A/N- Like I said, vacation's a killer (at least when you
wanna update, the rest is fine!) I was so busy with science
and then family that I didn't' get any writing done! Yea,
so, I'm gonna try to write as best I can here, but I usually
have it in a notebook first so I can revise when I type,
sorry if this isn't so good.
~*~
He sighed heavily. His past was definitely not a topic he enjoyed. 'Why start now?' he figured.
'Because you know you want to tell her,' the nagging voice in the back of his head reasoned.
He growled and settled for a simple, "It doesn't matter right now."
She looked up at him, "When do you think it WOULD matter?"
She couldn't help it. She knew this wasn't the place, nor the time. But this. this conversation was calming her down, it took her mind away from earlier, even if it was just temporary. If the words stopped coming in from the 'outside' her mind would start up again and she wouldn't be able the handle it. He himself was even calming; from his voice to how protectively he was holding her. She didn't want to pressure him but it seemed the only way to keep him talking.
Then she noticed his glare.
"It will never matter. It never has and it doesn't now."
So much for comforting the woman! On a rare occasion when he tried his best to help her, to attempt kindness, she had to go and ruin it with trying to expose his god forsaken past!
"Why don't you think it matters?" desperately trying to fathom what he was talking about.
"It was just doesn't woman! Why would it?"
"I just want to know, I can't say why," she told him, muttering the last part.
"And why not? Is your reason THAT stupid, or do you even have one?"
"I ijusti want you to keep talking to me, okay? If you don't I have nothing more to distract me! So will you just talk!?" she whispered.
He stared down at her, then leaned back against the wall, deep in thought. "Why does this discussion have to be about me though? Why would you want to know all that shit?"
She looked away seemingly embarrassed. "I just do, okay?"
After a few more moments, he nodded and she heard him say, "Alright..." She just continued to stare at the floor as she heard him question, "What do you want to know first then?"
"Why were you working with Freeza?" she replied, still not looking up at him.
He sighed heavily. Not a easy question to answer. He couldn't help but wonder if she could comprehend the reasons.
"I was forced to. I was my father's... trading tool," he told her, struggling to find the right words, "part of a treaty they developed included the agreement that I would be given to Freeza in exchange for our planet's well-being. That didn't exactly work out however, since for myself it simply became, 'do the work you're assigned, or you father dies.' I hated the bastard, by the my father, and I would be punished indifferent ways afterward anyways, so I did whatever they asked of me. It wasn't enough though, he died suddenly a few months after I was given away. I was away on a purging mission when it happened, and it was never determined by 'doctors' exactly what happened," he shook his head in disgust, "It was him though, I know it."
She stared at him in disbelief, all that had happened to him?
"How old were you though?" she asked. Hopefully old enough to handle that.
"Five," he stated indifferently.
Her heart shattered. All at such a young age? "B-but what about your mother? Where was she?"
He shrugged again, staring at the floor all the while, "Suicide."
She subconsciously leaned back in surprise, "Why!?"
"My father," he said, eyes never leaving the floor. "After I was born she was of no more use to him. He had his heir and that made her worthless... except for during the nighttime. She finally slit her wrists the day before I left."
After a few long, heavy moments he felt arms around his neck and shoulders. "Don't do that," he told her quietly. But her arms didn't move.
"Do you ever think about her?"
His head fell back against the wall as he again pleaded, "Don't do this."
She looked at him with unreadable emotions playing in her eyes. "Why?"
"Don't do this!" he repeated, now angrily, standing up suddenly. She looked up at him, but said nothing. "I do not want, and I do not need you damn pity, so waist it on someone else."
She stood up slowly, then finally let her gaze leave the ground and her deep azure eyes met his cold, onyx ones. She searched his eyes for but a minute before turning her head once more. He did not want this; he did not want her. She sank back down the wall and aloud her forehead to once more rest against her knees. She could never look at him again after this... He would never let go of the fact he saw her tears, or how 'weak' she was acting. And she couldn't help but let even more tears escape; She could not handle the stress of the day.
That's when she felt two more arms encompass her, but she just couldn't stop her sobs. She felt so alone in the world. The concept she would never see her parents again was finally hitting her full force, and she could do nothing about it. She could never see them; would never hear her mother cheerful voice, or her father's ever thoughtful one. She would never be able to hug them goodnights, or receive their everlasting support, or their love. She could do nothing.
