For disclaimer go back to chapter 1
Note to all my readers and especially to my reviewers: I love you all, and thank you for your support and opinions n_n
Leafy: O_O;;; *is now sightly charred and tied to a chair behind Albert*
Yfael: Good, now that she's out of the way there can finally be some peace around here *smirks* but sadly the show must go on, if she's lucky, she'll live through it *glares over shoulder*
Leafy: *looks back innocently* 3
Yfael: O_o I don't like that look.... well, anyway, on with the show e_e;;;
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Albert had dragged a reluctant Yfael from the charred remains of what had once been her home, taking her back to his sky high apartment. Her eyes were bloodshot and painfully red rimmed as she watched him move around his apartment, cleaning it up a little bit, not used to having company. "You didn't have to do this." She said softly, her voice hoarse from her outburst. He stoped and looked at her, "You're right, I didn't have to, but I did, so just sit tight." He said feeling slightly exasperated, but understanding none the less. She sighed and lowered her eyes to the couch she was curled up on, a midnight blue, nearly black velour fabric covered the overstuffed cushions, making it impressive, yet functional at the same time. A matching recliner sat next to it, beside the recliner a small pedestal, curving and twisting vines delicately supporting a thin obsidian colored glass disk. Violet peacock feathers in backlit glass sconces gave the room a greater sense of height while a large painting of a black dragon, silver eyes glowing softly as it surveyed its territory sat over the couch. He disappeared into the hallway for a moment and came back out, carrying a large afghan, and handing it to her, "I thought you might be cold." He said noticing that the temperature in his house was abnormally low. "Thanks." She said taking it and snuggling up under the smooth creamy woolen creation.
He went back to work clearing out the guest bedroom, a collection of boxes had been put up on the bed, all containing various papers with hand drawn sketches from local artists, a few by himself, and some old sheet music. Each of the boxes found a home in the closet, not taking up too much room, but enough to annoy. His eyes fell on an unused upright piano in the corner of the room, remembering a time not so long ago when he used to play, but the heart for cheerful music had gone out of him, while requiems and balads only covered so much emotion. He lovingly dusted off the top of the piano, revealing the unspoiled deep mahogany varnished wood underneath, then sighed and began to remake the bed, knowing that the old linens that had covered it were stale smelling and starchy by now. That done he surveyed the room, it was clean, quiet and comfortable, but cold and completely impersonal. He frowned at that, then shrugged and walked back out to the living room.
She had curled up on the couch in a fetal position, her hands covering her head, trying to release tension to ward off an oncoming migrane. His soft footsteps alerted her of his prescense and she looked up at him to see him looking at her oddly, "Do you have any headache or migrane medicine? I'm starting to get a migrane." She said sullenly, knowing it was caused by too much stress in a short period of time. "I don't, but I can run out and get you something, is there anything you take specifically?" He asked softly, knowing the sensativity to both light and sound migranes brought. "I'm not partial to anything, just hurry." She said feeling a stab of pain go through her head, then added as an afterthought, "Please." He nodded and turned off all the lights in the room, leaving as quietly as he could, feeling sympathetic for her migrane predicament, he used to get them occasionally as well before being turned into a cyborg.
The migrane had set in, making her writhe with pain occasionally, then deal with nausea every time she moved, an endless dance of misery. He was true to his word, returning a few minutes later with the medicine and a bottle of gingerale, knowing the gingerale helped calm one's stomach. He quickly poured her a glass and opened the box, removing a pair of foil covered pills, opening them halfway for her. She took the pills greatfully, and forced down half the ale, her stomach decidedly trying to stop her. "Thank you." She said opening her eyes for a few moments to look at him, then they fell closed again as a wave of nausea swept through her, and she kicked herself, this man was her savoir, now this was time number three, and she still couldn't treat him decently. He grabbed a book off a shelf in the hallway and sat on the recliner, wanting to be near to keep an eye on her, or to be there in case she needed help. Within half an hour the meds had kicked in, bringing a blissful end to the pain, with a sigh she relaxed on the couch, streching comfortably and opening her eyes. She could see him sitting on the recliner, feet propped up comfortably, holding a book on his lap, turning the pages slowly. A smile almost escaped at how 'right' he looked there, but she forced it back, knowing that he probably hated her by now, 'With my attitude, who wouldn't?' She thought bitterly and sighed again. Albert looked over, seeing her eyes open and her brows no longer clenched in pain, "Feeling better?" He asked gently, setting his book down, she looked back at him, "For the time being, yes, thanks." She said with a half grin at him and sat up slowly, feeling a bit of vertigo at the transition.
