After about fifteen minutes, Gabrielle got out of the shower. She set to work drying off and making her hair fall into place, when she realized she'd forgotten the housecoat just outside the bathroom door. Perfect. She couldn't use the towel again, because it was soaking wet and she didn't have another one to dry off with. Great. She realized she'd have to venture outside and get the housecoat. She prayed it was only a foot or so away from the door, but she wasn't quite sure. She thought he'd left, because there was no noise coming from outside the bathroom door.
She opened the door about to feet, and looked straight across the wall. There it was, sitting folded up on a chest a few feet across from her. She stuck her upper body out and rached for it, a little bit of the water dripping from her hair making a small plip, plip, plip noise on the linoleum just before the bathroom door. She had just about reached it, when she saw out of the corner of her eye, Dilandau.
He was staring dumbly at her, his eyes widened just slightly, and he was blushing. "Gyah!" She yelped and snapped back into the bathroom faster than a retracting cobra, slamming the door shut behind her. Her heart was beating fast.
"Um," He said. "You wanted your housecoat? Sorry, I didn't mean to..." He started. "Should I pass it to you?" He asked. "Yes, please, just don't look in, okay?" She pleaded. "Alright." He replied, and he picked up the silvery silk-like housecoat. He opened the door lightly. He swung his head around to look the other way, but by no fault of his own was a mirror placed where he was looking. He caught her reflection for just a split second, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Another very strange feeling welled up inside him, along with the regular feeling in his chest. This was too strange. It joined and merged with the regular feeling inside his chest, kind of tingly in a weird way. She took the housecoat and he stepped away from the steaming bathroom door's opening. He was breathing a bit quicker than normally.
Good Gods! What was that!? He thought at himself. I... Still feel that feeling! What is it? He wondered, looking back at the closed door. I want to see her like that again... Why? I want to be with her right now... Right now. Now. Close. Very close. Extremely close. Why? Why? Argh! He exclaimed to himself. Why do I feel this way? Can't somebody tell me? He asked himself over and over, but he couldn't come up with an answer. That weird feeling was a little stronger. It grew inside him. He looked at the closed door again. No click of the handle. He wanted to be with her so badly. He stared at the doorknob. Still nothing. He wanted to so badly! He stared at it intensely, and the feeling grew. He tore his gaze from the door. A watched pot never boils. He reminded himself.
He took up a bottle of wine and read the label. He popped the cork and took out a glass, several of which he kept in a drawer. He wasn't an alcoholic, but he liked red wine. He poured the dark red liquid into the glass, and then replaced the bottle on the rack. Absent mindedly he ran his finger along the crystal rim, making the glass hum. Click.
The door opened, and Gabrielle emerged in the silver silky material housecoat, the top tied at a good tightness, but she still smoothed the flap over anyways. She was embarassed, and she didn't want a repeat. "I'm really sorry, I didn't notice you were still here. I embarassed you, and I'm sorry." She apologized. "Don't be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. You didn't embarass me." He said. "You were blushing." She said flatly. "Well, I think that was from a different feeling." He said, and hadn't realized what he'd said. She blushed and looked away, and her hand rose up to cover her mouth and the bridge of her nose. "Oh!" She said. He cleared his throat. "Um. Want some wine?" He asked.
"I don't really drink, but I'll try some." She said. He took out another glass and poured some. He passed it to her. "Thanks." She said as she accepted it from his hands. She took a very small sip, and winced at the sour, bitter taste that filled her mouth. She swallowed heavily. "You don't like it?" He asked with a tilt of his head. "I don't drink much, so I haven't developed a liking for it." She said shyly. She hoped she hadn't offended him. "Oh, it's just an acquired taste." He said simply. "What is it you don't like about it?" He asked, simply out of curiosity. "I don't find it sweet enough. It's too sour and bitter." She explained. "There are sweeter varieties. I just don't drink them. Some are too sweet." He said, and shrugged his shoulder.
"I should get going back to my quarters." She said. "It's getting late, and I'm probably annoying you." She said. "Not at all, Gabrielle." He said. "I like it when you're here. You are the only person I can talk to." He said as he sipped the wine. "Thanks." She said shyly. "Stay as long as you want." He said. "I won't be offended if you want to leave." He added. She smiled softly.
"So... How long are you going to stay for?" He asked. "I don't know. I can go if you want me to." She said quietly. "No, I want you to stay." He insisted. "Well," "Please. Just a little while. I have to go to the Scientists tomorrow morning... And... I want to see you. You... I don't know. Make me feel... Different." He said, choosing his words carefully, but still confused at how he phrased it. "I feel calm when I'm with you. Yet not. I don't know what I feel. I don't understand it." He said, dismissing his feelings. Gabrielle was silent. She didn't know what to say to this. She detected his nervousness.
"I know what they're going to do, and having you around for a little while makes me feel better." He said, glancing at the wall. "What are they going to do to you?" She asked. "Jar my memory, try to make me remember where I came from. Test my limits for pain, and then make me see things, to find out what I'm afraid of. They drug me up and I don't know what I do or say at the time, but I remember it later. I'm not supposed to remember, though. I've never told about that. Anyways, they're going to hurt me again. Having you around for a while before it calms me down." He explained, and placed the empty wine glass on the little table by the bed. "Soon, they're going to do the same to you, I think. Make you like me. And I don't want them to." He said, with a concerned, dispaired look that she'd never seen before. "Oh, Dilandau..." She said very quietly, and his gaze turned to meet hers.
