The Sky is Too Far

Chapter 4 - ("Good Morning.")

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::Wicked grin:: I.. am so evil...

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...::Sneezes:: o_o;;

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The hours following Vash's visit passed by excruciatingly slow for Meryl, she remaining in the bed, sitting up and staring out the window, watching as the twin suns rose tiredly in the sky. Atleast someone seemed to have had a good night's rest.

She didn't cry anymore, the last tear she'd shed had been simply brushed away by the man she loved before he'd left her alone.

It bothered her, the way he simply up and left. She supposed that may have been what he was aiming for. It bugged her in the essence that it would just be so easy to pull him aside and confess to him.

But would it be right? How would he react if she just suddenly tugged him outside or into an empty room and told him that she loved him... Just flat out told him. What would he say to that? Her mind, against her will, shuffled through several files, pulling out the memory of that dream. That wretched nightmare.

She hissed in air through clenched teeth, bowing her head and burying it in the palms of her hands, trying to hide from it. To push away those images, that dread that hung heavy and menacing in her stomach, the screeching voice in her concsience that told her it'd never work.

She had a low flame burning in her heart.

That flame that represented hope.

Flickering.

The sound of heavy footsteps carried across her room and down the hall invaded her thoughts.

She looked up from her palms, suddenly aware of the morning brightness.

(Damnit Milly, what the hell are you doing up so early?)

A scowl perched on her features, she decided that, despite how early it was, and how tired she felt, she'd go out and have breakfast with Milly, and act as normal as possible.

For Milly's sake.

She was such a sweet girl, and was just too innocent to believe. Meryl loved the girl fiercely, whether or not she showed it. She thought that despite Milly's child-favoring appearance, that the big girl was quite intelligent. Milly knew what was going on, and was not stupid. But she was like Vash, in certain ways. She centered her being on and clung to her beliefs of peace and innocence. Milly was pure.

Vash was pure.

He was so... so pure.

Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she sat for a moment, lingering on her thoughts of.. him. It was though, as said, only for a moment before she stood, stretching arms high over her head and yawning for the first time. She hadn't realized how tired she was. Coffee would be good.

Coffee...

Nothing more than a glance to the cup of (cold) coffee that had been abandoned last night, before taking a pit-stop at the bathroom adjoined to her room, and then out and starting down the hall. She didn't bother to don the tights, skirt, or mantle. She just stayed in her "nightgown", rather convinced that after breakfast with Milly, she'd make a hasty retreat back to her room to catch up on some sleep.

And to, hopefully, avoid him.

She stretched casually as she emerged into the kitchen, her chin lifted slightly, eyes closed as she spoke through a yawn.

"What are you doing up so early, huh?"

She stood still, arching a brow as she finished her stretch-and-yawn.

"Well... I thought I'd have some coffee,"

Her eyes shot open. That wasn't... Milly.

"because my first cup got a little cold. It's a shame how quickly the heat drains from the stuff, don't you think?"

His voice seemed a bit gruff, and she imagined that he'd had about as much sleep as she'd gotten. None. But it was also soft, a quiet sincerity caught in his tone.

A dusty pink flourished over her cheeks, which he in turn offered a gentle smile to. She remained where she was, her arms (that had been frozen momentarily in the air, stretch-positioning locked) simply hung at her sides, black-bruised strands hanging languidly in front of duel gray pools, which stared, entranced by a pair of certain turquoise-blues.

He was leaning against the rather bland counter, dressed, still, in the sand-bleached shirt and darker pants that she'd last seen him in. His hair was still a mess, sticking every-which way in a crazy rush of blond. He hadn't styled his hair up in a while, but she didn't mind.

Her thoughts, for reasons unknown to her, suddenly flocked back to the day she'd seen him without his shirt. Her blush deepened a great deal as she remembered the scars and metal that littered his body.

("It's not exactly something I like women to see. I think most of them would run away...")

His gentle smile widened a bit as he noticed the colour in her cheeks become even more intense.

("I wouldn't run away.. What I mean is, they wouldn't run away.")

He decided to break the silence then, offering a light chuckle, that gruffy edge to his voice sliding away.

"Something wrong, Meryl?"

