Disclaimer: *blinks* not mine, sorry all lawyers, find someone else to sue! hah!

Warnings: shounen-ai... *anime sweatdrops* so to speak... er, never mind... I'll try to pick things up now... it's going way too slow... ugh! I no like... CHARGE!!!

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Tristan stabbed at the log burning in the fireplace, his brow furrowed in thought. The sparks popped, and the heat warming Tristan's face.

But he was ignoring it all.

He was practically leering at her earlier.

And what did she do?

Smile, both with innocence and embarrassment. Her fair complexion turned red as blood rushed to her cheeks, once their eyes met.

Bakla.

Swallowing, Tristan sat the poker aside, and stared into the flames. Maybe it was too cliche. Who knew? Bakura. Just up and left, just like that. Then Bakla came along. It all made no sense.

"Bakura..." he murmured, softly.

Then a soft voice, clearing their throat. Tristan looked over his shoulder. Speak of the devil, he mused. So to speak. She looked like an angel, at the moment.

"Bakla... why're you up so late?"

She smiled, faintly, "I could ask you the same thing..."

Tristan shrugged, "can't sleep..."

"Oh... well, I just came for..." she paused, thoughtfully. "A walk, I suppose..."

Tristan smiled, "you cold?"

"Does it show?" she asked, wryly. Tristan laughed, softly, the girl was hugging herself and shivering. Wordlessly, he scooted over a bit, a silent invite for her to join him.

Bakla walked over to the fireplace, and sat next to the taller teenager. Tristan took a breath, then he blinked, catching Bakla's scent. Vanilla. It suited her, perfectly. Then Tristan frowned, inwardly. Bakura, he smelled like vanilla, too. But then maybe it was just some coincidence.

He snuck a casual glance at her, she looked content, as she stared into the fire, the heat making her cheeks redden. Or maybe it was other reasons.

"It's strange..." she said, softly.

"Hm?"

"How... I just..." she shook her head, embarrassed. "Never mind..."

"No, go on..." Tristan insisted.

"No, it's okay... forget I said anything..."

"... Well, that's rude..."

Bakla looked at him, indignantly, "excuse me?"

Tristan smiled, his hands raised in quick surrender, "never mind... no offense..."

Bakla laughed, and pulled her knees up, hugging them. They went silent again. But only for the time being. Tristan couldn't help but feel relaxed. The silence was kinda nice, just the two of them, going through their thoughts.

At least, he hoped that's what Bakla was doing.

"What're you thinking?" she asked, softly.

Tristan blinked, looking at her, "what?"

She smiled up at him, faintly, "you strike me as the thinking type..."

Tristan blinked, again.

"Well, are you?"

"... Uh... kind of..."

"What're you thinking about, if you don't mind my asking...?"

"No, not at all... I'm just thinking about... uhhh, never mind, it's not important..." he cleared his throat, and turned his attention back to the fire.

Bakla was watching him, her slender eyebrow raised. "I find it hard to believe that you think your thoughts aren't important..."

Tristan chuckled, ruefully. "Well, it's what most people assume... I guess it's rubbing off on me."

"... You don't want to tell me, because...?"

"Don't take it the wrong way... I just don't like sharing my thoughts, that's all..."

"Why?"

"... Others have their own thoughts to deal with..."

Bakla blinked, and hesitantly rested her head against Tristan's shoulder. The brunette froze. Then began to relax, since it felt kind of comforting. She must have sensed the brunette's ease and relaxed herself.

"You tired?" Tristan asked, quietly.

Bakla looked up at him, "you want me to leave...?"

"You gonna answer my questions, with questions of your own?"

She smiled, "do you want me to?"

Tristan laughed. "It's up to you..."

Her smile faded, as she pursed her lips, and stared at the fire. Then she spoke up again, "I want to stay..."

Tristan smiled, "I want you to stay..." he said, softly.

She smiled, shyly, "then we're even..."

"Yeah... go figure..."

Bakla sighed, unconsciously nestling closer to Tristan. Who was frowning, in thought. It all felt so right. But, it felt wrong, somehow.

"How well do you know me, Bakla?"

"Hm...?" she murmured, sounding tired.

"We just met, not even two days ago..."

"Mm-hm..."

"It... never mind..."

"... Tristan...?"

Tristan was mentally kicking himself, for making so little sense. He never noticed the uncertainty in her tone. "Yeah?"

"How... how do you feel about Bakura?" she asked softly, looking up at him.

His eyes widened, as he quickly looked at her. "What do you mean?" he asked, swallowing nervously.

Bakla lowered her head, hiding her eyes with her bangs. "I'm just... curious... on how you feel about him, that's all..."

Tristan sighed, looking back at the fire as he ran his hand over his face, "I... I dunno..."

"You see him... in me, don't you?"

The brunette froze. Then looked down at her, in shock. "Wh-what!?" he sputtered.

"Do you?" she asked, looking up at him with those similar doe-eyes.

"I... what do you mean?"

"You called me Bakura, remember?"

"Well, yeah... but, because you looked like him..."

"So, he's not always on your mind?" she asked, looking surprisingly hurt. Tristan suddenly got confused. Where was she going with this?

"Is there any right answer?" he asked, slowly.

"It's up to you..."

"What if I said... no...?"

"Then I get up, and walk away..."

Tristan's brow furrowed, "and if I say yes?"