Say it! His mind screamed at him. He suddenly found himself mute. Say it! Say it! Say it now! His mind burst insanely. He feared he might blush. He put one cold hand to his face, and he rested his elbow on his knee. As he looked at her in the silver patterned night coat, gazing softly back at him, the new strange feeling made itself known to him again. He found a want within him to touch her gently and kiss her. He found a want to tell her how he felt. Not a want... A need within him that was growing by the second. He sat cross-legged on the bed, just a few inches from her, who sat on the edge of it in a polite, good-postured position.
One long leg was crossed over the other, and her hands were folded neatly in the long silver sleeves. Only her bare feet were exposed, her hands, and her head and neck, but he could see her shape. The ribbon was tightly secure about her waist, and the long, flowing dress part draped flatteringly over her slim form. Her hair was still slightly wet from the shower, and it hung softly, nicely combed at shoulder length. Her startlingly blue eyes looked out kindly at him. He looked at her sublime hourglass-like shape, and he felt he wanted to feel those curves. He needed to. He swallowed. Had those damned furnace workers turned up the heat in here? It felt warmer than normal... A lot warmer. The heat seemed to wash over him, and he let it.
"Did anyone ever tell you that you're extremely beautiful?" He asked her in a small voice. She smiled shyly and looked at the floor. "No, nobody ever has." She said. "Well, they should. You are absolutely gorgeous." He said, not even knowing he said it out loud. She thanked him shyly with a little blush. He absent mindedly picked up the wine glass and made the rim hum again. "Habit?" She asked him with a small smile. "Hmm?" He asked. He was too infatuated.
"You look tired, Dilandau." She said after a moment, a trifle unsettled by his fixating stare. She shifted her weight, and uncrossed her legs. "... Dilandau." She said. "Hnah?" He asked dreamily. He was drinking her all in, it seemed, watching with careful observance every move she made. "Dil-an-dau," She said in a sort of low sing-song voice. "Hello." She said. Still no answer. She moved closer to him. "Hey," She said softly, and his gaze followed hers. "Are you in a trance or something? What's wrong with you?" She asked him.
"Nothing, Gabrielle." He replied decisively, as if very far off and it was hard for him to hear her and reply. He placed one hand on her cheek and kissed her slowly, loving every second of it. He pulled back, his eyes still shut gently. "I have waited almost all night to do that," He said, totally and completely in love with her, and what was more was that he didn't even know it. He still didn't understand his feelings, but he knew he felt them.
The cut on Gabrielle's face stung intense and horrible. Yet, when Dilandau had touched it, the pain had dissipated altogether. Once he had brushed her cheek and let go, the pain began to steadily return. She touched it. It had a strange kind of pain, the kind where it is ticklish and feels like it's full of pins. She took her hand away, and there was some blood on the fingertips of her middle and ring finger. The tickly pain receded, and the sharp regular pain returned. The pain on her arm, where she'd also been cut, hurt less. It had stopped bleeding and she'd cleaned it well in the shower.
"You should put a bandage on that. I had a cut like that once. It left this." He said disgustedly, as he pointed to the scar on the right side of his face. "It's hideous and I hate it." He said. "Oh, I don't know... I find it kind of... sexy." Gabrielle said in a soft tone. "I've always hated it. I treat it like a disfigurement." He said, and touched it. "Well, don't. Work with it." She said with a smile. "I'll have to get used to mine if it leaves a scar." She said, shrugging a shoulder.
"Well, Dilandau, I'm very tired, and I should go now." She said. "Oh." He said, his mood falling. He looked so alone that she felt sorry for him. "Your clothes were laundered." He said sadly. "Thanks, Dilandau." She said. "Yeah. Well, I guess I'll go to bed, too." He said, covering his disappointment with a flat voice. She had realized that was how he disguised emotions. He talked flatly. He stood up. "You know where your quarters are now." He said, his voice as flat as ever. "They'll be delivered to your door in the morning so-" He hushed when she hugged him. "Takeru yume. Oyasuminasai." She said quietly to him in Japanese. It meant something akin to 'Sweet dreams and goodnight.' "I didn't know you co-" She kissed him, and he shut his eyes. She separated from him with a touch as light as that of a feather, and turned to the door.
"Goodnight," She said, and left, leaving him standing there with a pile of raging hormones. He stood, rooted in the spot for a moment. He finally gathered his sense of reality and went to the bathroom to clean himself up before he went to bed. After a while, he came out of the bathroom in a different, informal pair of pants and slipped in between the silk covers. He had a partial to silk. He picked up a small book and began to write in it. After a few minutes of rapid writing, he replaced the book and pen in the drawer and leaned back, shutting off the light.
He crossed his hands behind his head, and looked out the window in his room. It displayed a dark night sky. Clouds occassionally drifted by. He sighed. He watched the glittering stars for a moment more, and thought of Gabrielle before he went to sleep. His angel. His, and nobody else's...
Gabrielle padded down the empty hallways at a slow pace. She wasn't in a hurry. Her feet made a very light noise on the cold ground. She shivered, and turned a hallway corner. She stopped for a second. The heavy silence seemed to weigh down on her, almost like it was a taboo to make a noise. She heard clicking footsteps behind her. She half turned her head. Someone in a blue and black uniform was walking down the hallway, his head down, muttering to himself. She resumed walking, and his head snapped up at the sound of shifting fabric.