Her entire body shook in emotion al turmoil, and the arms around her held her even more securely, more protectively. She felt him stroking her hair gently in an attempt to calm and quiet her. Her body shook violently once more before she finally felt the tears ceasing.
"I... I'm sorry, Vegeta," she stammered.
"But there's nothing for you to feel sorry for," he replied quietly.
"I made you speak about your past, and then had a fucking breakdown."
"That wasn't you're your fault though," he muttered.
"Then should I thank you?" she asked, "I pissed you off and yet here you are..."
"No. Just go to sleep for now," he told her.
"But-" she began.
"Just sleep, woman," he restated.
She searched his eyes once more before running a finger down his cheek absently. She then brushed her lips against his just once before finally burying her face in the crook of his neck and falling asleep.
His head once again fell back against the wall behind him. He couldn't figure out either. Why was he here?
~*~
Bulma awoke in her own bed late the next morning, or afternoon, she wasn't quite sure which, not yet remembering all the events of the previous night...
She resentfully swung her legs over the side of the bed and, not yet bothering to dress properly, made her way down the stairs and into the empty kitchen.
She sighed in relief after she herself realized Vegeta was, in fact, not there complaining about an unmade breakfast. She had no wish to even look at food, much less cook or, god forbid, consume any. So she simply set out some water to boil with every intention to make tea. That always seemed to soothe her. After a few minutes steam was shooting out of the kettles spout. She poured the water in a cup then set in a teabag with a small amount of sugar and milk. (A/N- Sorry if that sounded like instructions on how to make tea...) After removing the teabag and stirring the combination together she walked over to her favorite, overstuffed armchair and simply sat.
It seemed as though hours had passed. Her teacup was long empty, but she still held on to it, far too deep in thought to care. Locks of tousled hair covered her face like a veil as her head was kept down in concentration. She had cried again, but who could blame her? Her only thoughts at the moment however, were of Vegeta. She felt immensely guilty about it, but it could not be helped either way. He confused her, plain and simple. He could kiss her heatedly one moment, tell her dark secrets of his past, and then push her away the next, but could still find a way to comfort her. He confused her...
~*~
He sighed heavily. His past was definitely not a topic he enjoyed. 'Why start now?' he figured.
'Because you know you want to tell her,' the nagging voice in the back of his head reasoned.
He growled and settled for a simple, "It doesn't matter right now."
She looked up at him, "When do you think it WOULD matter?"
She couldn't help it. She knew this wasn't the place, nor the time. But this. this conversation was calming her down, it took her mind away from earlier, even if it was just temporary. If the words stopped coming in from the 'outside' her mind would start up again and she wouldn't be able the handle it. He himself was even calming; from his voice to how protectively he was holding her. She didn't want to pressure him but it seemed the only way to keep him talking.
Then she noticed his glare.
"It will never matter. It never has and it doesn't now."
So much for comforting the woman! On a rare occasion when he tried his best to help her, to attempt kindness, she had to go and ruin it with trying to expose his god forsaken past!
"Why don't you think it matters?" desperately trying to fathom what he was talking about.
"It was just doesn't woman! Why would it?"
"I just want to know, I can't say why," she told him, muttering the last part.
"And why not? Is your reason THAT stupid, or do you even have one?"
"I ijusti want you to keep talking to me, okay? If you don't I have nothing more to distract me! So will you just talk!?" she whispered.
He stared down at her, then leaned back against the wall, deep in thought. "Why does this discussion have to be about me though? Why would you want to know all that shit?"
She looked away seemingly embarrassed. "I just do, okay?"
After a few more moments, he nodded and she heard him say, "Alright..." She just continued to stare at the floor as she heard him question, "What do you want to know first then?"
"Why were you working with Freeza?" she replied, still not looking up at him.
He sighed heavily. Not a easy question to answer. He couldn't help but wonder if she could comprehend the reasons.
