Title: My Dying Wish—Let me.
Author: TheBlackRavness
Summary: They were just taking a walk out in the forests of Besaid. How were they to know they were going to be ambushed? How was Lulu to know that Wakka was willing to pay the ultimate price to save her? How? (Lulu/Wakka; One Shot)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. As much as I would love to—I can't. Sadly. This story is for my own entertainment—and in no way am I profiting. I'm sorry that I haven't updated More Than Physical, or Saffron Eyes—but due to school and personal reasons I'm finding it hard to concentrate on my long term projects…and have been only able to write One Shots. Sorry to my readers. I will continue once I get my mind back and my muse.
Her scarlet eyes glittered, as her ebony locks were free from the braid like bounds, and her raven tresses flowed down to the back of her mid-thigh. She smiled—a true genuine smile, he hadn't seen in two years. Not since him. Strands of stray silky hair danced on her ivory face and nude shoulders as she danced around the roaring bon fire in the tropical night. The beating of drums and the soft melody of various wind instruments filled the cloudless atmosphere, as the villagers danced convivially. Her belts clinked in sync with her steps and the entrancing beat; her hands clapping along as she circled the roaring flames once more, trailing after the celebrating villagers in front of her.
He stood off to the side, arms crossed over his well defined chest, a grin on his face as he watched the dark goddess caper. The grin faltered as the villagers slowly paired up, and began to dance as couples—and the black mage stood there—her brow knitted tightly together with confusion at the turn of events. He inhaled sharply at her pained expression, watching the couples dance merrily. Her crimson eyes didn't sparkle under the starlit, moolit, and fire lit sky. They misted over.
She noticed his tall figure advancing towards her, his arms by his side, and a look of concern mixed with anxiety written across his innocent looking face. A gentle blitzball worn hand rested on her silky cool skin, the pad of his thumb caressing absentmindedly, "Would you like to dance?"
A nod.
Placing his hands on her petite waist; relishing the feeling of her slender fingers grip his biceps, they danced. The mere touch sent the man into a frenzy as they galloped and twirled along to the beat. He beamed as he watched her blood red eyes sparkle with joy. A forgotten joy.
Something he brought to her.
The two danced.
…And danced.
…And danced.
…And danced.
They danced until slowly the children were put to bed, the elders retired, and slowly the remaining adults were exhausted and the music ceased. She slowed the pace to a stop, and looked up into his warm mocha eyes—her violet lips pulled into a smile. "I want to show you something, ya?" The thick Besaidian accent dripped off his voice, as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.
He heard her breath catch in her throat.
Smiling, he took her hand and slowly led her out of the Besaid Village. Looking at her mischievously he began to run, leaving her to stand there with confusion written all over her face. It registered in her mind what he was up to—a game they used to play when they were children. You had to catch the person in order to hear the secret. Hiking up her belt skirt, she sprinted after him—she always won this game…but she'll never know he let her catch him. Capture him again and again, like she had his heart.
Let me be your hero
Would you dance
If I asked you to dance?
Would you run
And never look back?
Would you cry
If you saw me crying?
And would you save my soul, tonight?
She chased him deep into the forest, and off the beaten path. Her ebony hair flowing behind her like a silk scarf, and her ivory skin reflecting the silver haze of the full moon. Slowly the trees broke away to a secluded beach, rarely visited by the island's inhabitants, and slowly she caught up to him, lunging at him, knocking him down into the sand. He leaned back on his elbows, admiring the woman that sat upon his lap, her hands resting on his chest in a dominant manner. She looked absolutely beautiful. She truly was an angel from the heavens above.
He raised his hand up to cup her chin, brushing back the lock of hair that fluttered over her luscious lips, and the other hand brushing back the hair that covered half of her face. He tucked the soft tuft of hair behind her elfish ears, enjoying the sigh that came from her. Her eyes slid behind powered lids, and the contented smile returned to her lips. "Are you going to tell me?"
"Impatient?" He mused.
"Just a little." Crimson peered out from under dark thick lashes, as she leaned down closer to inspect his face. His heart skipped a beat at the innocent gesture, as was the temptation to lean up into her supple lips, and ravage them hungrily with his own, that ached to come in contact with her sinful flesh. "You know Chappu—he never…"
He sighed angrily. Here we go again.