"Gabrielle!" The boy behind her said, surprised. "Yes?" She asked politely, turning to face him. "Oh, hello, Gatti." She said with a polite smile. "Hi. Why aren't you in uniform?" He asked, curious. "I just came back from the showers." She replied. "Now I'm heading back to my quarters." She explained. "Oh. I'm going to mine, too. I just got back... My mecha got a pretty hard punch in the engines today." He said, embarassed at the memory.
"About what I said, I-" He started, glancing nervously behind him. "Gatti, it's okay. Dilandau's not around. Why do you bring this up?" She asked in a polite tone, suggesting that he could change the topic easily if he wanted. "I meant what I said to you." He said, and looked at the floor. A small blush appeared on each other's faces. "Gatti, I'm flattered. I really am," She said. He smiled shakily. "And I wanted to know if you would come with me to dinner sometime. Away from the group." He continued, barely able to spit it out.
Uh-oh. What do I do? If I accept, I make him happy, but Dilandau will have poor Gatti's head. If I refuse, I crush this boy's feelings... And I know only too well what that feels like... Think fast, Gabrielle. You've always been quick on your feet... She thought rapidly, disguising her mental figuring with a smile and a polite bow as was customary. Gatti stood nervously, fidgeting and awaiting her response.
"Please accept, Gabrielle. I just want to talk to you... And, um, maybe... Go out again... Sometime... Just to talk, you know." He said rapidly, but there was a hint of eager desperation in his voice. "Okay, Gatti. Just as friends, alright?" She said, and he nodded happily. "Okay! I'll go now... So, I'll see you this morning, and then we can eat together tomorrow evening?" He asked. "Yes. Sounds good, Gatti." She said, "I must be going now," She said, and she turned around, her combed hair swinging with the fabric of the dress, unwittingly amost making Gatti salivate.
She went to her quarters and lay down. You cheat. A voice snarled at her. She disagreed with this voice. She wasn't even together with Dilandau, and she was only seeing Gatti as a friend. When Dilandau questions this, because it's only a matter of time before he finds out, Gabrielle would back up Gatti. She confirmed this, and fell asleep.
In the morning, they were gathered around a table for breakfast. She waited patiently for the slop. Maybe, if she held her breath and plugged her nose, she could down some of the stuff. The meals were eventually served, and she stared at hers, her nerve lost.
"My lord, do you think it's possible I could talk to Gabrielle alone this evening?" Gatti asked very quietly. Dilandau's eyes flicked up from the table to burn in his gaze. "Excuse me?" Dilandau said, standing up. "Repeat yourself. Clarify." He said, advancing towards him. Gatti repeated himself. Dilandau backed Gatti up a bit from the table. "Why?" He spat at Gatti, and Gabrielle stood up, unnoticed by the two of them. She went to stand by them. "J-just as friends, sir. I asked your permission. I just wanted to talk to her, sir." Gatti asked, and any lesser soul would have cowered. Dilandau seethed with rage at the very suggestion, and he aimed a slap. At that very moment, Gabrielle stepped in between them, and she voluntarily recieved the heavy slap meant for Gatti.
Her canine tooth cut open part of the inside of her cheek from the impact, and she swallowed some of the metallic, salty blood. The pain from the wound inside her mouth and from the hard slap washed over her, the sting on her face remaining. Her head had snapped to the left when he'd hit her, and she could tell that the muscle was probably pulled. She let out a very small whimper and spat out a mouthful of blood onto the floor. Dilandau was absolutely horrified. He didn't know what to do.
"I hit you." He said dumbly. She put one cold hand to her face that seemed to be gently pulsating with the hot aftermath of pain. Her mouth was still bleeding. She swallowed some more blood, but when she couldn't stand the taste anymore, she spat it on the floor. "Obviously." Gatti said. "It was just as friends, Dilandau." She said, some of her speech garbled because of the bleeding in her mouth. She stepped back from them. "Friends." She said, spitting out another mouthful of blood. "I'll be back." She said, and she walked out of the room.
There was a stunned, angry silence amongst all of the Dragonslayers. Dilandau was stupefied at what he'd done. He'd hit her. He'd hit his angel. How could he? He hadn't realized she had been there until it was too late. Chesta fumed. He looked Dilandau square in the eye. "What!?" Dilandau practically shrieked at him. He turned to all of them. "It was an accident! I didn't mean to hit her, I-" He stopped talking. They all stared at him darkly. "I..." He trailed off, for lack of any further excuses. Gatti was the most angry of all.
"She took that for me." He said, amazed. "But..." Dilandau said, almost underneath his breath. He lifted his gaze from the floor, looking quite lost. "She's mine..." He said, and looked into the doorway where she had gone. "She..." He started to say, and Gatti cut him off. "Is a beautiful, kind angel, unspoiled and true, and the likes of you don't deserve someone like that! Ever!" By the end of his statement, Gatti was nearly screaming. He was wild eyed, and his face had gone a little extra coloured. Dilandau stood stock still. One tiny muscle that controlled his bottom eyelid twitched, but not from anger. He blinked.
