Raindrops
HeartKreuz
Disclaimer: If I owned Dragon Knights, I'd be drawing it instead of writing fanfiction about it. Heh. All hail, Mineko Okhami-sama!
A/N: Rath x Cesia, my favorite DK couple. Rated for…raging-hormones kinda comments. But is a lot more innocent than it sounds. :laughs: Enjoy.
Dedication: My lovely, yume-chan29:muahs, honey:
The rain came down hard, a heavy blitz of water against the leaves of looming trees, numerous puddles forming in large, muddy ditches.
Ebony hair wetly matted to parts of his face and the onslaught of winds bit at his bare skin. Still, his garnet irises were set in fiery disregard for his surroundings. For now, the chill in his bones didn't matter. Neither did the throbbing pain in his left leg or the beating in his ears.
The knight's only concern was for the limp body in his arms. She was in much worse condition. She had a number of slashes along her arms and legs, a particularly deep one carved into her side so that whenever he was forced to shift his arms she'd cry out. Her breathing was light but ragged even as she slipped into unconsciousness.
He cursed under his breath.
He'd have to find shelter soon or they both wouldn't make it out of this godforsaken forest alive.
Tiny puffs of vapor formed from his breaths due to the dropping temperature. The sky was slowly darkening.
Shit.
Night was approaching.
A thick fog crawled across the forest floor and slowly traveling upwards, worsening his already hazy vision. But…what was that?
The fire wielder's blood red eyes narrowed in concentration at a shadow in the distance.
Then gradually widened in both realization and heartfelt relief.
A cabin.
Determination etched more sharply onto his tired features as he headed towards the wooden structure.
Upon closer inspection, the cabin was dingy, abandoned most likely. Not to mention, small. Probably a single roomed home.
Not that he was complaining. He grasped purposefully on the brass knob, turned, and let himself and the young woman with him, in.
The door closed with an eerie snap. He'd been right. The cabin was meant for one person as there was but one stove, one chair, one window, one table, one frame, one everything. The place was covered in dust and ash and it smelled of musty soot.
He managed to crack a slight smile. It was safe haven.
Turning his attention back to the shivering girl in his arms, he dusted off the bed a bit before laying her down gently.
He winced for his companions condition, if anything, seemed to worsen. He ignored the sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach. The blood had seeped through her clothes, mixing everywhere due to the clinging rain on her pale skin. She couldn't seem to stop trembling.
The teen looked to the stove, hesitantly turning it on till he was met with a warm blast of heat and light. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion and slight worry. She hadn't stopped shaking.
She then coughed in a fit.
Dry. He decided. She needs to be dry.
From his waterproof pack, he took out a small white towel and gently patted her face and skin to rid her of the icy substance. He then, slid the cloth down her neck and across her shoulders.
He scoffed. Why did she wear clothes like this? And in the middle of the rainy season…
Training his eyes from her clavicle, revelation then hit. Hard.
His breath hitched and an unappeasable reddening formed across his cheeks.
Her clothes.
She…he gulped audibly. They were wet.
She couldn't stay in them.
Dazed gold eyes opened lazily. Only to meet a source of bright light.
She groaned, eyelids fluttering shut. She'd been drunk last night, for sure. This was the worst hangover she'd had in years!
As she attempted to sit up in bed, a sharp searing pain erupted from the left of her abdomen.
Cesia cringed audibly, quickly clutching her side. Pulling up her shirt slightly, she gazed upon white bandages tightly wrapped over a slightly pink circle. She'd been wounded.
What the…A thin strap fell from her shoulder and annoyed she yanked it back up. Only to have it fall again. Yank up. Fall down. Yank up. Fall down. Yank u--
For chrissake! She wasn't going shopping at that damn bargain market anymore…
In fact, she suddenly realized, the sides were a bit too stretched out for her tastes. And when she leaned forward a bit someone would totally be able to see…!
She twitched slightly, "…WHAT THE HELL?"
"Where are MY CLOTHES!"
Deep gold eyes looked to her bed…which wasn't hers either. As a matter a fact, (as she finally was sober enough to realize the entirety of the situation) the room was totally and utterly strange to her.
She wanted to scream, "How…! Where am…! WHO!"
A deep familiar voice from a corner of the room interrupted her rant. "Would you calm down? It's my shirt."
Her eyes narrowed and her ebony locks swished as her angry face glared to the voices owner. "RATH!"
From behind the warmth of the stove, he walked out. And she suddenly shut up.