"Gotta love migranes." She mumbled bitterly to herself as he bumped around the kitchen heating up some soup for her. Another sigh escaped her as she leaned into the couch, wanting nothing more than her violin or her cello to hold on to. The soup heated up quickly and he ladled it into two bowls, then set the bowls on the table by a large window that offered a spectatular view of the city, especially at night. "Ready to eat?" He asked coming back into the living room, she gave a slight start, then relaxed and nodded, slightly angry at herself that he had caught her off guard. The dining room was tiny, but the apartment belonged to a bachelor and made up for itself with a breath taking view of the city, "Wow..." She sighed looking out the window in open mouthed awe. The lights twinkled softly in all colors as the moon peered out over a mountain ridge in the distance. "I should have gotten an apartment here instead of the house, that view is amazing!" She commented as she sat, eyes still glued to the window. He nodded, "That's the main reason I bought it, that and the location, it was just too good to pass up." He said as he joined her, stirring his soup absently. She carefully sipped a spoonful of the gently steaming liquid, thrilled to find that it wasn't too hot, but warm enough to make her feel as though she had been dipped into a warm bath. "You make canned soup very well, I always found a way to burn it." She said half jokingly. He chuckled, "Thanks, it took a lot of practice, but Chang taught me how to cook, I can make a home made version of this, but it would have taken longer." He said with a grin, proud to be able to cook and do it well.
As he washed their dishes, she remained unmoving from the window, watching the moon as it slowly rose higher into the sky, and the lights from the buildings below began to dim. A yawn escaped her and she stretched her arms toward the ceiling, then clasped her hands behind her back, lifting slowly until her shoulders let out a series of loud pops and she sighed with satisfaction, the bent over backwards to pop her back, able to see him watching her with an odd expression on his face, "Doesn't that hurt?" He asked drying his hands on a towel. "No, not at all, I can pop your back too if you'd like, I took a class on massage therapy as a side course in college so I wouldn't get burned out on music." She said as she stood up straight again. He thought about her offer for a long mement, "If you'd like to then I won't decline." He said with a grin, she shook her head, hiding a grin on her own lips, "Fine, then, follow me." She said walking out to the living room, "Lay face down on the floor, trust me please, its easier this way, and more comfortable for us both." She said with a shudder at the other ways it could be done.
He looked at her skeptically, but did as she said, she knelt beside him and ran a hand up his spine, mapping out the sections mentally, then pressed the heel of her hand against the first section, "Ok, now inhale all the way, you want to fill your diaphram." She said listening to the slightly muffled sound of him inhaling, "Good, now exhale." She said, applying pressure with the heel of her hand, hearing and feeling the satisfied pop of the vertebrae under her hand, she slid her hand down to the next section and did the same thing, continuing to the last section. "Can you feel the difference?" She asked as she ran a hand across his shoulders, feeling the extreme tenseness of the muscles there. "Uh huh." He sighed lazily, a goofy grin plastered to his face, "Good, now sit up with your back to me, I'm going to make you even more comfortable." She said, feeling happy that she had found something she could do for him that he appreciated. He did as she told him without asking why and waited, curious to see what she'd do next. Her hands gently slid onto his shoulders, rubbing away the long built up tenseness that was there, as he moaned softly under her touch. "Feel good?" She asked softly, noteing his relaxed posture. He nodded, "If you keep that up I'm not sure what will happen first, I fall asleep, or become fatally addicted to your back rubs." He purred happily as she ran first her nails up and down his back, then her hands, ending the sensory overload for him. "You're really good at that." He said looking over at her as she slowly popped her fingers.