"You're right." Dilandau said, so quietly that it was barely a whispered breath, but they heard him. He looked at the floor to his left. "You're right."He repeated. He took a step backwards. Gatti still stood, still pointing accusingly at Dilandau. "T-that's right, I'm right!" He stuttered, nervously saying this. Dilandau took another step backwards and paused. He looked at all of them again, staring with a cold anger he'd never seen before in them. "N-no, I-" Dilandau began. "Don't even speak, you filthy, mangy cur!" Gatti screeched, regaining his fury. Dilandau seemed to wince as if every word was a landed blow. "You could never understand something like that. She is beautiful, intelligent, and look what she did! She barely knows me, and she protected me. Someone like you could never understand that. Doubtless you are attracted to her, and I do not blame you for that. Every single one of us who sits in this room right now is. But I blame you for you. You! I can't even describe it! Simple words don't fill the blank! As I said, and I reiterate, you will never have her, because fate won't allow scum like you to have the privilege of being with such a beauteous creature! You didn't, don't, and never will deserve her." Gatti snarled at Dilandau, and he backed up further, his body cast into shadows.
The room was silent. Not anything was heard, until the small, sharp intake of a breath, and the sound of a boot turning. Diminishing footsteps were heard, growing fainter and fainter into the darkness. A small, circular drop of water on the stone ground in the spot where Dilandau had stood was the only remaining sign of him. Just one, and no bigger than the size of a mouse's paw. The room stayed silent.
"Gatti, was that really necessary?" Chesta asked in a lamb-soft voice. Gatti was shaking still, and he let his tensed body relax. "I don't know, Chesta. I don't know what made me do it. I just had to, and then the words were just coming forth. Chesta, he's going to kill me now. And what of Gabrielle? She'll hate me, too." Gatti's gaze fixed on the shadowy exit. "Where do you suppose he's going?" Dalet asked. "Don't know. Never seen him with... An emotion before, well, other than anger of course." Chesta said. "I don't think you should have said all that." Guimel finally spoke. "Well, no shit, Sheep Boy!" Migel roared at him, and then paid attention to the others' conversation. Guimel rolled his blue eyes and stood up, unnoticed. He followed the dark path Dilandau had taken.
Guimel did his best to keep noise to a minimum, but just enough so that if Dilandau was ahead, he could hear him approaching. Guimel occassionally called out his master's name, but there was no reply, only an odd breeze now and then, sometimes an echo of a far-off noise.
After about ten minutes more of wandering after his master, Guimel saw a brighter light through the dim passageways. The noises became a little clearer to him. He made no noise as he tread up to the light. He slowly and cautiously peered around the corner.
There was a piteous sight, and one that made Guimel feel uneasy. His master had never done anything like this remotely. Ever. It was Dilandau, sitting on his knees in front of a statue. He was holding himself up with his arms. He was facing away from Guimel, and he observed that Dilandau's shoulders were shaking. He made a sort of coughing sound, although it wasn't coughing. Guimel listened closer. Dilandau was... Was... Crying. Dilandau shifted his weight and sat cross legged, his back still to Guimel, not noticing his prescence. He was trying to subdue his crying, but it wasn't really working. He held a hand over his own mouth, but that didn't seem to work much either. He rocked slightly forwards and backwards, still crying softly, his arms crossed, folded tightly to his body. His tall, thin frame looked smaller to Guimel as he looked upon him.
Guimel backed up just as quietly as he had came, and when he was a fair distance away, he called Dilandau's name again, and made his footsteps quite loud enough that they were perfectly audible to Dilandau. "Dilandau?" He called. Dilandau's mind's eye seared and disappeared with that weird vision of the long haired little girl... So pale... "Oh, there you are. Dilandau, are you all right?" He said, pretending not to notice the obvious signs that he had been crying. Dilandau didn't answer.
"Sir, Gatti's a love-struck idiot. Don't listen to him." He assured Dilandau. "I'm a love-struck idiot, too, Guimel." He replied flatly. "Or am I? I don't even know what I am anymore. My mind has been so warped and twisted, and I don't know what these feelings are... I'm a killer. I'm not supposed to care for people. At all. But I do... Why me!?" He ranted, almost to himself. "Because fate has made it so. Gatti didn't mean those things he said." Guimel said. "Yes he did, don't be an idiot. He's right too. Just look at her, she's-"
"Yours." Guimel finished. "And we all know that, and all of us but Gatti respects that. Gatti is just jealous, and he's letting himself get carried away. He wants her too, yet he knows deep inside him that he's never going to get her. But, as human nature has always managed to prove time and time again, we always want most what we know we can't have. So, Gatti's trying to get her because he wants her." Guimel explained in a wise tone.
"Now come back, Dilandau. Go ahead of me, and I'll pretend I never found you. Go back there and tell Gatti off. He's wrong. Also, apologize to Gabrielle. You know... In a nice way. Let Gatti talk to Gabrielle this evening. Gabrielle won't go farther than friends with him, even as much as Gatti will push it. Don't worry." Guimel told Dilandau, and swiftly added that these were only suggestions. "You know, Guimel, I should listen to you more often." He said. Guimel gave him a short bow.
Dilandau started to walk down the long dim corridor back to where the Dragonslayers had been eating. They were all done their meals and gone. Dilandau walked into the room, and glanced around it. Everyone had gone, as he'd known, and there were blood spots on the floor.
His gaze followed them out the exit Gabrielle had taken, and he followed them. Every few steps there was a very small spatter of bright red on the floor. With every step he took closer to Gabrielle's door, he felt more and more guilty. By the time he'd arrived there, he had a lump in his throat. He didn't know what to say to her, but he pressed the entrance request button.