…His upper half was naked.
Upon sight of his slight muscle tone, the lean frame, and bare skin, her face automatically heated up.
"What?" He hissed irritated. She was somehow happy to note, however, that the blushing took place not only on her part.
Looking away quickly, she asked, "Where…are we?"
Sighing, he pulled up the only wooden seat in the room and explained their story.
At the end, the redness of her countenance, if possible, only darkened, clearly visible against her white skin.
"So…what happened to my clothes?" She asked hesitantly…even as she already knew the answer.
He looked away, muttering embarrassed no doubt, under his breath. "…I took them off."
He then added hurriedly as if it was some kind of justification on his behalf. "It's not as if I hadn't seen you naked before."
Impossible discomfiture overtook her senses, causing her to explode in a confused rage.
"YOU!" She blazed. "DAMN YOU!"
She shut her eyes tight, the red of her cheeks flaring to match her temper.
"YOU…PERVERTED! JERK!"
God, how she wanted to hit him!
"YOU MOLESTING HENTAI!"
So she did. "Ow!"
"Yo-YOU IDIOTIC, BRAIN DEAD, LECHER!"
"YOU GODDAMN I-CHANGE-GIRLS-CLOTHES-WHEN-THEY'RE-UNCONCIOUS-HELPLESS--!"
"Shut up, Cesia!" He bit out, angrily. "Did you want to die?"
She quieted into silence.
"If I hadn't…" He gave her a meaningful look. "…Done what I had, you'd be frozen, dead."
Her raging conscience faltered a bit.
"Shit." He cussed. "It doesn't even matter what you say."
Again a fury exploded in her. "HEY! WHAT--!"
"I wouldn't have let you die."
"--DID YOU S—"
She stopped abruptly. Softer, "…What?"
Ruby clashed with gold for a length of time. "I…" he murmured again, "…wouldn't have let you."
Her features diminished into warmth with a mingling guilt. She just yelled at, accused of perversion, and not to mention was about to strangle, the person who'd saved her life…again.
She smiled gently, "Thanks."
He stubbornly shifted his gaze away from hers, walking back to absorb the warmth of the stove.
Overcome with the blame and burden, she disentangled her body from the warm, albeit a little dusty, covers. His shirt (she pinked yet again with the thought) came down mid-thigh when she stood but the length was good enough she decided.
He'd even let her keep her panties on.
His mood ticked he asked irritably, "Why is it that I'm the only one with an extra set of clothes?"
He turned to the bed when he was met with no answer, only to find it…empty.
"That's because you mess up often." Came the feminine voice from across the room.
He shifted his attention to her direction. And colored. Again.
There she stood, leaning her weight against the only table in the room. On the surface of wood, she had laid out their supply of emergency foodstuffs, studiously examining their varying qualities. But that wasn't the fact that had made the room so suddenly and so uncomfortably toasty.
The wind witch stood there clad only in his wife beater tank. Under it, he could still see hints of her not-so-little-girlish curves. From the hem of the shirt his eyes trailed along impossibly long, smooth legs till they finally met her small feet at the ground. The worst part was that whenever she would bend over…he could see…
He shook his head quickly. This was so…stupid.
"What the heck are you doing?" He managed to say in a somewhat normal tone.
Without looking back she merely replied, "Cooking."
"Oh."
Only the chopping of vegetables and the roar of fire ensued.
He silently came up beside her, watching her movements and the ease with which she cut her ingredients.
"What is it?"
"Vegetable stew."
"Why are you making it?"
"Because I know we're both hungry."
"Where'd you learn to cook?"
"I had to learn to feed myself because all the witch would give me was flesh."
"Did you like it?"
"I hated it."
"Do you like cooking?"
"Yes I do."
"Is it difficult?"
She sighed exasperatedly. "Rath…" she looked to him, a small grin upon her features. "Do you want to learn to cook?"
He smirked. "You still owe me a lesson."
She laughed softly, remembering.
He added, "And your life."
They shared a comfortable smile with this one. She then proceeded to roll her eyes and he grinned. In reality, she had saved his life more times than he could count…and in some cases, more than he wanted.
And so Cesia began to teach the eager student the basics of culinary art…even with only their limited supply of carrots, potatoes, spinach, a few corn kernels, and a small chunk of beef…even if it was only vegetable soup.
A sudden cut in his hand caused him to grimace. "Ouch."
"Rath!" She looked to the steel knife, "You bloodied my equipment!"