"I didn't plan on making it my life's work, so I haven't been practicing, its nice to know though that I still have the touch." She said with a sad grin, remembering that her life's work had burned along with her house. He caught one of her hands in his, startling her as she raised her eyes to his, "So what did you do before all this?" He asked, the question startling her as much as his hand on hers. "I was a muscian, trained from a young age by a private tutor because my mother thought every proper young lady should have some kind of musical background, but she hadn't counted on my fallng in love with it. I went to Juliard against their wishes and moved here because it was the best offer." She said dropping her gaze, remembering the events that had lead up to her success. He nodded, noticing the pain in her eyes, "What happened?" He asked startling her, "What do you mean?" She asked, wondering how he seemed to know. "Your eyes give you away." He grinned warmly, watching as her eyes grew round in suprise, the closed as she snorted. "As much as I hate to admit it, you're right." She whispered, not wanting to admit if fully to herself. "Go ahead, talk, I'll listen." He said encouragingly, thrilled that she seemed to finally begin to accept him. She looked at him and sighed, steeling herself before she began.
She told him everything, about the multiple fights they had had, the night she walked out, and the car wreck that had killed her parents. He sat there, listening intently, afraid that if he said anything she'd stop speaking and refuse to continue. "I still blame myself for their deaths, if I hadn't walked out they'd still be alive today." She whispered, looking at her hands in her lap, covered by his large hand, he frowned and brought his hand from her lap to her chin, making her look at him, "Its not your fault that they died, its not like you planned it or something, it was an accident and couldn't be helped. You need to stop living in the past, living in the present is hard enough without your past bogging you down." He said and grinned at her, seeing a light come on in her eyes, "You're right." She said softly, and gave him a sad grin in return, contemplating what he had said as she moved her chin, accidentally brushing her cheek across it in the process, a jolt shot down her spine at the contact, her eyes opening wide out of suprise. He noticed this, and experimentally brushed his fingers across her cheek, her breath stopping and her eyes widening at the sensations from that simple touch shooting through her. A blush rose in her cheeks as she turned back to look at him, her contemplative train of thought having completely disrailed and bounced down a mountain, exploding into flames at the bottom. His hand cupped her cheek gently, a warm grin playing upon his lips as her eyes closed slowly, her hand coming up and resting on top of his, as she pulled his hand away, one of his fingers trailing down her neck, causing her to shiver visably and her breath to catch in her throat. She released his hand and reached up, running her fingertips delicately along his cheekbone, his eyes closing and his grin becoming wider as long dormant emotions began to awaken with a simple touch as her palm brushed against the rest cheek. A knock at the door shattered the moment into a thousand tiny fragments.
He took a deep sigh and went over to answer the door, seeing his elderly next door neighbor Mrs Palmer on the other side, "What will it be this time? Flour or sugar?" He asked knowing the routine by heart, she was always running out of one or the other, and supplying him with baked goods whenever she borrowed something. "Just flour this time dear." She said with a smile and waited patiently while he disappeared into the house, fetching some flour and dumping it into a plastic bag, returning quickly to the door, Yfael having moved from the floor to the couch watched him with a smile on her face as he quickly assured the little woman that he didn't need any cookies tonight and closed the door, leaning on it with a sigh. "She seems nice." Yfael speculated teasingly, watching the tension drain from him, "Sorry about that, she always picks the most inopportune moments to drop by." He said setting himself on the couch next to her, she grinned at him and shook her head, leaning against him comfortably as he set his arm across her shoulders. After a little while he became aware of movement from her and looked down to see one of her tiny hands touching his mechanical one curiously as it lay on his lap. He withdrew it and shoved it into his pocket, not being fond of that particular body part in the least, she looked up at him, this time compassion showing in her eyes, "Its ok, in fact, I find it fascinating, they used a different type of technology on me, I can feel the metal in my hands and arms, but I can't see it, only scars, and it frightens me." She admitted meekly, "But at least you know what you have and how to use it, my reaction yesterday was completely reflexive, I didn't know what I had done until afterwards. I'm sorry." She said looking down at her hands, he thought about what she had said for a moment and took his hand back out of his pocket, taking her hand with it. She turned her gaze back to him with a smile playing on her lips as she looked up at him smiling in return. Another knock sounded at the door, breaking the moment once again as he growled and got up to answer it.