After a few seconds, the door hissed and drew up into the ceiling, revealing Gabrielle standing in front of him. she had a cloth up to her cheek, which was red with pain. She had stopped the bleeding, but her cheek still hurt. "I never meant to hurt you, Gabrielle. It was meant for Gatti, I didn't see you until it was too late... I-" He managed. "Please, come in." She said in a kind voice. He obliged, and the door closed behind him.
She opened the door about to feet, and looked straight across the wall. There it was, sitting folded up on a chest a few feet across from her. She stuck her upper body out and rached for it, a little bit of the water dripping from her hair making a small plip, plip, plip noise on the linoleum just before the bathroom door. She had just about reached it, when she saw out of the corner of her eye, Dilandau.
He was staring dumbly at her, his eyes widened just slightly, and he was blushing. "Gyah!" She yelped and snapped back into the bathroom faster than a retracting cobra, slamming the door shut behind her. Her heart was beating fast.
"Um," He said. "You wanted your housecoat? Sorry, I didn't mean to..." He started. "Should I pass it to you?" He asked. "Yes, please, just don't look in, okay?" She pleaded. "Alright." He replied, and he picked up the silvery silk-like housecoat. He opened the door lightly. He swung his head around to look the other way, but by no fault of his own was a mirror placed where he was looking. He caught her reflection for just a split second, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Another very strange feeling welled up inside him, along with the regular feeling in his chest. This was too strange. It joined and merged with the regular feeling inside his chest, kind of tingly in a weird way. She took the housecoat and he stepped away from the steaming bathroom door's opening. He was breathing a bit quicker than normally.
Good Gods! What was that!? He thought at himself. I... Still feel that feeling! What is it? He wondered, looking back at the closed door. I want to see her like that again... Why? I want to be with her right now... Right now. Now. Close. Very close. Extremely close. Why? Why? Argh! He exclaimed to himself. Why do I feel this way? Can't somebody tell me? He asked himself over and over, but he couldn't come up with an answer. That weird feeling was a little stronger. It grew inside him. He looked at the closed door again. No click of the handle. He wanted to be with her so badly. He stared at the doorknob. Still nothing. He wanted to so badly! He stared at it intensely, and the feeling grew. He tore his gaze from the door. A watched pot never boils. He reminded himself.
He took up a bottle of wine and read the label. He popped the cork and took out a glass, several of which he kept in a drawer. He wasn't an alcoholic, but he liked red wine. He poured the dark red liquid into the glass, and then replaced the bottle on the rack. Absent mindedly he ran his finger along the crystal rim, making the glass hum. Click.
The door opened, and Gabrielle emerged in the silver silky material housecoat, the top tied at a good tightness, but she still smoothed the flap over anyways. She was embarassed, and she didn't want a repeat. "I'm really sorry, I didn't notice you were still here. I embarassed you, and I'm sorry." She apologized. "Don't be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. You didn't embarass me." He said. "You were blushing." She said flatly. "Well, I think that was from a different feeling." He said, and hadn't realized what he'd said. She blushed and looked away, and her hand rose up to cover her mouth and the bridge of her nose. "Oh!" She said. He cleared his throat. "Um. Want some wine?" He asked.
"I don't really drink, but I'll try some." She said. He took out another glass and poured some. He passed it to her. "Thanks." She said as she accepted it from his hands. She took a very small sip, and winced at the sour, bitter taste that filled her mouth. She swallowed heavily. "You don't like it?" He asked with a tilt of his head. "I don't drink much, so I haven't developed a liking for it." She said shyly. She hoped she hadn't offended him. "Oh, it's just an acquired taste." He said simply. "What is it you don't like about it?" He asked, simply out of curiosity. "I don't find it sweet enough. It's too sour and bitter." She explained. "There are sweeter varieties. I just don't drink them. Some are too sweet." He said, and shrugged his shoulder.
"I should get going back to my quarters." She said. "It's getting late, and I'm probably annoying you." She said. "Not at all, Gabrielle." He said. "I like it when you're here. You are the only person I can talk to." He said as he sipped the wine. "Thanks." She said shyly. "Stay as long as you want." He said. "I won't be offended if you want to leave." He added. She smiled softly.
"So... How long are you going to stay for?" He asked. "I don't know. I can go if you want me to." She said quietly. "No, I want you to stay." He insisted. "Well," "Please. Just a little while. I have to go to the Scientists tomorrow morning... And... I want to see you. You... I don't know. Make me feel... Different." He said, choosing his words carefully, but still confused at how he phrased it. "I feel calm when I'm with you. Yet not. I don't know what I feel. I don't understand it." He said, dismissing his feelings. Gabrielle was silent. She didn't know what to say to this. She detected his nervousness.
"I know what they're going to do, and having you around for a little while makes me feel better." He said, glancing at the wall. "What are they going to do to you?" She asked. "Jar my memory, try to make me remember where I came from. Test my limits for pain, and then make me see things, to find out what I'm afraid of. They drug me up and I don't know what I do or say at the time, but I remember it later. I'm not supposed to remember, though. I've never told about that. Anyways, they're going to hurt me again. Having you around for a while before it calms me down." He explained, and placed the empty wine glass on the little table by the bed. "Soon, they're going to do the same to you, I think. Make you like me. And I don't want them to." He said, with a concerned, dispaired look that she'd never seen before. "Oh, Dilandau..." She said very quietly, and his gaze turned to meet hers.