He glared slightly, answering in a voice dripping with sarcasm, "Oh, yes. You sure do care about me, huh."
She sent back an irritated glance. "Oh stop whining, you big baby."
The knight opened his mouth to protest…but no sound came as the fortuneteller had so simply plucked his own fingers from his grasp, placed her lips on the wound, and gently lapped up the blood with her tongue.
What the hell…His features stained to match his eyes.
But she just went about chopping again, acting normally, as if licking someone else's wounds was an everyday kind of thing…
He suddenly dropped the knife and returned to his spot in the room in front of the furnace.
She looked to his back, a question in her eyes.
"Che." He muttered, avoiding her look. ""I'll leave the cooking to you."
Shrugging, she returned to her chopping, totally missing the glazed darkening of his garnet eyes.
Cesia grinned proudly at her concoction. The savory scent of it smoked through the air, causing both current inhabitants of the cabin to lick their lips.
She couldn't remember when she had last eaten so the anticipation made her stomach gurgle rather loudly.
She took the steel bowl she'd made the stew in, brining it back over to the table where Rath was sitting, tapping his foot against the hard wood floor impatiently.
Rolling her eyes, she smiled all the same announcing, "Dinner is served!"
She placed the warm soup on the surface in front of him, taking delight with the fact his red eyes perked up a bit and with the way his mouth opened slightly as if tasting the steam.
Oh…The wind witch looked from the table, to the stew, to the chair, to Rath, to the spoon in his hand, to the bowl. She then, looked around hastily and realized something.
There was one of everything. Everything. Every single thing.
Which meant (oh, what a surprise) one table, one bowl, one chair, and one spoon.
Before beginning to feast, the Dragon Knight noticed as well.
Sighing audibly, Cesia knelt to the ground. There, now he could use the chair.
Groaning, oh, yes, the bowl and spoon. The soup was hot (and they both preferred that it stayed that way) so either of them eating with their hands was highly unlikely. What to do, what to do.
Her tummy grumbled yet again. She clutched it, letting out a huff of breath. How she wanted to eat…
"Damn, stop being so prissy." He evaded her eyes out of clear embarrassment. He then scooted over so he half occupied the chair. He then murmured quietly, "I'm…sure your ass isn't that big."
Whether that was meant to be some sort of insult or a compliment or a pervy-sorta remark, she felt the heat rush to her cheeks nonetheless. She hmphed, though, in an attempt to redeem herself.
Then she sat down beside him.
The side of his body was pressed at an angle against her own, their bare shoulders touched, and she suddenly factored in how there was very little material clothes-wise between them.
'GAH.' Her face probably rivaled one of a tomato. She wasn't supposed to be thinking this way!
Her violet bangs fluttered across her shuteyes as she shook herself out of it.
It was his stomach's turn to grumble this time.
Ok. The seat thing was covered…to an extent. Now, how to go about the actual eating?
She shifted a bit and so did he.
Hell, this was uncomfortable. The grinding and sliding of skin. 'Out of the gutter, out of the gutter, out of the gutter!' her mind repeated like a mantra.
DAMN IT. The guy was HALF NAKED.
"This isn't working." She finally managed to say. "I think, I'll just go back to the floor."
Grunting, he replied, "You're so picky."
"What?" She questioned, giving him a cool look, "You want me to sit on your lap?"
She giggled slightly when he colored, rolling his eyes. He took the expanse of the whole wood surface again.
He didn't even bother refusing. "Whatever."
"Is that an invitation?" She grinned a bit.
His response was something she wholly did not expect from anyone and especially the likes of the Fire knight before her.
She blushed in turn when he said, "If you want it to be."
They finally decided on a position to eat.
The lap thing had been a joke, of course. A nice big crackin' hoax. Finally, it was she the embarrassed one, the blushing-like-an-idiot one, not the usual vice versa. He snorted, as if he'd want her on his lap.
…Right.
To his chagrin, she was quick with these kind of remarks. She had offered to feed him…which he blatantly refused.
She laughed and he angrily, shamefully heated up yet again. As if the psychological tally of victory-worth comments they both kept in mind had never been changed.
He seethed silently.
They had the moved the table with great difficulty over to the bed. So much difficulty (which was weird as the two were considered half of the four most powerful beings in all the land) as the table hadn't been moved for many years, that they had gone and created a nice gaping foot wide foot high hole in the wall.