"Hey man, I was flying over and decided to ask if I could crash here for the night." Jet said standing on the stoop, looking up at Albert with a grin. He sighed and nodded, moving out of the doorway and allowing Jet in as he closed and locked the door. Jet looked over at Yfael oddly as he saw her sitting innocently on the couch, he turned back to Albert, "Are you sure its ok to stay? I can go elsewhere if you'd like." Jet offered, thinking that the girl was already at home where she belonged. "Its fine." Albert said raising a hand, "We were about to turn in anyway, you know where everything is, help yourself, but I warn you, if I come back out in the morning and all my food is gone I'm blasting you the rest of the way home." He threatened jokingly and motioned for Yfael to follow him. "Good night." She said pleasantly to Jet as he stood there dumbfounded, yesterday she had tried to kill him, now they were sharing a room? "Night guys." He called back, wondering exactly what Albert had done, and if he'd teach him how to do it.
She followed Albert to his room as he ushered her in and closed the door, she was faintly suprised to see that the decor in his bedroom matched the decor in the living room almost perfectly. A king sized bed sat in the middle of the room, covered in shades of blue and solid blacks, "Did you pay someone to decorate? Or did you do it yourself?" She asked walking forther into the room, he laughed as he walked up behind her, "I paid someone, I just gave him a few colors and let him have at the house." He said setting his hands on her shoulders, she flinched, having not expected it, but relaxed within a few seconds. "If you'd like you can take a shower, and I'll lend you something to sleep in." He offered stepping away and over to his closet, pulling out a slightly old but very large t-shirt, "I'll just take the shirt." She said softly and hid a yawn with the palm of her hand. He brought the shirt over to her and showed her to the bathroom so she could change while he changed as well, into long black pants, leaving his chest bare, used to sleeping like this. She changed quickly and inhaled deeply of the shirt, smelling the clean, slightly woodsy fragrance of the detergent he used and grinned to herself as she folded her clothes and stepped out of the bathroom, finding most of the lights in his room had been turned off, with the exception a pair of small matched lamps on the night stands to either side of the bed. "I'll take your clothes." He said, gently, trying not to startle her, she handed her clothes over and watched as he set them on a nearby dresser, unable to take her eyes off of his torso, watching the way his muscles moved, robotic parts hardly noticeable. She was finaly able to tear her eyes away from him as she moved toward the far side of the bed, sliding into the luxiourious silk sheets with a sigh and watching as he came around to the other side of the bed and slid in beside her, reaching up and flicking a switch on the wall hidden by the headboard, enveloping them in total darkness. She felt his arms come out to her and she smiled in the darkness, scooting over into his warm embrace, feeling protected and secure, "Good night." She whispered and closed her eyes, falling asleep within moments to the sound of is heart beating.
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Leafy: The fun is not over yet n_n I've got them up to snuggling and nearly kissing, but not quite XD
Yfael: *comes over to try and get Leafy back into her straight jacket*
Leafy: Yipe! *pulles out super industrial cattle prod, because its a girl's best friend* Ha ha! Have at you! *hops at Yfael threateningly*
Yfael: e_e;;; *grabs the prod and breaks it in half*
Leafy: O_O *starts running, and grabs chair-bound Albert* Come Patsy!
Albert: o_o;;; You're got to be kidding...
