A/n: Ah ! Thank you so much for reviewing ! You all make me update ! Truly ! Enjoy ! And, LW, 'upmanship' means when the romance is 'taken slowly.' Or so I've heard, anyway.
Disclaimer: I don't own YuGiOh! ™ . . . end disclaimer.
"Talking"
thoughts, emphasis
###-- scene change
# Day Thirteen: Mind If I Take Advantage of You? #
The flat eyes watched the two teenagers lying in the sand together. He had just arrived, and first marked his map. Then he prowled around in the nighttime stillness.
The boy was man in size, dressed in shorts and a very plain T shirt. Still, the man knew this was the infamous Kaiba. He was asleep, next to a much smaller girl, petite . . . and lovely in the light of the moon. They were side by side under a big palm frond, not touching except for the arm of the girl, which was flung out. She was also sleeping peacefully. An ocean breeze ruffled their hair.
I'll complete my mission later. First I have something to do first.
###
Seto's eyes snapped open suddenly.
What was that dream? He'd been dreaming that someone else was on the island with them, spying, watching. But that was impossible, no one knew that they were there . . . right?
Ow . . . He grimaced as he got up from his uncomfortable sitting position. Sand fell from his bare arms and legs. There were uncomfortable cricks on his neck that cracked as he stretched his back. What I'd give for Sonya, he thought. She was his personal masseuse . . .
Back home. . .
He then noticed Serenity stir. He hadn't known that she had been sleeping so . . . close. Stumbling a little, he hurried a safe distance away. She did the same things: Yawn, open her eyes, and stretch as he. Except she looked a lot better doing it. Just a casual observation. "Good morning!"she said.
A morning person . . . not something he was. Still, she was right, it was light-skyed outside, and the breeze was refreshing. And they were still alive. A bit windy, but no rain.
"Morning," he muttered, answering and staring into the horizon. He went towards the 'forest' to wash up; he still couldn't shake that dream off. I might as well take a look around to make sure of spies, he thought, dusting himself off as he walked. A satirical smile crossed his features.
I would tell her to stay put, but we all know that hasn't worked in the past, so . . .
###
"Why don't you sleep on the sand like me?" she said a few minutes later, joining him by the freshwater pond. It had rained a little last night, she got out the cans to catch water from the waterfall. He gave her a bit of a startled expression. "I saw you walk a bit stiffly," she explained, kneeling down.
He was thankful she wasn't washing too close. "A crab would crawl in my ear, with my luck," he grunted, patting his face dry with a clean cloth. She hadn't thought of that and felt her head to make sure nothing had gotten stuck or tangled in her long hair.. Since our hammocks have been ruined, I'd better wash them and hang them out to dry, she thought. It's pretty windy today
She told him that, between gurgles, while she washed up. "So you won't be stiff and you don't have to sleep on the sand anymore. Okay?"
"Okay . . ."
He said it softly, while handing over their single bar of soap. He looked at her, but she was looking at the soap. "Looks like it's getting pretty puny," she remarked.
"I guess. I'll get breakfast started," he said, getting up and disappearing through the brush before she could respond.
They ate their meager breakfast (unsalted wheat crackers with cold water) by the shore a few minutes later. He wasn't that hungry, and she didn't seem to have an appetite either. Serenity was looking at the box longingly, knowing it was best to save food for later. He was still thinking of that man in his dream.
"We have scissors, don't we?" he asked abruptly. The slate-greyness of the sky nearly matched his shirt, making it disappear.
"Um . . . let me check." The pack of supplies was still safe, back in the little granite cave with the food. "I'm pretty sure," she called, "yes, yes we do."
Good, he thought. Insignificant against a gun or something like that, but at least it's something. I didn't see anyone, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He frowned. "Still, it was just a dream."
"What? What dream?"
He jumped. Man, could she move as quietly as a mouse. Or maybe his nerves were shot. Her eyes were fixed on him as she handed him the scissors, waiting for him to answer. ". . . nothing, never mind." Seto decided that it was best not to let her worry about any spy. "Just . . . stay close for once."
"Okay," she said, amiable to this, sitting down not-too-far not-too-close beside an opposite tree. She'd fashioned a needle from a piece of wire and tore off a string from her jacket. Obviously, she planned to repair the hammock. It was pretty warm and humid day, muggy, so she left it to the side as she worked.
Shaking his head, he realized after a while she was curiously watching, wondering what he'd needed the scissors for. I can't tell her that I suspect a spy. So he started clipping the nails on his fingertips, as a diversion. They were getting a bit long, anyway. He cut and listened for anything other than the caw of seagulls, the ocean rush, and the soft click of the needle. "You better be careful," he warned. The last thing they needed was for her to prick her thumb.
"Oh, I am. I always darn my family's socks all of the time . . ." she paused. "What're you doing?"
"Trying to cut my hair, what does it look like." There was no mirror, not even something shiny to see his reflection off of. The wind howled. Plus, the scissors, small and metallic, looked like they were made for kindergartners! They cut into his thumb and were very uncomfortable.
"Er, need some help?" she offered from her post.