Lazily, they threw some fire wood logs over the makeshift window. A frigid draft breezed in now and again. But to the two demons, it didn't matter at the moment, as both were too busy savoring the feel of the languid liquid running down their throats.
Cesia, sitting on the bed at one edge of the table shared the spoon with Rath, who sat on a chair on an adjacent side. It didn't matter that much, either, he realized. He'd never feel more comfortable sharing a spoon with anyone else.
"So." She said when it was his turn to use the utensil. She always started conversation. "How was your day?"
Ah. A stupid question for the sake of stupid conversation. "Normal," was his stupid answer.
He handed her back the spoon. "Oh?" She sipped the warmth delicately, " So is it everyday you get trampled on by an army of demons?"
He growled. He always hated being beaten by any demon of any sort. It was one of his personality complexes, she supposed.
"You forgot to mention the fact you fainted midway." It was his turn to smirk. "Then again, we couldn't really expect more, now could we?"
"Maybe," Damn, she was a quick wit, "it was because I had to save your sorry ass by blowing a majority of them up with my wind powers."
Glowering, he took a long sip of the rich stew. "You didn't need to use up THAT much power. They were low class yokai."
"Yeah." She replied, "Who were kicking your ass."
"There was like a million of them!"
"Which is why I had to use my wind to rescue you!"
His garnet irises darkened, narrowing. An uncomfortable pause, and then in a hushed hiss, "I didn't ask to be saved."
Another period of silence ensued.
Controlling the anger swirling within her, she looked him straight in the eye, the golden tint compelling him to stare back.
"I wouldn't have let you die."
His words from not too long ago today, he realized. He heard the sound of the spoon clatter in the empty bowl signaling the end of the vegetable stew. He averted his gaze, but still, he remained unmoving.
"Don't forget." He turned back to her to find her smiling cheerily, having the flames of her infamous temper fanned down. "My vow."
She was trying to lighten the tenseness. He blinked, then half smiled. It'd been her promise.
How could he ever…?"And!" He noted her gentler, happier tone, "You saved mine too."
A brush of warm lips upon his cheek caused him to halt all bodily movement. His heartbeat thumped faster against his ribcage, slowly taking in the unfamiliar sensation. It was…nice.
"Thanks, again." She said sincerely, taking the bowl and spoon off the wooden surface of table. She took them to the wall hole, and placed them out there as if the downpour were a dishwasher.
She then added cheekily, "If you hadn't carried my wet, soaking, unconscious body to this secluded cabin in the middle of nowhere, only to proceed to take off my clothes so that I may wear only your extra shirt and my lace underwear, then I surely would have met my untimely end."
Cesia laughed as his face heated up…again.
He groaned.
Cesia- 567 Rath- 3
From the looks of it (not that they could really tell as it was so damn cloudy and wet outside), it was a bit late but neither teen felt the pull of sleep come claim them.
"I'm…bored." Her companion ground out.
She nodded in agreement. "Well, it's not like we have much to do."
"No cards…"
"No shops…"
"No pranks…"
"No Zoma…"
"No sparring…"
"No books…"
"There are demons…" His tone suggested…
She glared, "…But its too cold."
"For you."
"Shut up." She then patted the spot on the bed next to her. Rath sent her a confused expression, but hesitantly sat down where she had indicated anyway.
"Let's play Connection then." She suggested hopefully.
He didn't reply, a sign for her to go on.
"Ok. You know how to play, right?" She questioned.
He shook his head, his interest obviously captured.
"Well, all you have to do," she moved a bit so that she could face him, "is say a word. Then I say the first word that comes to mind. Then you say the first word that comes to mind, and so forth and so on."
He twitched, "That's stupid."
She sent him a warning glower, "If you hadn't noticed, that nice big hole in the wall (her tone suggested it was all his fault…which it in fact, was.) is causing the cold to enter."
"At least we'll have something to do to get our minds off the weather."
Grunting, "Fine. It's not like two totally alone teenagers can do anything else with nothing but one table, one chair, one bed…"
They paused with that and she exploded in a fit of light giggling.
The fire knight gave her a blazing look that clearly shouted a, 'I didn't mean it that way.'
"You start." He started with as much ease as he could muster.
"Ok!" She cheered, "No repeating of words or you lose. No stopping till the other person can't think anymore. And remember, the FIRST thing that comes to mind. Please be quick about it."
"Demons."
"Kill."
"Blood."
"Hunt."
"Animals."
"Yokai."
"Evil."
"Destroy."
"Create."
"Die."
"Demons."