Yfael: Get back here you pansy! *chases after them*
Can you tell I watched Monty Python n_n;;; stay tuned for the next chapter, A Tale of Two Coffee Beans n__n
Note to all my readers and especially to my reviewers: I love you all, and thank you for your support and opinions n_n
Leafy: O_O;;; *is now sightly charred and tied to a chair behind Albert*
Yfael: Good, now that she's out of the way there can finally be some peace around here *smirks* but sadly the show must go on, if she's lucky, she'll live through it *glares over shoulder*
Leafy: *looks back innocently* 3
Yfael: O_o I don't like that look.... well, anyway, on with the show e_e;;;
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Albert had dragged a reluctant Yfael from the charred remains of what had once been her home, taking her back to his sky high apartment. Her eyes were bloodshot and painfully red rimmed as she watched him move around his apartment, cleaning it up a little bit, not used to having company. "You didn't have to do this." She said softly, her voice hoarse from her outburst. He stoped and looked at her, "You're right, I didn't have to, but I did, so just sit tight." He said feeling slightly exasperated, but understanding none the less. She sighed and lowered her eyes to the couch she was curled up on, a midnight blue, nearly black velour fabric covered the overstuffed cushions, making it impressive, yet functional at the same time. A matching recliner sat next to it, beside the recliner a small pedestal, curving and twisting vines delicately supporting a thin obsidian colored glass disk. Violet peacock feathers in backlit glass sconces gave the room a greater sense of height while a large painting of a black dragon, silver eyes glowing softly as it surveyed its territory sat over the couch. He disappeared into the hallway for a moment and came back out, carrying a large afghan, and handing it to her, "I thought you might be cold." He said noticing that the temperature in his house was abnormally low. "Thanks." She said taking it and snuggling up under the smooth creamy woolen creation.
He went back to work clearing out the guest bedroom, a collection of boxes had been put up on the bed, all containing various papers with hand drawn sketches from local artists, a few by himself, and some old sheet music. Each of the boxes found a home in the closet, not taking up too much room, but enough to annoy. His eyes fell on an unused upright piano in the corner of the room, remembering a time not so long ago when he used to play, but the heart for cheerful music had gone out of him, while requiems and balads only covered so much emotion. He lovingly dusted off the top of the piano, revealing the unspoiled deep mahogany varnished wood underneath, then sighed and began to remake the bed, knowing that the old linens that had covered it were stale smelling and starchy by now. That done he surveyed the room, it was clean, quiet and comfortable, but cold and completely impersonal. He frowned at that, then shrugged and walked back out to the living room.
She had curled up on the couch in a fetal position, her hands covering her head, trying to release tension to ward off an oncoming migrane. His soft footsteps alerted her of his prescense and she looked up at him to see him looking at her oddly, "Do you have any headache or migrane medicine? I'm starting to get a migrane." She said sullenly, knowing it was caused by too much stress in a short period of time. "I don't, but I can run out and get you something, is there anything you take specifically?" He asked softly, knowing the sensativity to both light and sound migranes brought. "I'm not partial to anything, just hurry." She said feeling a stab of pain go through her head, then added as an afterthought, "Please." He nodded and turned off all the lights in the room, leaving as quietly as he could, feeling sympathetic for her migrane predicament, he used to get them occasionally as well before being turned into a cyborg.
The migrane had set in, making her writhe with pain occasionally, then deal with nausea every time she moved, an endless dance of misery. He was true to his word, returning a few minutes later with the medicine and a bottle of gingerale, knowing the gingerale helped calm one's stomach. He quickly poured her a glass and opened the box, removing a pair of foil covered pills, opening them halfway for her. She took the pills greatfully, and forced down half the ale, her stomach decidedly trying to stop her. "Thank you." She said opening her eyes for a few moments to look at him, then they fell closed again as a wave of nausea swept through her, and she kicked herself, this man was her savoir, now this was time number three, and she still couldn't treat him decently. He grabbed a book off a shelf in the hallway and sat on the recliner, wanting to be near to keep an eye on her, or to be there in case she needed help. Within half an hour the meds had kicked in, bringing a blissful end to the pain, with a sigh she relaxed on the couch, streching comfortably and opening her eyes. She could see him sitting on the recliner, feet propped up comfortably, holding a book on his lap, turning the pages slowly. A smile almost escaped at how 'right' he looked there, but she forced it back, knowing that he probably hated her by now, 'With my attitude, who wouldn't?' She thought bitterly and sighed again. Albert looked over, seeing her eyes open and her brows no longer clenched in pain, "Feeling better?" He asked gently, setting his book down, she looked back at him, "For the time being, yes, thanks." She said with a half grin at him and sat up slowly, feeling a bit of vertigo at the transition.