Say it! His mind screamed at him. He suddenly found himself mute. Say it! Say it! Say it now! His mind burst insanely. He feared he might blush. He put one cold hand to his face, and he rested his elbow on his knee. As he looked at her in the silver patterned night coat, gazing softly back at him, the new strange feeling made itself known to him again. He found a want within him to touch her gently and kiss her. He found a want to tell her how he felt. Not a want... A need within him that was growing by the second. He sat cross-legged on the bed, just a few inches from her, who sat on the edge of it in a polite, good-postured position.
One long leg was crossed over the other, and her hands were folded neatly in the long silver sleeves. Only her bare feet were exposed, her hands, and her head and neck, but he could see her shape. The ribbon was tightly secure about her waist, and the long, flowing dress part draped flatteringly over her slim form. Her hair was still slightly wet from the shower, and it hung softly, nicely combed at shoulder length. Her startlingly blue eyes looked out kindly at him. He looked at her sublime hourglass-like shape, and he felt he wanted to feel those curves. He needed to. He swallowed. Had those damned furnace workers turned up the heat in here? It felt warmer than normal... A lot warmer. The heat seemed to wash over him, and he let it.
"Did anyone ever tell you that you're extremely beautiful?" He asked her in a small voice. She smiled shyly and looked at the floor. "No, nobody ever has." She said. "Well, they should. You are absolutely gorgeous." He said, not even knowing he said it out loud. She thanked him shyly with a little blush. He absent mindedly picked up the wine glass and made the rim hum again. "Habit?" She asked him with a small smile. "Hmm?" He asked. He was too infatuated.
"You look tired, Dilandau." She said after a moment, a trifle unsettled by his fixating stare. She shifted her weight, and uncrossed her legs. "... Dilandau." She said. "Hnah?" He asked dreamily. He was drinking her all in, it seemed, watching with careful observance every move she made. "Dil-an-dau," She said in a sort of low sing-song voice. "Hello." She said. Still no answer. She moved closer to him. "Hey," She said softly, and his gaze followed hers. "Are you in a trance or something? What's wrong with you?" She asked him.
"Nothing, Gabrielle." He replied decisively, as if very far off and it was hard for him to hear her and reply. He placed one hand on her cheek and kissed her slowly, loving every second of it. He pulled back, his eyes still shut gently. "I have waited almost all night to do that," He said, totally and completely in love with her, and what was more was that he didn't even know it. He still didn't understand his feelings, but he knew he felt them.
The cut on Gabrielle's face stung intense and horrible. Yet, when Dilandau had touched it, the pain had dissipated altogether. Once he had brushed her cheek and let go, the pain began to steadily return. She touched it. It had a strange kind of pain, the kind where it is ticklish and feels like it's full of pins. She took her hand away, and there was some blood on the fingertips of her middle and ring finger. The tickly pain receded, and the sharp regular pain returned. The pain on her arm, where she'd also been cut, hurt less. It had stopped bleeding and she'd cleaned it well in the shower.
"You should put a bandage on that. I had a cut like that once. It left this." He said disgustedly, as he pointed to the scar on the right side of his face. "It's hideous and I hate it." He said. "Oh, I don't know... I find it kind of... sexy." Gabrielle said in a soft tone. "I've always hated it. I treat it like a disfigurement." He said, and touched it. "Well, don't. Work with it." She said with a smile. "I'll have to get used to mine if it leaves a scar." She said, shrugging a shoulder.
"Well, Dilandau, I'm very tired, and I should go now." She said. "Oh." He said, his mood falling. He looked so alone that she felt sorry for him. "Your clothes were laundered." He said sadly. "Thanks, Dilandau." She said. "Yeah. Well, I guess I'll go to bed, too." He said, covering his disappointment with a flat voice. She had realized that was how he disguised emotions. He talked flatly. He stood up. "You know where your quarters are now." He said, his voice as flat as ever. "They'll be delivered to your door in the morning so-" He hushed when she hugged him. "Takeru yume. Oyasuminasai." She said quietly to him in Japanese. It meant something akin to 'Sweet dreams and goodnight.' "I didn't know you co-" She kissed him, and he shut his eyes. She separated from him with a touch as light as that of a feather, and turned to the door.
"Goodnight," She said, and left, leaving him standing there with a pile of raging hormones. He stood, rooted in the spot for a moment. He finally gathered his sense of reality and went to the bathroom to clean himself up before he went to bed. After a while, he came out of the bathroom in a different, informal pair of pants and slipped in between the silk covers. He had a partial to silk. He picked up a small book and began to write in it. After a few minutes of rapid writing, he replaced the book and pen in the drawer and leaned back, shutting off the light.
He crossed his hands behind his head, and looked out the window in his room. It displayed a dark night sky. Clouds occassionally drifted by. He sighed. He watched the glittering stars for a moment more, and thought of Gabrielle before he went to sleep. His angel. His, and nobody else's...
Gabrielle padded down the empty hallways at a slow pace. She wasn't in a hurry. Her feet made a very light noise on the cold ground. She shivered, and turned a hallway corner. She stopped for a second. The heavy silence seemed to weigh down on her, almost like it was a taboo to make a noise. She heard clicking footsteps behind her. She half turned her head. Someone in a blue and black uniform was walking down the hallway, his head down, muttering to himself. She resumed walking, and his head snapped up at the sound of shifting fabric.
"Gabrielle!" The boy behind her said, surprised. "Yes?" She asked politely, turning to face him. "Oh, hello, Gatti." She said with a polite smile. "Hi. Why aren't you in uniform?" He asked, curious. "I just came back from the showers." She replied. "Now I'm heading back to my quarters." She explained. "Oh. I'm going to mine, too. I just got back... My mecha got a pretty hard punch in the engines today." He said, embarassed at the memory.