"No!" he said a little too harshly. The noise was too loud for her to hear, though. Oh well. Back to shaking it out of my eyes to see, he thought, letting his hands drop. But it could be dangerous not to see clear. " . . . " Especially if, his dream wasn't a lie . . . "How many years have you cut?" he said, looking her up and down, like at a job interview.
Oh, for heaven's sake.
"Um . . . a real long time," she said lamely, hoping it hadn't come out too sarcastically and suspecting he didn't want to hear anything else but that. What kind of question was that?
He said, "Good" and handed her the scissors. She wished she had bitten her tongue. Truth was, the only hair she'd cut was her own brother's and they all knew how that had turned out! Everyone knew how that had turned out.
Still, she reached out to take the scissors anyway. It fit a lot better on her much smaller one, but it was probably blunt as a pair of legs . . . as she opened his hand to take off the thumbhole from his finger, she noticed his hand was very large, compared, and the deep lines disappeared . . .
He was relieved when she finally took the darned scissors off. It must have been stuck; that was why for the delay. Seto suspected he'd made a mistake asking her. He knew that he'd made a mistake when she drew closer and sat down right in front on him, in a kneel to reach his head, and touched him lightly, finger-combing his longish locks..
He had to fight the urge not to back off and lean away. This was much too close; he could smell the lingering scent of soap on her creamy, pale skin. He tried to turn his head up, but that gave him a clear view of her neck and face; he tried to look left and right, but that would make him shake his head and the cut would come out wrong. Then he fixed his eyes down . . . but she was so close, all he could see was her very nice chest with it's highly-placed shelf . . .
I should have made her put her jacket back on--! The vision of her rising from the bath a few days earlier, naked as the day she was born . . . kept floating in his head. He started to picture leaning her back, and dotting her skin with kisses. Her choked gasping would be well worth it. A glance down at his hands brought him the horrifying news that they were inching, closer and closer, to her body. Slapping them helped, but only until they started on their quest again . . .
It got so bad that he had to literally sit on his hands. Dirty thoughts. Bad thoughts. She's only a girl!
He shut his eyes, then wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. The darkness was a welcome relief, and the gentle touch of her fingers through his hair made him feel very sleepy all the sudden. So relaxing . . . zzz . . .
Meanwhile, Serenity was having a hard time concentrating on her task too. In addition to her 'record', it didn't help that his face inched closer and closer to her neck, until his breath warmly caressed it, lightly and softly. I could swear he's doing it on purpose! The scissors slipped a bit. Making me mess up. She retained a firmer grip, trying to ignore the sensation, in vain. His fine, roasted-chestnut-colored hair was the fluffy kind that your fingers just sank, right through. It also did NOT help by choosing such a windy day to do this; the wind kept blowing it about. God, how am I supposed to do this?
She was trying to picture they way he looked before his hair got long enough to hang in his eyes--wait, didn't it always hang in his eyes?-- when, suddenly, Serenity felt a soft kiss, touch her neck like a pinprick. Gasping in shock, she quickly realized that he had fallen asleep, and merely leaned forward too far. She pushed at his shoulders so that he was leaning against the tree. Then she looked up again, and bit her lip. The sensation had made her cut off a piece of hair that should have stayed.
Good thing there are no mirrors . . . was all she could think of. It looked horrible; dangerously crooked now. But he shouldn't have done that! I know he was asleep, but sheesh. Scared me.
Serenity got out of her kneel to sit down instead, to prevent it from happening again. Besides, her legs were falling asleep, anyway. The blood that rushed into them was a welcome relief. Except, now she had a few problems. First, she had to reach up now more farther to reach his head. This she solved by folding her jacket up behind her back, and stuffing it underneath her and piling up the sand as well, so she was a bit taller. She sat up extra-straight as well. Second, she had no place to put her legs! They were too close to fold in front of her; he hadn't given her much room to without touching him. So she placed them over his, bent at the knee so they wouldn't be touching. At last, she started her concentration at cutting again.
But that was when Seto opened his eyes, slowly. It wasn't what it looked like, he knew, but it sure did look like she was wrapping her legs around his waist! "Are you done yet?!" he growled, making the scissors slip again from her grasp.
She felt like being an alien probed by that dazzlingly blue-opaled glare. "Almost," she squeaked, then clearing her throat. Another hair that should have stayed, as she watched, fluttered to his shoulder. And then to his chest. His eyes fell to her shoulder then; he could swear that the strap that was holding her tank top was getting flimsier before his eyes, so he forced his gaze up her slender, swan-like neck to her heart-shaped face as she hurried to finish. She had elfin features: dark, almond-shaped eyes, with an exotic curve at the corners, a small pixie nose, and peach-colored lips that looked enticingly kissable, even with her pink-bubblegum tongue that stuck out the corner of it as she concentrated on her task.
Oh, man. And couple that with my attraction to her . . . recipe for disaster. No doubt.
There was no doubt about that, but, anyway, his hands fell to the small of her back, pulling her closer, so they were only a hair's width apart. He told himself to stop, but he couldn't. His body seemed to have a new master's orders. Using a last resort, he started to think quickly, about everything she had done to him---it worked, but only for a moment--everything her family had done to him--nope--and then gross things, like-like bugs, cafeteria food sludge at school, the fact they hadn't bathed in a while . . .