"I was forced to. I was my father's... trading tool," he told her, struggling to find the right words, "part of a treaty they developed included the agreement that I would be given to Freeza in exchange for our planet's well-being. That didn't exactly work out however, since for myself it simply became, 'do the work you're assigned, or you father dies.' I hated the bastard, by the my father, and I would be punished indifferent ways afterward anyways, so I did whatever they asked of me. It wasn't enough though, he died suddenly a few months after I was given away. I was away on a purging mission when it happened, and it was never determined by 'doctors' exactly what happened," he shook his head in disgust, "It was him though, I know it."
She stared at him in disbelief, all that had happened to him?
"How old were you though?" she asked. Hopefully old enough to handle that.
"Five," he stated indifferently.
Her heart shattered. All at such a young age? "B-but what about your mother? Where was she?"
He shrugged again, staring at the floor all the while, "Suicide."
She subconsciously leaned back in surprise, "Why!?"
"My father," he said, eyes never leaving the floor. "After I was born she was of no more use to him. He had his heir and that made her worthless... except for during the nighttime. She finally slit her wrists the day before I left."
After a few long, heavy moments he felt arms around his neck and shoulders. "Don't do that," he told her quietly. But her arms didn't move.
"Do you ever think about her?"
His head fell back against the wall as he again pleaded, "Don't do this."
She looked at him with unreadable emotions playing in her eyes. "Why?"
"Don't do this!" he repeated, now angrily, standing up suddenly. She looked up at him, but said nothing. "I do not want, and I do not need you damn pity, so waist it on someone else."
She stood up slowly, then finally let her gaze leave the ground and her deep azure eyes met his cold, onyx ones. She searched his eyes for but a minute before turning her head once more. He did not want this; he did not want her. She sank back down the wall and aloud her forehead to once more rest against her knees. She could never look at him again after this... He would never let go of the fact he saw her tears, or how 'weak' she was acting. And she couldn't help but let even more tears escape; She could not handle the stress of the day.
That's when she felt two more arms encompass her, but she just couldn't stop her sobs. She felt so alone in the world. The concept she would never see her parents again was finally hitting her full force, and she could do nothing about it. She could never see them; would never hear her mother cheerful voice, or her father's ever thoughtful one. She would never be able to hug them goodnights, or receive their everlasting support, or their love. She could do nothing.
Her entire body shook in emotion al turmoil, and the arms around her held her even more securely, more protectively. She felt him stroking her hair gently in an attempt to calm and quiet her. Her body shook violently once more before she finally felt the tears ceasing.
"I... I'm sorry, Vegeta," she stammered.
"But there's nothing for you to feel sorry for," he replied quietly.
"I made you speak about your past, and then had a fucking breakdown."
"That wasn't you're your fault though," he muttered.
"Then should I thank you?" she asked, "I pissed you off and yet here you are..."
"No. Just go to sleep for now," he told her.
"But-" she began.
"Just sleep, woman," he restated.
She searched his eyes once more before running a finger down his cheek absently. She then brushed her lips against his just once before finally burying her face in the crook of his neck and falling asleep.
His head once again fell back against the wall behind him. He couldn't figure out either. Why was he here?
~*~
Bulma awoke in her own bed late the next morning, or afternoon, she wasn't quite sure which, not yet remembering all the events of the previous night...
She resentfully swung her legs over the side of the bed and, not yet bothering to dress properly, made her way down the stairs and into the empty kitchen.
She sighed in relief after she herself realized Vegeta was, in fact, not there complaining about an unmade breakfast. She had no wish to even look at food, much less cook or, god forbid, consume any. So she simply set out some water to boil with every intention to make tea. That always seemed to soothe her. After a few minutes steam was shooting out of the kettles spout. She poured the water in a cup then set in a teabag with a small amount of sugar and milk. (A/N- Sorry if that sounded like instructions on how to make tea...) After removing the teabag and stirring the combination together she walked over to her favorite, overstuffed armchair and simply sat.
It seemed as though hours had passed. Her teacup was long empty, but she still held on to it, far too deep in thought to care. Locks of tousled hair covered her face like a veil as her head was kept down in concentration. She had cried again, but who could blame her? Her only thoughts at the moment however, were of Vegeta. She felt immensely guilty about it, but it could not be helped either way. He confused her, plain and simple. He could kiss her heatedly one moment, tell her dark secrets of his past, and then push her away the next, but could still find a way to comfort her. He confused her...
