows that, Folken thought.
Slowly, he moved his mouth from her lips and wetly kissed her tear- stained cheeks. Gently he moved his lips down and nuzzled her neck - excited, horrified, and completely bewildered by his actions. Mystic cried out a little in delight, then folded her body into Folken's. Running her hands down his chest she unclasped his jacket and slipped it from his body. Her touch was hot and burned into Folken's soul. Warning bells signaled somewhere deep within Folken's conscience.
Quickly Folken pulled away, gasping a little. Mystic smiled brightly at him, running her graceful fingers through his hair. She chuckled lightly, a twittering sound that was completely foreign to Folken. It was not her usual laughter, but something innocent and beautiful. Mystic, innocent? 'Not if I can help it,' said some lecherous voice in Folken's brain. Folken quieted it and reasserted his purpose.
'We should stop,' Folken barely whispered with revealing reluctance. Even in his whisper, Folken noticed that his voice had taken on an even huskier note. He smiled inwardly, amused that his voice could actually deepen.
'Oh now Strategos, that is where you are wrong. Please, for once let me teach,' Mystic said, covering Folken's shoulder with persuasive kisses. Folken gathered all of his willpower and pulled her off of his chest.
'You cannot be serious,' Folken said to her, not believing his own words. Mystic looked at him with hungry, crimson eyes. Eyes that matched Folken's.
'My beautiful Folken,' she said tenderly, 'You know I don't make jokes.' And with that she pressed against Folken with surprising strength. Folken felt his arms encircled her as they gently fell to the ground, and then they're worlds dissolved into bliss.
Now, Folken lay there in his own bed, looking at a sleeping angel. How Mystic and he had ended up in his bed was a total mystery to him. Folken smiled. Life had its many mysteries.
Gently Folken leaned down and kissed Mystic's slumbering lips. She cooed softly in her sleep and snuggled against Folken. Folken readily accepted her warmth. The chilly Vione air made Folken's skin prickle with goose bumps. Slowly he straightened and pulled the twisted sheets up and covered both their bodies.
Folken sighed with immense pleasure and looked down yet again at Mystic's sleeping face. She looked like a whole different individual without the shield of the Zaibach uniforms. Angels, Folken thought, should not be put into armor. After spending a few more minutes drinking in her beauty Folken closed his own eyes. He felt more spent then he'd ever felt in his entire life.
Where this impulsive night is taking me, I don't know. It might affect my life greatly, and it might not. All I know is all I want right now is to hold this angel in my arms and fall asleep with her by my side, Folken thought contently as he drifted into a deep, contented, sleep.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
AN: I also changed this chapter a little bit from its original.