"About what I said, I-" He started, glancing nervously behind him. "Gatti, it's okay. Dilandau's not around. Why do you bring this up?" She asked in a polite tone, suggesting that he could change the topic easily if he wanted. "I meant what I said to you." He said, and looked at the floor. A small blush appeared on each other's faces. "Gatti, I'm flattered. I really am," She said. He smiled shakily. "And I wanted to know if you would come with me to dinner sometime. Away from the group." He continued, barely able to spit it out.
Uh-oh. What do I do? If I accept, I make him happy, but Dilandau will have poor Gatti's head. If I refuse, I crush this boy's feelings... And I know only too well what that feels like... Think fast, Gabrielle. You've always been quick on your feet... She thought rapidly, disguising her mental figuring with a smile and a polite bow as was customary. Gatti stood nervously, fidgeting and awaiting her response.
"Please accept, Gabrielle. I just want to talk to you... And, um, maybe... Go out again... Sometime... Just to talk, you know." He said rapidly, but there was a hint of eager desperation in his voice. "Okay, Gatti. Just as friends, alright?" She said, and he nodded happily. "Okay! I'll go now... So, I'll see you this morning, and then we can eat together tomorrow evening?" He asked. "Yes. Sounds good, Gatti." She said, "I must be going now," She said, and she turned around, her combed hair swinging with the fabric of the dress, unwittingly amost making Gatti salivate.
She went to her quarters and lay down. You cheat. A voice snarled at her. She disagreed with this voice. She wasn't even together with Dilandau, and she was only seeing Gatti as a friend. When Dilandau questions this, because it's only a matter of time before he finds out, Gabrielle would back up Gatti. She confirmed this, and fell asleep.
In the morning, they were gathered around a table for breakfast. She waited patiently for the slop. Maybe, if she held her breath and plugged her nose, she could down some of the stuff. The meals were eventually served, and she stared at hers, her nerve lost.
"My lord, do you think it's possible I could talk to Gabrielle alone this evening?" Gatti asked very quietly. Dilandau's eyes flicked up from the table to burn in his gaze. "Excuse me?" Dilandau said, standing up. "Repeat yourself. Clarify." He said, advancing towards him. Gatti repeated himself. Dilandau backed Gatti up a bit from the table. "Why?" He spat at Gatti, and Gabrielle stood up, unnoticed by the two of them. She went to stand by them. "J-just as friends, sir. I asked your permission. I just wanted to talk to her, sir." Gatti asked, and any lesser soul would have cowered. Dilandau seethed with rage at the very suggestion, and he aimed a slap. At that very moment, Gabrielle stepped in between them, and she voluntarily recieved the heavy slap meant for Gatti.
Her canine tooth cut open part of the inside of her cheek from the impact, and she swallowed some of the metallic, salty blood. The pain from the wound inside her mouth and from the hard slap washed over her, the sting on her face remaining. Her head had snapped to the left when he'd hit her, and she could tell that the muscle was probably pulled. She let out a very small whimper and spat out a mouthful of blood onto the floor. Dilandau was absolutely horrified. He didn't know what to do.
"I hit you." He said dumbly. She put one cold hand to her face that seemed to be gently pulsating with the hot aftermath of pain. Her mouth was still bleeding. She swallowed some more blood, but when she couldn't stand the taste anymore, she spat it on the floor. "Obviously." Gatti said. "It was just as friends, Dilandau." She said, some of her speech garbled because of the bleeding in her mouth. She stepped back from them. "Friends." She said, spitting out another mouthful of blood. "I'll be back." She said, and she walked out of the room.
There was a stunned, angry silence amongst all of the Dragonslayers. Dilandau was stupefied at what he'd done. He'd hit her. He'd hit his angel. How could he? He hadn't realized she had been there until it was too late. Chesta fumed. He looked Dilandau square in the eye. "What!?" Dilandau practically shrieked at him. He turned to all of them. "It was an accident! I didn't mean to hit her, I-" He stopped talking. They all stared at him darkly. "I..." He trailed off, for lack of any further excuses. Gatti was the most angry of all.
"She took that for me." He said, amazed. "But..." Dilandau said, almost underneath his breath. He lifted his gaze from the floor, looking quite lost. "She's mine..." He said, and looked into the doorway where she had gone. "She..." He started to say, and Gatti cut him off. "Is a beautiful, kind angel, unspoiled and true, and the likes of you don't deserve someone like that! Ever!" By the end of his statement, Gatti was nearly screaming. He was wild eyed, and his face had gone a little extra coloured. Dilandau stood stock still. One tiny muscle that controlled his bottom eyelid twitched, but not from anger. He blinked.
"You're right." Dilandau said, so quietly that it was barely a whispered breath, but they heard him. He looked at the floor to his left. "You're right."He repeated. He took a step backwards. Gatti still stood, still pointing accusingly at Dilandau. "T-that's right, I'm right!" He stuttered, nervously saying this. Dilandau took another step backwards and paused. He looked at all of them again, staring with a cold anger he'd never seen before in them. "N-no, I-" Dilandau began. "Don't even speak, you filthy, mangy cur!" Gatti screeched, regaining his fury. Dilandau seemed to wince as if every word was a landed blow. "You could never understand something like that. She is beautiful, intelligent, and look what she did! She barely knows me, and she protected me. Someone like you could never understand that. Doubtless you are attracted to her, and I do not blame you for that. Every single one of us who sits in this room right now is. But I blame you for you. You! I can't even describe it! Simple words don't fill the blank! As I said, and I reiterate, you will never have her, because fate won't allow scum like you to have the privilege of being with such a beauteous creature! You didn't, don't, and never will deserve her." Gatti snarled at Dilandau, and he backed up further, his body cast into shadows.