"I know, I know. Chappu never kept what he wanted to tell you, inside. He told you flat out. I know—I know. But I'm not Chappu—'sides what's wrong with a little bit of mystery, ya?" She rolled off of him, lying back into the sand, her hands resting, clasped on her stomach, as she looked up to the unmoving stars.
Would you tremble
If I touched your lips?
Would you laugh?
Oh please tell me this.
Now would you die
For the one you loved?
Hold me in your arms, tonight.
"Damn you, Chappu." He muttered to himself, looking over to the silent woman. His breath caught in her throat—she was so beautiful. But her seductive eyes misted over with anguish, and her lips tugged into that known frown. Her hands delicately playing with her raven locks, nervously. He was so tempted to just roll over, and kiss her, kiss her into forgetting her pain. To let her know he was real, he was still alive, he still cared. But he wasn't Chappu. Chappu was always better than him—in sports, academically, and even in the area of wooing the ladies.
They were both caught up in their thoughts, not seeing the ten sets of glowing saffron eyes on the edge of the forest, watching the still two. Their fangs dripping with the saliva, as the smell of fresh meat wafted passed their nostrils, their tongues lolling out of their canine mouths, with a savage hunger.
Slowly they crept out from the bushes, and stooped low into the golden sand, their own flaxen fur blending in, as they crept ever so closer to the unsuspecting two.
I can be your hero, baby.
I can kiss away the pain.
I will stand by you forever.
You can take my breath away.
He rolled up onto his side, as the waves languidly crashed upon the short, just barely planting a wet kiss on his toes. He propped up on his elbow, head resting in his hand, as he watched her, gaze up into the sky, deep in thought. She looked at him, and raised an eyebrow.
It's now or never.
Leaning down, his nose brushed passed hers, as he went ever so agonizingly closer to those sinful lips. She inhaled sharply as she realized what he was doing. He was going to kiss her.
The growl and low howl of the pack of canines lunging at the native Besadian, knocked him onto his back, as the biggest of the pack stood on his chest, head stooped low, snarling at the surprised blitzer. The cry the woman was unsettling as the rest surrounded her, saliva dripping from their maws. Mumbling in a low hushed voice, she cast a weak fire spell on the dingo upon the man, sending it yelping into the water, as its fur burned.
The attack on the alpha male, drove the dingos into a maddened frenzy as they circled the black mage, their hunger and rage growing with each second. With little movement as possible, not wanting them to lunge and tear her limb from limb, she glanced at her companion, "Go—get my moogle doll and your blitzball. I can't cast any stronger spells without channeling it to make it powerful, or without moving." She whispered softly, and he barely heard it.
The alpha male was back—and pissed off. He limped up to the pack, standing just by the black mage's feet—his maw dripping with his blood and saliva. He lunged.
The blitzer lunged.
The pack of ravenous dingos jumped on him, biting, gnawing, and clawing at the man that attempted to save his companion. He struggled to fight free from them, as she scrambled to her feet, watching the horrific scene before her. She felt the fire within her burn and grow, with each struggled grunt he made. With each drop of blood that dripped into the once pure sand. Her body began to be swallowed within her fury, and unknowingly she made the prayer movements for the most powerful spell she knew.
The dingos ran off yelping into the deathly still night. The waves seemed to have ceased their musical melody of crashing upon the shore, and stood still.
The man lay there, flesh torn from him as well as parts of his clothes, and he bled. She scrambled to his side, frantically, looking into his eyes. He coughed, blood splattering to the hand that he painfully raised to his mouth, and smiling a crimson grin, "I'll be fine."
Would you swear
That you'll always be mine?
Or would you lie?
would you run and hide?
Am I in too deep?
Have I lost my mind?
I don't care...
You're here tonight.
She gingerly wrapped her arms around his torso, and pulled him up onto her lap, holding him. Tears streamed down her face as she watched her lifelong friend cough and sputter, and bleed. Her lips quivered, "Why?"
"I didn't want to see you hurt, ya." He coughed, and felt the warm scarlet liquid ooze from the corner of his mouth. This wasn't his idea of wooing. He raised a bloody hand to her cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing the tears away from her porcelain cheek. With all the strength he could muster that was fleeting from his tiring body, he kissed her chin.
She dry heaved her sobs, as she watched him slowly wither away. The hourglass of the inevitable black sand began to flow through the thin nozzle of death's countdown.
I can be your hero, baby.