"Gotta love migranes." She mumbled bitterly to herself as he bumped around the kitchen heating up some soup for her. Another sigh escaped her as she leaned into the couch, wanting nothing more than her violin or her cello to hold on to. The soup heated up quickly and he ladled it into two bowls, then set the bowls on the table by a large window that offered a spectatular view of the city, especially at night. "Ready to eat?" He asked coming back into the living room, she gave a slight start, then relaxed and nodded, slightly angry at herself that he had caught her off guard. The dining room was tiny, but the apartment belonged to a bachelor and made up for itself with a breath taking view of the city, "Wow..." She sighed looking out the window in open mouthed awe. The lights twinkled softly in all colors as the moon peered out over a mountain ridge in the distance. "I should have gotten an apartment here instead of the house, that view is amazing!" She commented as she sat, eyes still glued to the window. He nodded, "That's the main reason I bought it, that and the location, it was just too good to pass up." He said as he joined her, stirring his soup absently. She carefully sipped a spoonful of the gently steaming liquid, thrilled to find that it wasn't too hot, but warm enough to make her feel as though she had been dipped into a warm bath. "You make canned soup very well, I always found a way to burn it." She said half jokingly. He chuckled, "Thanks, it took a lot of practice, but Chang taught me how to cook, I can make a home made version of this, but it would have taken longer." He said with a grin, proud to be able to cook and do it well.
As he washed their dishes, she remained unmoving from the window, watching the moon as it slowly rose higher into the sky, and the lights from the buildings below began to dim. A yawn escaped her and she stretched her arms toward the ceiling, then clasped her hands behind her back, lifting slowly until her shoulders let out a series of loud pops and she sighed with satisfaction, the bent over backwards to pop her back, able to see him watching her with an odd expression on his face, "Doesn't that hurt?" He asked drying his hands on a towel. "No, not at all, I can pop your back too if you'd like, I took a class on massage therapy as a side course in college so I wouldn't get burned out on music." She said as she stood up straight again. He thought about her offer for a long mement, "If you'd like to then I won't decline." He said with a grin, she shook her head, hiding a grin on her own lips, "Fine, then, follow me." She said walking out to the living room, "Lay face down on the floor, trust me please, its easier this way, and more comfortable for us both." She said with a shudder at the other ways it could be done.
He looked at her skeptically, but did as she said, she knelt beside him and ran a hand up his spine, mapping out the sections mentally, then pressed the heel of her hand against the first section, "Ok, now inhale all the way, you want to fill your diaphram." She said listening to the slightly muffled sound of him inhaling, "Good, now exhale." She said, applying pressure with the heel of her hand, hearing and feeling the satisfied pop of the vertebrae under her hand, she slid her hand down to the next section and did the same thing, continuing to the last section. "Can you feel the difference?" She asked as she ran a hand across his shoulders, feeling the extreme tenseness of the muscles there. "Uh huh." He sighed lazily, a goofy grin plastered to his face, "Good, now sit up with your back to me, I'm going to make you even more comfortable." She said, feeling happy that she had found something she could do for him that he appreciated. He did as she told him without asking why and waited, curious to see what she'd do next. Her hands gently slid onto his shoulders, rubbing away the long built up tenseness that was there, as he moaned softly under her touch. "Feel good?" She asked softly, noteing his relaxed posture. He nodded, "If you keep that up I'm not sure what will happen first, I fall asleep, or become fatally addicted to your back rubs." He purred happily as she ran first her nails up and down his back, then her hands, ending the sensory overload for him. "You're really good at that." He said looking over at her as she slowly popped her fingers.