Bakla bit her lip, staring up at him, "I leave you alone..."

"Well, either outcome, I'm left alone..." he muttered.

"I don't mean it like that... I won't bring up Bakura again..."

Tristan shook his head, "you're not making any sense..."

"I know I'm not... I'm just..." Bakla shook her head, and got up.

Tristan stood up, "you're leaving...?"

"No, I... I just..." she took a few steps away. Then spun to face Tristan again. "Tristan, tell me how you feel..." she said, her voice shaking.

"I just met you..."

"About Bakura..."

Tristan stared at her, surprise written all over his features. "Why... why does it matter to you?" he asked, softly.

"Because..! I just want to know... It's been bothering for as long as I met you," she said. Tristan watched her intently, her hands were shaking. And it wasn't because of the cold.

"I don't get it... I don't understand you..." he said, shaking his head.

"Just tell me! I'm hearing all these things, and I want to know if any of it is true..." she pleaded. "I need to know how you feel, please?" She was on edge, Tristan realized. He walked up to her, cupping her face in his hands.

"I don't know... I don't know how I feel, Bakla... and I don't think it should matter so much to you..."

"Well, it does...!"

"Why? Why does it matter?"

"Because...! I, just... Tristan, please... you have to have some vague idea on how you feel for m-... him."

Tristan threw his hands up, in exasperation. "Oh for...!"

"Tristan..."

He frowned, staring into the fire. "Why's it matter? Why's it matter so much... to you? Why?" he was muttering to himself.

"Tristan... do you have any idea?"

"I'm just some dumb kid... I don't know..."

"You're not, Tristan... you're smarter than you think..."

"I don't know what love feels like... so I don't know if it's the real thing, or not..."

"... Ar-are you in love?" she asked, shakily.

"I don't know... I don't know how it feels..."

"I... I mean, Bakura... have you told him, anything...? Are you planning to, or at least try to tell him?"

Tristan rested his hands against the wall, sighing. "No... I haven't... and I don't think I planning to."

"... Why not?"

Tristan laughed, bitterly, "he wouldn't want me... what do I have to offer?"

"A lot more than you realize..." Bakla said softly. Tristan straightened up sighing, then he froze, as two slender arms wrapped around his waist, hugging him from behind.

"Bakla...?" he said, softly. "What're you...?"

"... I don't know..."

Tristan took a breath, closing his eyes. "I really don't think I can understand you..."

"I don't understand myself sometimes... you should, though... I... he's been waiting so long."

Tristan couldn't think of a way to respond. Slowly, he turned around. Then, in a very hesitant manner, he slowly slipped his arm around her waist. Her eyes shining with emotion, her cheeks turning red. Tristan swallowed, and gently rested his other hand against her cheek.

She leaned into his warm palm, her eyes closed contently.

"... You're beautiful..." he said, softly.

She looked up at him, and began to blush. "Thank you..."

She looks like Bakura. Is that why I said that? Tristan wondered. What was wrong with him?

"Tristan...?"

His eyes never left hers. Swallowing nervously, Tristan lowered his head, his heart hammering in his chest. His lips grazed hers.

"I don't usually do this... with someone I just met..." he whispered.

She gazed up at him, through her long eyelashes, "I-I'm not complaining..." she whispered, back.

Sighing shakily, Tristan gently pressed his mouth against Bakla's. Her warm lips gently parted, granting Tristan entrance. Whom gladly accepted the invite.

Tristan cupped her face in his hands, kissing her as deeply as he could. Her hands rested at the small of his back, holding his shirt, almost afraid to let him go.

No worries, Bakla, Tristan thought. I'm not going anywhere...

Finally they parted. Tristan took a breath, and swallowed again, "sorry..."

Bakla licked her lips, her brow furrowed, "for what?"

"... I just am..."

"Tristan, it's alright, I..."

"I wanted someone else... while I was kissing you..."

Her eyes widened, "what?"

"I wanted... Bakura..." Tristan shook his head, dropping his arms to his sides. "I'm sorry..." Bakla lowered her arms, and hugged herself.

"I... it's alright, Tristan..."

"Thanks... I, uhhh... think I should go to sleep now..." Tristan said, with a sigh.

"I'll... I'll stay awake..." she said, softly. Tristan nodded, running his hand through his hair, as he walked out of the livingroom.

But what surprised him was, he was literally weak in the knees.

Hopefully, Bakla wouldn't notice.

~~~***~~~

Bakura watched Tristan stride out, completely unaffected by their kiss, apparently. Pursing his lips, Bakura waited, for a moment. To make sure he was completely out of earshot.

Once he was sure...

Bakura threw his hands up in the air, "YES!" he said happily. He sat down, hugging his knees, smiling with sheer delight as he chewed on his thumbnail, still thinking about their kiss. And Tristan's honesty, afterwards. Bakura fell back, and stared at the ceiling.

"Tristan..." he murmured, softly. "You are more perfect than you let on..."

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Nanashi: a litte short, ne? had to be, I was being rushed...

Nanaki: WAI! THEY KISSED! THEY KISSED!

Nanashi: okay, gotta go now, later guys! *runs out*

Nanaki: HEY!!! wait up! *pauses* how's her sappiness, guys? I personally think she's losing it...

Nanashi: I HEARD THAT!

Nanaki: ACK! later guys ^_^ *runs away, hastily*