Disclaimer: *snores, face smashed into the keyboard* *a disgrunted Saraneth reads Crime and Punishment, Jack reclines in the hair falling off Panabelle's head onto her arm, summarizing the book, which is their mistress's homework*
A/N: I've tried reading that book, really I have. But it puts me to sleep. I figured I'd be better off putting my time to use that won't make me enemies. *shrugs* This is what cliff notes are for. *hugs Jack and Neth* And loving muses... *Jack swears colorfully as he tries to get away; Saraneth tries to pry herself loose without crushing her wings*
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Petrified Tears
chapter 81
Something was wrong.
She could see it in his eyes. Those cerulean blue diamonds had gone black, his irises so dark that they seemed an extension of his pupils. She watched him in the mirror, watching as he played idly with the ribbon, his eyes watching her and her movements, looking past the ribbon into himself.
She sighed, then squeaked as she managed to get the brush stuck in her hair.
Fighting with it with childish abandon, she squeaked sobbingly, praying he was too exhausted to notice her plight and thus spare her the humiliation.
Note to self, she thought angrily, tugging, tears forming in the corner of her eyes, Never go on autopilot when you can't remember when the last time you slept was.
Doubled over and pulling for all she was worth, she felt about to sizzle to a crisp and die of embarrassment as gentle hands closed over hers and pried her fingers away from the brush. Slowly, the brush was removed, as if it'd never really been stuck in her hair at all.
Sheepishly she straightened and faced Trunks, whose eyes sparkled a little with laughter, flickering indecisively between bright and dark.
"Sit down," he instructed, hiding his laughter, pointing to the high stool that sat before her vanity. Like an obedient child, she obeyed, starting as he set his hands on her hips and turned her to face the mirror, drawing the brush gently through her hair.
"T-trunks?"
He laughed a little, his fingers moving shyly through her hair.
"I can't show up downstairs with you bald, now can I Panny? How would that look?" She laughed in spite of herself, his fingers gently untangling her mostly-dry hair.
"You know how to do hair?" she asked tauntingly.
His eyes met hers, and life sparked behind them. "Can you really look at my mother's, my sister's, and my own hair and have the audacity to ask that with a straight face?"
She giggled, and watched as the life behind his eyes died.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say this is bothering you, Trunks," she replied, leaning back against his chest as he pulled her bangs forward, glancing up at his eyes in the mirror.
His held hers briefly, but then he glanced back down at her head and drew his fingers along the sides of her temples, separating her hair into two sections: upper and lower.
"What is?"
He knew what she meant. But he was pretending he didn't. Either something was really bothering him, or he didn't want her to know.
She was willing to place big money on a combination of the two.
"This," she repeated. "Tonight, this whole fiancé bit."
His fingers stalled in her hair, and something flashed across his eyes. But the moment passed with a blink, and his fingers returned to the braids he was working into the upper section of midnight. He sighed. Something told her she wasn't going to get the whole truth.
"It is…" His fingers slowed as he pulled the braids and loose hair back into a professional bun, reaching past her to grab at her collection of bobby pins. He sighed. "It's my mom's 'subtle' nudging about how she's not getting any younger. And that I really should be getting married."
He toyed absentmindedly with the end of her hair, oblivious to the way it tickled her and the helpless smile that formed on her lips. She closed her eyes, enjoying the movements of his hands and fingers, the way his actions were shy as if he had no right, but still assertive, as if he did.
She wasn't aware of it at first, but somewhere, dimly, it dawned on her that she was falling asleep. Trunks's voice, speaking quietly and sincerely echoed in her mind. For a brief moment she could have sworn she'd heard him say he loved her, but then it dawned on her that she was dreaming. She struggled into consciousness, hearing him say her name repeatedly, gently patting her cheek to wake her.
"Pan?"
She blinked her eyes and he took a step back, almost causing her to fall off the stool.
"Hmm? I'm sorry, you say something Trunks?"
He blinked, then shook his head with a quiet smile. "Just that we should probably get downstairs," he replied, helping her to her feet. Part of her deflated. She had just been dreaming.
She smiled and started for the door, but froze as his fingers glissed across the bare of her back, his arms reaching over her head, the wide blue ribbon stretched gently between them. His hands moved back towards his own body, the ribbon draping itself across her breasts, but then tightening tenderly against her neck. Her hair was swept out of the way, his fingers moving. She dared to breathe again as she felt the ends of the ribbon grace the skin between her shoulder blades with a nonexistent touch. Trunks gathered her hair back into his hands, settling it back behind her.
Her eyes fluttered as if he had just kissed her, her chest rose and fell visibly. She closed her eyes and brought a hand up to her temple as butterflies clouded her vision, hearing Trunks open the door.
"Panny?" he said gently, his fingers covering hers. Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled sheepishly again. His eyes had softened; they were still dark, but they were a warm blue again, bluer than her own, as they should be. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine…just a little dizzy," she mumbled, offering him a smile, her mind reeling as his fingers covered hers, their two hands intertwining unintentionally.
"Tired?" he asked, pulling his hand away and holding his arm out to her playfully, though he didn't look like he really wanted to play.
She opened her mouth to speak, but then thought better of it. "Yeah," she mumbled quietly, taking his arm and grabbing her purse as they left the room. "Just a little."
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A/N: Yes, it's a miracle. Three updates in 6 days. Don't get used to it. ;P And just to say something: back in the first 20 or so chapters, I wa bitching for reviews because NOBODY reviewed. Then, you will note, I STOPPED. So please, STOP MENTIONING THAT! *screams*
-Panabelle ;P
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