The last one made him pause. Whew. Then Nope, only for a while; he'd started to then think about baths . . . with her . . .
"Would you stop staring at me? You're making me too nervous to cut properly," she said, glancing down at him and then looking back up.
Stunned, he continued to stare. She brushed all his hair over his eyes to make him stop. Sputtering, he shook his head so as to shake it out of his eyes--luckily, she hadn't been in the middle of a cut. A smile trembled and danced at one corner of her mouth.
He looked away, finally. Her rejection-sounding order had made him think of something in his past, something hurtful. Well, at least it made him stop his lustful thoughts. That was a relief. Just keep thinking of it . . . when his stepfather, Gozaburo, had made him sit in a chair. Surprised, he had watched as straps encircled his wrists and banded his ankles as Gozaburo had droned, "Never marry unless for money or a business deal . . . It's best to resist any womanly wiles, boy. Else, the company will surely crumble when she sucks it dry of funds. This will help quell that human side of you." He then proceeded to show him graphic slides. If he showed any emotion, he would receive an electrical shock from the chair . . . until he showed not any . . .
Seto grimaced at the memory of the slides. His stepfather was a very sick man. Had been a very sick man. He had died because starting on Mokuba.
Mokuba . . . how was he doing . . . ? Probably with child services now, or worse, foster care . . .
And I was yelling at him when the tornado hit us at sea . . .
"Something wrong?" Serenity spoke for the first time in awhile. There was a scowl on his face, and also a great deal of pain. She also could feel the tension in his posture, and the way he didn't look at her at all suggested suffering. There was a big pause.
"Nothing . . . never mind." He took a deep breath, holding it in and swallowing. "I just have to get home, that's all.
"Away from me?" she teased.
"Yes. Away from you." He leaned back as far as he could, looking down from his nose for a long while as if sizing her up, his arms dropping. His old smirk returned. "I was thinking of maybe kissing you, but why would I want to kiss the likes of you?"
He had meant it as an insult, and she looked surprised at first, then quieted and glanced down at her fingernails. Good. Now she would back off and get off, and hopefully, wouldn't cry. I hate it when they cry; drives me insane. Then she spoke.
"Well . . . that's a good thing, then," she said in this flat tone. And then "Because I don't have any qualms!" she launched herself at him and gave him a kiss, right on his smirk!
It was all done extremely to his surprise, and when she pulled away a bit, he could only gape at her for a split second; her smile was as bright as the sun on a cloudy day; it was hard to tell if she was embarrassed or not by her boldness. He took her hand, as they toppled over to the side on the floor and returned the smile, slightly, but surely.
She had only meant a peck, but it was clear he had other things in plan. Half on top of her and half not, he took the scissors and put it safely, the blades down, in the sand, his eyes locked on her all the while. She froze up and felt shivers run down her spine at the intensity of his gaze. Icy, intense gaze that seemed to see right into her. It seemed he was able to sommunicate everything he had to say with just a simple look. His hair hadn't come out very well, she'd done that best she could, but it looked kind of . . . short. Thank God there are aren't mirrors, she thought again, with an effort.
Because it seemed her brain was becoming fuzzy steadily. As was his. Despite his reservations, he still . . . wanted her and was confident she felt the same. She was scared, he could tell the way she shook when he dipped his head and ran kisses up the skin of her soft neck first, making her shiver all the harder. She's nervous, he thought, feeling it rack through his body. I'm not going to do anything to her . . . that I shouldn't, at least. But her arms clutched around his neck-- as if for dear life--even though she felt the soft sand at her back. He paused to look into her long, darkly lashed eyes for a long moment, warmly, his eyes soft, before zeroing back down to her delicately-shaped, plump lips; and pictured kissing them; softly, at first, then hard and deepening it. He cupped her chin, drawing it up slightly and she squirmed, but still held fast. His heart stopped; she looked so lovely; but hers beat faster as he drew extremely close again . . .
Plop!
Something hit the ground--a coconut-- and suddenly made him look up quickly, instinctively. If they hadn't fallen to the side earlier, it would have hit him on the head. There was a soft, screechy chatter right above, and as he looked up, he got a glimpse of a hairy tail in the trees. . .
"Excuse me," he mumbled, hoisting himself up. "I have to go catch dinner."
Serenity stared up, "Okay . . . I'll . . . just . . . wait . . . here. . . " to the air long after he hurried off.
That Night's Special: Monkey Head Stew.
To Be Continued.
A/n: Aw, they cooked the poor monkey ! Lol. I liked this chapter a lot, especially when she kissed his smirk right off. I always make the girl make the first move in all my fics. Refreshing change of pace. Even with the kind of depressing bit in the middle, I liked it. I felt I had to put it in; I don't like that Gozaburo anyway. He turned Kaiba into a robot. Then again, that is why I like Kaiba romance fics, because he learns to overcome what he's been taught, by that evil guy . . . anyway, be a doll and please review for me ! Muchos gracias !