Cesia bit out frustrated. They weren't going anywhere. "Please, try having a normal thought for once, okay?"
He glared, but she began again.
She rubbed her hands together, "Cold."
He didn't have to blink when he replied, "Rain."
"Water."
"Drown."
"CPR."
"Mouth."
"Lips."
"Kiss." She raised an eyebrow at that one, but he angrily waved his hand, a signal to keep going.
"Love."
"Sex." What the hell? She half smirked as he reddened irritably. The guy did have hormones.
"Babies."
"Trouble."
"Pranks."
"Rath."
"Need." His turn to stare a bit. Now, how did his name remind her of need?
"Want."
"Blanket." A corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile. So did he.
"Warm."
"Co-" she stopped herself, suddenly remembering that word had already been used. "Shiver."
"Wind."
"Cesia."
"Love."
She grinned, "Hah!" A hearty victory caused her crack up in chuckles. "That word's been used already! You los—"
And she stopped. The words began to formulate once again, and the meaning finally reared its big head.
He, Rath the dragon knight who absolutely despised the demonic race (even as he was one himself), had connected her name—Hers, Cesia—to…love.
The part-time fortuneteller blushed considerably with the sudden revelation.
A pregnant pause lingered till she turned a red-stained face to look up at him.
His expression was one of an embarrassed, nervous teenager but quite serious nevertheless.
He hadn't even tried to refute his statement, yet!
The girl laughed uneasily to break the tension, "Oh! You meant hate!" She poked his arm, avoiding his direct gaze purposely, "I get it! Because you…hate…me…"
When he didn't respond, a heavy quiet rested in their cabin. Internally, the female demon 's feelings and beliefs were shifting this way and that in a very confusing thought process.
That couldn't have been a confession. Never in a million years would he ever…Right?
The face he made dropped the already frigid temperature a degree. He muttered a cold, "Forget it." Then, he proceeded to lie down on the bed.
No goodnight or anything! No explanation, no definition.
She punched his arm lightly, a weight on her heart. Not even confirmation.
"You…!"
She got up from the creaky comforter, attempting to take out her anger, her anticipation, her frustration, and not to mention, her guilt out with a good pace in front of the warm stove.
Her eyes softened when she gazed upon his bare back.
Maybe…he hadn't been joking around after all.
Something plucked at her heartstrings, constricting. She hated this.
He continued laying there, unmoving and cold-shoulder-ing her.
Cesia shut her eyes tightly and rubbed her unclothed arms as the frigidity of the piercing winds came at her in an ambush. Her teeth chattered and she began to tremble slightly.
"Oh, shit!" He heard her curse. With it, he felt a storm of chill slash at his back. The stove's fire had suddenly gone out
Yet, he stubbornly ignored his surroundings trying to surrender to the depths of dreamland.
"Damn it, Rath!" Her voice cracked. It must have been cold standing there.
"How the hell am I going to sleep?"
The fire knight shrugged, and then uncaringly draped the blanket over himself.
Goddamn it, it was cold. Were the gusts blowing in through the numerous holes in the thin cloth?
He felt pressure fall onto the bed and soft hair brush against his comforter. He could hear the sound of her shuddering.
She then gently, quietly, whispered a, "I'm sorry."
The female yokai then smiled. Even as the bed was a single, made for but one person, he scooted over a little anyway.
"Thanks," she said sincerely.
The young man snorted in reply, still refusing to look to her.
She lay down beside him, under the covers. They lay there in complete silence and immobility.
That is, till she moved and he stiffened. Her lithe arms had made their way around his waist, her hands wrapped against his chest, and it felt as if she were pressing the entire length of her body, even when there was so little between them, against him.
He shifted a bit, not daring to utter a word. What the hell…?
She then murmured into his neck, making his skin flame as well as his face. "Body heat."
After overcoming the shock and the obvious absurdity of their position, Rath melted into comfort. It felt…really good.
Impossible as it seemed. Her beside him, that is.
Before drifting off, she muttered a quiet, almost inaudible, whisper into his back.
It sounded suspiciously along the lines of, "Good night, love."
A/N: And….done! See? Pervy-ness, huh. :grins: It's just that both Rath and Cesia are teenagers already. Of course, they'd get these kind of thoughts once in a while! It just so happens that, in my fic, I put them in a scenario where those once-in-a-while thoughts come...frequently. :laugh: My first fanfiction ever, so I'm not quite sure how this all goes. Please, go easy on me. I don't appreciate flamers!
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