"Gabrielle, are you happy here?" He asked her. Her gaze turned from the window.
"Yes." She said, looking out the window, trying to see Earth, the blue planet that they called the 'Mystic Moon.'
"You can't be." He said, tilting his head slightly. "You've been acting so strange lately."
"Oh, I just... I miss everyone back home. But, what really is home? Is this home? Is there home? Am I ever going back...? Where I come from... People don't just get sucked into other worlds through beams of light every damn day!" She exclaimed. "I'm only coming to terms that I have no family now." She said, looking at him. He was silent for a moment.
"You're not the only one." Dilandau near whispered.
He suppressed the prancing urge to say, 'I'll be your family. We can start one.' But it was difficult. "I have no family, either. Well, that's not entirely true. Jajuka is my only family. That and I... guess you could say the Dragonslayers are, too." He said, and she smiled.
"I lived with my mother. My mother and father were never married and split up when I was fairly young. I never saw my father as much as I wanted to. No brothers or sisters, just me." She said.
"Jajuka said I have a brother, but he doesn't know what happened to him. Jajuka is the first one I remember. I don't remember any of my really young childhood... But I guess that's natural." He said, and shrugged a shoulder. "Then Zaibach took me away from him when I was pretty little. I never saw him since until just a few days ago. While you were gone." He explained.
"Yeah. I miss my friends and everybody. It's kind of hard to accept... but my home and my life is here now, so I have to adjust. Yes, I guess the Dragonslayers are kind of my family now, too, in a way." She said, and smiled. "But yes, I am happy here. I just miss my old home, that's all. I'll get over it. I'm a pretty adjustable person." She said.
"I've noticed." Dilandau replied.
"Libra trait." She said and smiled, rolling her eyes to denote she wasn't being very serious at all. He looked confused. "Oh, a Libra is the sign of the Zodiac. The Zodiac is devided up into twelve signs, one for each month. Whichever month you were born under tells you your sign. The signs are determined by the movement of the planets. Whichever sign you are closest to is the personality you are more like. For example, you may be under the sign of Saggittarius, but the birth date is closer to the next month's sign. The person will have characteristics of Saggittarius, but be more like the next sign. October... I mean, 'Orange' is under the Libra sign. What's your birthday?" She asked him. "Red, eighth moon." He replied. "Red... August. You'd be an early Leo. Personality suits you perfectly." She said, smiling.
"What day was it when I came here?" She asked him, wanting to know how long it had been. "Orange, fifteenth moon. Nine hundred hours and eleven minutes." He said quickly, and it surprised her that he knew the exact time. She smiled.
"That's right, isn't it... I came here after my birthday." She said. "Seems so far away!" She laughed.
"You've been here exactly four months, eleven days... twelve hours, and..." He checked a clock. "Twenty minutes." She laughed a little.
"You're exact, aren't you?" She said, smiling at him.
"I guess." He said, sipping at the wine. He sloshed it around in the glass. When to say it... When to say it... He thought repeatedly. He stared avidly at the dark red liquid, swirling from the centrifugal force.
The waitress came back with a large plate of spaghetti. It didn't have sauce. She had two steaming ceramic jugs in her hand, presumably holding the sauce. "I'm so sorry, please accept my apologies, I forgot to ask. Will that be the horsemeat sauce or beef?" She asked politely.
"Horsemeat, please." Dilandau said, and Gabrielle felt her stomach turn over. She loved horses. The thought of eating one made her feel a slight bit queasy. She looked at her lap, crossing and uncrossing her fingers. Dilandau saw her expression, politely hid by looking to the side. It was too late, the waitress had already poured the sauce on the spaghetti, and Dilandau didn't care to send it back.
The waitress left. "Sorry. I like horsemeat. You should have said something." Dilandau said, and Gabrielle looked up.
"Oh, I've never tried it... I just... I..." She said but trailed off.
"... You like horses. It's okay, I like horses too. They use horses that can't work anymore, and they kill them in a very painless way." He tried to be comforting but found himself being quite short.
"So, what about you? What was it like back where you live?" He asked, and she told him, in between eating. She avoided the meatballs still, however.
"Just try them." He finally said, after she'd finished her story.
"Try what?" She asked. He gestured to the chunks of horsemeat. "Nnn..." She made a very slight, barely audible sound of hesitation. Dilandau smiled.
"Go on. I order you. Eat one." She still stared at the thing, fork in her hand. "Come on. You're still in my squad, I can order you to. Eat one." He said, in a relaxed but firm voice. She gingerly poked it with the fork.
"It's not going to whinny and run away," He said, smirking. She gave him a playfully poisonous look, but gracefully brought it to her mouth and chewed the tender meat. It was quite good, and the spices in it were pleasant. It was good, besides the nagging pictures of Black Beauty in the back of her mind, which she tried to ignore.
They finished eating, and the waitress brought the dishes away, balancing them carefully, a stack in each hand. She looked out the window and focused on the glare, checking to make sure there wasn't anything on her face. She hadn't noticed Dilandau had done the same. It had been several hours that they'd stayed there; from nine to midnight. She leaned forwards gracefully, and rested her chin on her hands. She was getting just a little bit sleepy.
Okay, it's after dinner. He thought rapidly, hiding his panicked, nervous thoughts easily. His expression betrayed nothing but a little bit of casual thought. Tell her... Now. No. Not now. Yes. What other chance do I have? He also hid the shaky adrenaline he had flowing through his system.
"Dilandau," She implored.
"Yes, Gabrielle?" "I was just wondering... When I was gone... Were you sick or something?" She asked. "Just out of curiosity." She added. Well, the butterflies just exploded in his stomach. Here it was. The perfect opportunity. His thoughts ground to an immediate halt.