"I didn't plan on making it my life's work, so I haven't been practicing, its nice to know though that I still have the touch." She said with a sad grin, remembering that her life's work had burned along with her house. He caught one of her hands in his, startling her as she raised her eyes to his, "So what did you do before all this?" He asked, the question startling her as much as his hand on hers. "I was a muscian, trained from a young age by a private tutor because my mother thought every proper young lady should have some kind of musical background, but she hadn't counted on my fallng in love with it. I went to Juliard against their wishes and moved here because it was the best offer." She said dropping her gaze, remembering the events that had lead up to her success. He nodded, noticing the pain in her eyes, "What happened?" He asked startling her, "What do you mean?" She asked, wondering how he seemed to know. "Your eyes give you away." He grinned warmly, watching as her eyes grew round in suprise, the closed as she snorted. "As much as I hate to admit it, you're right." She whispered, not wanting to admit if fully to herself. "Go ahead, talk, I'll listen." He said encouragingly, thrilled that she seemed to finally begin to accept him. She looked at him and sighed, steeling herself before she began.
She told him everything, about the multiple fights they had had, the night she walked out, and the car wreck that had killed her parents. He sat there, listening intently, afraid that if he said anything she'd stop speaking and refuse to continue. "I still blame myself for their deaths, if I hadn't walked out they'd still be alive today." She whispered, looking at her hands in her lap, covered by his large hand, he frowned and brought his hand from her lap to her chin, making her look at him, "Its not your fault that they died, its not like you planned it or something, it was an accident and couldn't be helped. You need to stop living in the past, living in the present is hard enough without your past bogging you down." He said and grinned at her, seeing a light come on in her eyes, "You're right." She said softly, and gave him a sad grin in return, contemplating what he had said as she moved her chin, accidentally brushing her cheek across it in the process, a jolt shot down her spine at the contact, her eyes opening wide out of suprise. He noticed this, and experimentally brushed his fingers across her cheek, her breath stopping and her eyes widening at the sensations from that simple touch shooting through her. A blush rose in her cheeks as she turned back to look at him, her contemplative train of thought having completely disrailed and bounced down a mountain, exploding into flames at the bottom. His hand cupped her cheek gently, a warm grin playing upon his lips as her eyes closed slowly, her hand coming up and resting on top of his, as she pulled his hand away, one of his fingers trailing down her neck, causing her to shiver visably and her breath to catch in her throat. She released his hand and reached up, running her fingertips delicately along his cheekbone, his eyes closing and his grin becoming wider as long dormant emotions began to awaken with a simple touch as her palm brushed against the rest cheek. A knock at the door shattered the moment into a thousand tiny fragments.
He took a deep sigh and went over to answer the door, seeing his elderly next door neighbor Mrs Palmer on the other side, "What will it be this time? Flour or sugar?" He asked knowing the routine by heart, she was always running out of one or the other, and supplying him with baked goods whenever she borrowed something. "Just flour this time dear." She said with a smile and waited patiently while he disappeared into the house, fetching some flour and dumping it into a plastic bag, returning quickly to the door, Yfael having moved from the floor to the couch watched him with a smile on her face as he quickly assured the little woman that he didn't need any cookies tonight and closed the door, leaning on it with a sigh. "She seems nice." Yfael speculated teasingly, watching the tension drain from him, "Sorry about that, she always picks the most inopportune moments to drop by." He said setting himself on the couch next to her, she grinned at him and shook her head, leaning against him comfortably as he set his arm across her shoulders. After a little while he became aware of movement from her and looked down to see one of her tiny hands touching his mechanical one curiously as it lay on his lap. He withdrew it and shoved it into his pocket, not being fond of that particular body part in the least, she looked up at him, this time compassion showing in her eyes, "Its ok, in fact, I find it fascinating, they used a different type of technology on me, I can feel the metal in my hands and arms, but I can't see it, only scars, and it frightens me." She admitted meekly, "But at least you know what you have and how to use it, my reaction yesterday was completely reflexive, I didn't know what I had done until afterwards. I'm sorry." She said looking down at her hands, he thought about what she had said for a moment and took his hand back out of his pocket, taking her hand with it. She turned her gaze back to him with a smile playing on her lips as she looked up at him smiling in return. Another knock sounded at the door, breaking the moment once again as he growled and got up to answer it.
