Disclaimer: Sorry. Nothing creative today. Here's my Chibi Trunks action figure and Jack in little pink leotards to entertain you. *Jack holds a sign reading: "She is so going to die for this."*

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Petrified Tears
chapter 105



Somehow, the night had slipped away form him.

He really didn't know how, the night had gone like any other night: mingle with people he hadn't seen in forever, dance, drink, make merry. But something was different.

At some point, the rest of the world just seemed to fade from existence.

Maybe it was exhaustion, the first real chance to unwind after more than seven straight days of stress. Maybe it was the atmosphere, the open air and friends, with no obligations.

Or maybe it was something else.

Someone else.

"I thought you hated dancing."

He shrugged, firmly placing a hand in the small of her back, spinning them both around the outskirts of the back porch that had been reserved for dancing. "I don't like dancing in public," he replied as she giggled, their knees banging lightly together as they both seemed to have forgotten the steps. "Feels too much like everyone's staring at me."

"People usually are staring at you," she pointed out, eyes twinkling as she pushed out their arms in a mock tango stance. Laughing himself, he joined her as they plunged and wove into the crowds on the dance floor, acting much like children who had grown bored with the conventional means of entertainment for the night.

"I'd have thought you'd be used to it," she added.

"Pride of steel," he admitted, blushing a little as they reclaimed their spot of floor near the apple trees. "Hate it. But there's no one else to do it."

She smiled, the sparkle in her eyes reflecting the sparkle in his own. His heart seemed to sigh and he drew her into a hug as they slowed to a slight shuffling of feet, wrapping his arms around her, pushing his face into the crook of her neck.

"I missed you," he whispered, feeling her suddenly stiff body relax against him, her arms encircling his neck, face nuzzling into his shoulder.

"I missed you too, you big oaf," she mumbled back.

Time lost meaning to him then, as they held each other there on the edge of the dance floor, a million faceless people whom he knew surrounding them, a million faceless people whom he couldn't see. He held her tighter, turning his cheek against hers, looking away over her shoulder as he tried to name the sudden strength that filled him.

A strength he'd almost forgotten, had almost never even known was there.

His heart skipped a beat as she snuggled closer against him, his hands slipping across silk as he tried to hold her as close to him as he could, as if he could combine their hearts, turn two into a single heartbeat. Smiling and slightly scared, he lifted a hand and cupped her shoulder, glissing his thumb across the soft porcelain that was the only clue to the delicate and fragile feelings within. Eyes lingered her the tattoo, the subtle and light shading of the four-star dragonball, a newborn Wish Granter wrapped around it, his head on his forearms, sleeping peacefully. He seemed to be looking through a dream, but the ethereal vision was as real as the girl in his arms.

He smiled with the cadence of his heart, glissing his thumb once more across her skin before wrapping both arms back around her. He had missed the steady rhythm of his heart, had missed the warm feeling that filled him. Had missed the way it raced when she was near, when he held her, the way he could hear every pulse, feel every throb, count every beat.

She wasn't asleep, but she wasn't exactly aware of herself either. She was comfortable in his arms, and he was with her in them. It felt right to him. He nuzzled her ear a little with his nose, blue eyes closing as black hair tickled his face, feeling her giggle quietly to herself.

How were they so used to each other? When had they gotten so close? Why did she let him hold her like this?

What could he do to hold her like this forever?

Would you? If you could hold her in your arms and feel the world slip away?

He smiled nervously, azure eyes looking down at the sleeping Wish Granter. She shifted in his arms, seeming to pull away. Panic shot through his heart, a quick stab that punctured his soul. Time hit him full in the face at the moment, slapping him with the reality that time was slipping away from him.

That she was slipping away from him.

Already four years had passed, already she was more a woman than he was a man.

But would you?

He lifted his head, letting her pull back and stand at arms' length, her hands on his upper arms, his cupping her hips. She tossed her head, knocking strands of midnight from blue eyes deeper than any sky.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, eyes moving to where her family stood, waiting for her. His eyes probed hers, his heart beating slowly, painfully, searching for something in her own deep blue eyes…

"What is it?" she prodded. She was worried now, she wouldn't leave before she knew what was wrong.

But nothing was wrong, nothing at all. Everything is so incredibly right, he wanted to tell her, but his voice was failing him; he opened his mouth, but no sound came out, only air came in. Everything was wonderfully right for the first time in a long time.

He just didn't know how to tell her that.

Didn't know if he could.

Concerned, she lifted her hand, resting the inner side of her wrist against his forehead; he'd lost, he knew it in that instant. All the battles he'd fought with himself since the night he'd first touched those lips, all of the battles he'd fought within, he'd lost.

Meekly, he reached up, grasping her hand, gently clutching her fingers in his. Her eyes drifted to their hands as he let go of her, tracing the faint, crescent-shaped scars in the soft white skin of her palm.

She opened her mouth again, opened her mouth to ask him one last time, and he smiled, lifting blue eyes to meet bluer, memorizing the way she looked at that instant: eyes painted dark in the shadows that they hid under and full of white stars, hair the color of midnight in all her seasons. Her lips formed a worried smile and he pulled her to him, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, holding her tightly as if he'd never get to hold her again.

"What's wrong?" she whispered into his chest, planting both hands into his chest, breaking the embrace. The aggravated fury in her eyes at his evasiveness faded into nothing as she met his gaze, her hands and arms losing a little bit of their strength between them. "What are you…" She trailed off, as if sensing that stopping him now would stop him forever, as if she knew that they'd never stand like this again.

Not like this, never exactly like this.

A smile kissed his lips, the first real smile he'd given her in a long time; a slight upturning of his lips, no malice or humor in the expression, just melancholy acceptance.

Acceptance of a rejection he knew he could never avoid.

"I love you."

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-Panabelle ;P
All is coming to an end, but there are new beginnings beyond the horizon.