I can kiss away the pain.
I will stand by you forever.
You can take my breath away.
"…Today was supposed to be a happy day. We were celebrating Yuna's success of defeating Sin once and for all—we were celebrating her being the new ruler of Spira. This was supposed to be a happy day." She bawled, burying her face gently into his torn neck. He hissed at the jolt of pain that shocked his body as she cried, her hair slipping over her shoulders, and landing in the forming pools of blood.
"Stupid of us to not bring potions, eh?" He laughed slightly, and felt her glare upon him.
"Now's not a time to make jokes. I'll—I'll go get help!" She went to stand, only to be stopped by a hand, that gripped her shoulder.
"No. There's no time." He wheezed.
"I should've learned white magic. I could've healed you." She wailed as his hand fell away from her cheek, and from her shoulder.
"It's okay—it's not your fault. Everything is perfect—I'm here with you." He smiled, feeling his world beginning to spin, and the dark shadow looming above him, ready to claim his soul.
"Chappu—"
"Just don't finish that sentence for me, okay?" He sighed angrily, even when he was dying she still compared him to Chappu. What a day. "Just—know that…"
"Now don't you finish that sentence." She sniffled, looking at him worriedly, as he shook his head, dismissing her words.
"As I was sayin'—just know that—I love you. I always have." He coughed violently his hand fisting the sand painfully as the granules bit his torn and battered flesh. "As my dying wish—let me—"
"Wakka—I—" She couldn't even finish her sentence; death had already claimed the retired guardian. A pain filled cry left her lips, a pain a lover would have when she wasn't able to tell the man she loved she loved him. She leaned down and kissed his already cold lips, "—I love you." She watched as his body burst into the glowing pyreflies. The sparkly orbs danced languidly in the air, brushing through blood matted hair, and across her face.
Tears streamed down her face like a faucet turned on at full power.
Oh, I just want to hold you.
I just want to hold you.
Am I in too deep?
Have I lost my mind?
Well I don't care...
You're here tonight.
She bowed her head; feeling all the regret she felt about not telling him sooner. "You were never like Chappu. And that's why I loved you." She murmured, "But now—I guess you're him—you died…you left me…like he did." She held a hand to her lips—her sinful lips that he never got to kiss—but only in death.
Ten sets of saffron eyes hid in the bushes once more.
Her shoulders shook with her silent sobs, her hands resting limply in her lap. She heard the fiends approaching her—and she knew their intentions.
The dingos pounced upon her sobbing form, her strength sapped from her, and she really didn't want to fight them off. The fiends that claimed the man that slipped through her fingers. She could have had him. The will to live left her.
The men she loved were taken from her.
Brutally taken from her.
Why live? She felt her flesh be torn off the bones that held them—she felt her life pour out onto the sand mingling with the late Wakka. She felt herself slip into the darkness that had consumed all.
I can be your hero, baby.
I can kiss away the pain.
I will stand by you forever.
You can take my breath away.
I can be your hero.
I can kiss away the pain.
And I will stand by you forever.
You can take my breath away.
You can take my breath away.
She blinked.
Blinding light flooded her vision, it was too painful to open her eyes. Then the light was gone. The crackling of a fire filled her ears, as well as the chirping of the crickets. Opening her eyes, she felt different. She sat up—it looked like Besaid. She stood. Was it all a dream? She looked to the roaring fire in the midst of the small village.
It was so quiet.
A red head came into her vision—smiling broadly. Wakka. She ran to him, hugging him tightly, crying into his shoulder, tears of happiness. His hand stroked her back lovingly, as he felt her stiffen in his embrace. His mocha eyes traveling to what her scarlet ones were staring at over his shoulder.
Chappu.
Braska and his wife.
Auron.
Jecht and his wife.
Tidus.
Her parents.
She pulled away from him startled, and then ran to her parents, hugging them tightly. "Mommy! Daddy!" She ran to each one, hugging them tightly.
Music began to play—even though there was no one to play.
A hand grasped her own, sliding to her waist. She looked up to the man that held her. "I never got to finish my sentence—…let me kiss you." She threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him—kissed him hard. Wakka finally kissed those sinfully soft lips, and slowly led her into a dance. Holding her to him, dancing under the stars, locked in the intimate embrace for an eternity in the farplane.
I can be your hero.
"Hero" by Enrique Iglesias