"Hey man, I was flying over and decided to ask if I could crash here for the night." Jet said standing on the stoop, looking up at Albert with a grin. He sighed and nodded, moving out of the doorway and allowing Jet in as he closed and locked the door. Jet looked over at Yfael oddly as he saw her sitting innocently on the couch, he turned back to Albert, "Are you sure its ok to stay? I can go elsewhere if you'd like." Jet offered, thinking that the girl was already at home where she belonged. "Its fine." Albert said raising a hand, "We were about to turn in anyway, you know where everything is, help yourself, but I warn you, if I come back out in the morning and all my food is gone I'm blasting you the rest of the way home." He threatened jokingly and motioned for Yfael to follow him. "Good night." She said pleasantly to Jet as he stood there dumbfounded, yesterday she had tried to kill him, now they were sharing a room? "Night guys." He called back, wondering exactly what Albert had done, and if he'd teach him how to do it.
She followed Albert to his room as he ushered her in and closed the door, she was faintly suprised to see that the decor in his bedroom matched the decor in the living room almost perfectly. A king sized bed sat in the middle of the room, covered in shades of blue and solid blacks, "Did you pay someone to decorate? Or did you do it yourself?" She asked walking forther into the room, he laughed as he walked up behind her, "I paid someone, I just gave him a few colors and let him have at the house." He said setting his hands on her shoulders, she flinched, having not expected it, but relaxed within a few seconds. "If you'd like you can take a shower, and I'll lend you something to sleep in." He offered stepping away and over to his closet, pulling out a slightly old but very large t-shirt, "I'll just take the shirt." She said softly and hid a yawn with the palm of her hand. He brought the shirt over to her and showed her to the bathroom so she could change while he changed as well, into long black pants, leaving his chest bare, used to sleeping like this. She changed quickly and inhaled deeply of the shirt, smelling the clean, slightly woodsy fragrance of the detergent he used and grinned to herself as she folded her clothes and stepped out of the bathroom, finding most of the lights in his room had been turned off, with the exception a pair of small matched lamps on the night stands to either side of the bed. "I'll take your clothes." He said, gently, trying not to startle her, she handed her clothes over and watched as he set them on a nearby dresser, unable to take her eyes off of his torso, watching the way his muscles moved, robotic parts hardly noticeable. She was finaly able to tear her eyes away from him as she moved toward the far side of the bed, sliding into the luxiourious silk sheets with a sigh and watching as he came around to the other side of the bed and slid in beside her, reaching up and flicking a switch on the wall hidden by the headboard, enveloping them in total darkness. She felt his arms come out to her and she smiled in the darkness, scooting over into his warm embrace, feeling protected and secure, "Good night." She whispered and closed her eyes, falling asleep within moments to the sound of is heart beating.
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Leafy: The fun is not over yet n_n I've got them up to snuggling and nearly kissing, but not quite XD
Yfael: *comes over to try and get Leafy back into her straight jacket*
Leafy: Yipe! *pulles out super industrial cattle prod, because its a girl's best friend* Ha ha! Have at you! *hops at Yfael threateningly*
Yfael: e_e;;; *grabs the prod and breaks it in half*
Leafy: O_O *starts running, and grabs chair-bound Albert* Come Patsy!
Albert: o_o;;; You're got to be kidding...
Yfael: Get back here you pansy! *chases after them*
Can you tell I watched Monty Python n_n;;; stay tuned for the next chapter, A Tale of Two Coffee Beans n__n