She blinked, breaking from her reverie. His voice was awfully soft, and despite his words, the smile on his face seemed to give the impression that it's not exactly something he was worried about. Her gaze flashed to the counter, attempting to focus on that, rather than get caught up in his gaze again. Fumbling over her words...

"Er, no! I'm alright."

His smile stretched into a rather amused grin and he pushed himself off the counter.

"Feeling a bit sick?"

Her gaze stumbled back up to his, shaking her head a bit. What was so funny?

"N-no, I'm feeling better, now..."

He didn't respond, and it took her a second to realize why. He was taking long, yet casual steps towards her, making quick progress and shortening the gap between them.

What was he doing?!

She blinked, but before she had the chance to back away, he'd reached her, his arms wrapping about her small form, his hand splayed over the small of her back, holding her against him. He leaned down the slightest bit, that grin widening as he took note of the shock that was displayed over her features. He held for a short while, before his head bent slightly, his voice a low thrum that could almost qualify as a whisper.

"...Still cold?"

Her body was rigid in his embrace, her palms pushed against his chest, but not enough force applied to actually push him away. What was he doing!!!? She couldn't tell if he was being serious about this, or if he was just playing a cruel joke. And that hurt.

The palms that pushed against his chest suddenly pulled into tight fists, clasping his shirt, her voice wavering slightly. She sounded.. desperate.

"Vash?"

She sounded as if she were going to cry again, and that wrenched at his heart. He understood that she was confused, and that he was hurting her right now. Not physically, no, but emotionally. He tightened his embrace, his artificial hand sliding across her back, his arm holding her to him, his "good" hand moving up and setting against the back of her head, fingers weaving through her hair.

He closed his eyes as she exhaled heavily, and inhaled sharply, her hands moving from their defensive position and fell to encircle him as well, fists grasping to the material that covered his back now. That grin he flaunted softened into a more sincere smile as he felt her try to bury her head against his chest.

"I'm sorry, Meryl. I didn't mean to hurt you."

A choked whimper tore from her throat as her hold on him tightened. He was apologizing...

He didn't mean to hurt her. Was that the same as not wanting to hurt her? She didn't know but she liked to think that. She gave no reply, but knew that he understood. Her heart was pounding in her chest, she was amazed it hadn't leapt from her throat yet... She could feel his heart, too. A rhythmatic beating inside his chest, slightly heightened (though not as much as her own). It was.. so comforting.

He'd hugged her before but... that had been a lot different than the embrace they shared now. For one, last time it had ended with a swift slap... eh...

He suddenly tore himself away from her, and she couldn't help but give a muffled cry at his action. She jerked her head up and caught his gaze, which was even more apologetic now.

Milly had arisen, and was heading down the hall.

Only seconds and she was already desperately missing the warmth of his body, the security of his arms around her. It must have shown, too, because Vash started to move towards her again, but was interrupted when Milly shuffled into the room, glancing up.

"Oh! Good morning Mr. Vash! And.. Meryl! You're up!!"

A grey gaze lingered on a certain gunman before the petite form turned and nodded to Milly, offering a small smile.

"Good morning, Milly.. I'm sorry, though, but if you'd both please excuse me, I'd like to get back to my room..."

"But, Meryl?--"

She cut Milly's curious protest off with a gentle shake of her head and a soft smile, passing by the younger girl with a great deal of resistence of the urge to simply turn and run back to the warmth of Vash's arms. She beat that urge, though, and made it back to her room, where she collapsed onto the bed and wriggled into the sheets, not even giving herself time to linger on the situation.

She fell asleep clutching her pillow.

Milly blinked, she and Vash staring after Meryl.

One of them stared with a heavy longing in his heart.

"Mr. Vash? Do you think she's alright? She's been acting so strange lately, I'm awfully worried!"

Vash hid his frown and shrugged, turning to the coffee and pulling out two mugs.

"Yes, she's fine. She's probably just tired, is all."

Milly paused, gnawing on her lower lip a bit in thought, before nodding in agreement, and smiling heartily as he handed her one of the cups, full.

They made due with short conversation, and Vash settled for a bagel before eventually sauntering back into Knives' room. He paused once inside, glancing towards the bed. Something was out of place...and then,

"Good morning, dearest Brother."