The room was silent. Not anything was heard, until the small, sharp intake of a breath, and the sound of a boot turning. Diminishing footsteps were heard, growing fainter and fainter into the darkness. A small, circular drop of water on the stone ground in the spot where Dilandau had stood was the only remaining sign of him. Just one, and no bigger than the size of a mouse's paw. The room stayed silent.
"Gatti, was that really necessary?" Chesta asked in a lamb-soft voice. Gatti was shaking still, and he let his tensed body relax. "I don't know, Chesta. I don't know what made me do it. I just had to, and then the words were just coming forth. Chesta, he's going to kill me now. And what of Gabrielle? She'll hate me, too." Gatti's gaze fixed on the shadowy exit. "Where do you suppose he's going?" Dalet asked. "Don't know. Never seen him with... An emotion before, well, other than anger of course." Chesta said. "I don't think you should have said all that." Guimel finally spoke. "Well, no shit, Sheep Boy!" Migel roared at him, and then paid attention to the others' conversation. Guimel rolled his blue eyes and stood up, unnoticed. He followed the dark path Dilandau had taken.
Guimel did his best to keep noise to a minimum, but just enough so that if Dilandau was ahead, he could hear him approaching. Guimel occassionally called out his master's name, but there was no reply, only an odd breeze now and then, sometimes an echo of a far-off noise.
After about ten minutes more of wandering after his master, Guimel saw a brighter light through the dim passageways. The noises became a little clearer to him. He made no noise as he tread up to the light. He slowly and cautiously peered around the corner.
There was a piteous sight, and one that made Guimel feel uneasy. His master had never done anything like this remotely. Ever. It was Dilandau, sitting on his knees in front of a statue. He was holding himself up with his arms. He was facing away from Guimel, and he observed that Dilandau's shoulders were shaking. He made a sort of coughing sound, although it wasn't coughing. Guimel listened closer. Dilandau was... Was... Crying. Dilandau shifted his weight and sat cross legged, his back still to Guimel, not noticing his prescence. He was trying to subdue his crying, but it wasn't really working. He held a hand over his own mouth, but that didn't seem to work much either. He rocked slightly forwards and backwards, still crying softly, his arms crossed, folded tightly to his body. His tall, thin frame looked smaller to Guimel as he looked upon him.
Guimel backed up just as quietly as he had came, and when he was a fair distance away, he called Dilandau's name again, and made his footsteps quite loud enough that they were perfectly audible to Dilandau. "Dilandau?" He called. Dilandau's mind's eye seared and disappeared with that weird vision of the long haired little girl... So pale... "Oh, there you are. Dilandau, are you all right?" He said, pretending not to notice the obvious signs that he had been crying. Dilandau didn't answer.
"Sir, Gatti's a love-struck idiot. Don't listen to him." He assured Dilandau. "I'm a love-struck idiot, too, Guimel." He replied flatly. "Or am I? I don't even know what I am anymore. My mind has been so warped and twisted, and I don't know what these feelings are... I'm a killer. I'm not supposed to care for people. At all. But I do... Why me!?" He ranted, almost to himself. "Because fate has made it so. Gatti didn't mean those things he said." Guimel said. "Yes he did, don't be an idiot. He's right too. Just look at her, she's-"
"Yours." Guimel finished. "And we all know that, and all of us but Gatti respects that. Gatti is just jealous, and he's letting himself get carried away. He wants her too, yet he knows deep inside him that he's never going to get her. But, as human nature has always managed to prove time and time again, we always want most what we know we can't have. So, Gatti's trying to get her because he wants her." Guimel explained in a wise tone.
"Now come back, Dilandau. Go ahead of me, and I'll pretend I never found you. Go back there and tell Gatti off. He's wrong. Also, apologize to Gabrielle. You know... In a nice way. Let Gatti talk to Gabrielle this evening. Gabrielle won't go farther than friends with him, even as much as Gatti will push it. Don't worry." Guimel told Dilandau, and swiftly added that these were only suggestions. "You know, Guimel, I should listen to you more often." He said. Guimel gave him a short bow.
Dilandau started to walk down the long dim corridor back to where the Dragonslayers had been eating. They were all done their meals and gone. Dilandau walked into the room, and glanced around it. Everyone had gone, as he'd known, and there were blood spots on the floor.
His gaze followed them out the exit Gabrielle had taken, and he followed them. Every few steps there was a very small spatter of bright red on the floor. With every step he took closer to Gabrielle's door, he felt more and more guilty. By the time he'd arrived there, he had a lump in his throat. He didn't know what to say to her, but he pressed the entrance request button.
After a few seconds, the door hissed and drew up into the ceiling, revealing Gabrielle standing in front of him. she had a cloth up to her cheek, which was red with pain. She had stopped the bleeding, but her cheek still hurt. "I never meant to hurt you, Gabrielle. It was meant for Gatti, I didn't see you until it was too late... I-" He managed. "Please, come in." She said in a kind voice. He obliged, and the door closed behind him.