"Beg of your pardon?" He asked politely, just to stall for a precious second while he thought of something to say.
"Oh... Nothing..." She said.
"No, what did you say?" He asked, chasing after the subject.
"Oh, I... I just asked if you were sick while I was away, because after I got back you looked like you had been." She said, and all while she was repeating this, Dilandau was debating with himself at the speed of light to figure out what to say. He felt his palms get a little bit sweaty.
"Yes, and no." He replied. His mind absolutely ranted and pulled at him, as if it were a version of himself strangling the other half. His mind was screaming at him so loud he was almost surprised that she couldn't hear it.
"No and yes?" She asked.
Tell her of your feelings! His mind yelled.
"Well... I, uh... It's just that I now... I mean, I..." He started and stopped like a guymelef with a faulty hydraulics system.
"Oh, you don't need to explain if you don't want to.I don't mean to pry." She said lightly, amd smiled softly.
Oh, if only you knew. If only I could say it! Part of his mind softly said. The voice was growing less and less angry, and more and more sad and desperate. It was fading with every breath that he used not to say those words to her.
What if she doesn't love me, too? Came rejection's voice from back in his head.
What happens then? What if? He listened to this voice momentarily. He swallowed hard, his mouth dry. He'd never experienced this before - Fear, yes, but this had no chance of killing him. Purely emotional fear, and none of it instinctual. It was all very strange.
"Dilandau, are you alright? Maybe we should go, you look rather..." She trailed, concerned for him. He was staring at the table cloth, furrowed in rapid contemplation still listening to these little disembodied bits of his split conscious in his head. Without looking up, he nodded quickly, and that started a massive mental explosion of screams of denial and pleas to tell her to stay.
"No, Gabrielle, please sit down. I have something to tell-" He started, and he was cut off.
The slim Melchian waitress had come walking up. "Oh, please forgive me, I am so sorry to intrude again. Our time scheduler has made a mistake with the table reservations, and this table is reserved to another couple in a matter of minutes. We are so sorry for this inconvenience, and we'll charge everything half price because of this mistake." She said in a genuinely sorry tone, bowing repeatedly. "We must ask that you leave. We have tried to find another table for you, but all are full. We are so sorry!" She repeated. Dilandau nodded.
No! We can't just leave! That's not the way this is supposed to end! He thought, totally confused, and furthermore, destroyed.
I'm supposed to tell her that I love her more than anything, and it's supposed to end with a kiss. Not with being forced out of the restaurant because of timetable mix-ups! No... No, this can't be happening, no... He thought, utterly despaired and enraged. Not another chance gone... Not again, this was supposed to be it... No! He felt he could just scream. A redness of rage filled his body, but he suppressed, lest he succumb. He nodded his head curtly in acknowledgement and payed them the bill without another word.
I hope I can tell her. Somehow. He thought.
They stopped out in front of the beautiful glass doors. The rain was pouring just a few feet in front of them. It seemed to reflect what he felt. Something as new, fresh and gentle as rain, yet marred with sorrow.
"Great," Dilandau said sarcastically.
"What do we do?" She asked.
"I'll 'Com Jajuka. He can get a car down here. I'm not going to stand for you getting wet." He said softly, finding himself unable to even reflect his sour mood on her. He flipped out a device that looked something like a simple pager. He rapidly pressed keys.
"He'll send one down." Dilandau said. "Until then, we wait." Dilandau said, staring up past the roof into the dark skies.
Gabrielle shivered from the wind. Her back and shoulders were exposed to the night, and it was cold. Her scarf fluttered behind her. She tightened it, even though that did almost nothing to help. She said nothing. He turned around and saw her holding her shoulders.
"Cold?" He asked.
"No," She replied.
"Don't lie." He said flatly. A ghost of something comforting came from him that she sensed. She looked up to him and couldn't help noticing... He just looked so handsome. She watched as he unbuttoned his jacket and put it around her shoulders.
"Thank you." She said shyly. She pulled it tight about her. He was warm, and the jacket was, too. It also smelled nice.
He had on a simple black arrow-collared shirt, and she thought he looked very, very good in that. Very good. He looked back at her over his shoulder. Some mental part of her squirmed in a girlish fashion. Thoughts coursed through her mind. She walked up to him and stood watching the sky with him.
The clouds churned in the dark night. The moon illuminated things as best it could, but it could only do so much. Dilandau put one of his arms slowly, and filled with uncertainty, about her waist and they kept each other warm.
A car descended down from the bad weather, and Gabrielle and Dilandau got on. She passed him his coat once they got on the car, because it was warm inside. She watched the city grow smaller and smaller as the cab lifted up and sped away and up. She leaned her head against the back of the seat, and she closed her eyes. The ride was only about twenty minutes long. She entwined her fingers with the unresisting Dilandau's as she sat in the car, gently dozing and listening to the rain.
The car's jolt as it landed woke her with a start. She opened her eyes and found herself leaning on Dilandau's shoulder, his head resting on top of hers. She gently unfolded herself from him, and they stood up. They exited the car, and Gabrielle thanked the driver. Dilandau did nothing of the sort, he was huffy that the driver had taken so long. He paid him his money without a word. His mind still swam.
What am I going to do? What will I say to Jajuka tomorrow? 'No, I just chickened out on one of the most important nights of my life.' I cannot do that. I shall lose face.
"I'm going to go to my quarters," She said to him.
"I'll walk you there." He said, and then it occurred to him. They made their way up to the hallways, past doors, and all the way Dilandau was thinking what to say. Butterflies were fluttering in his stomach again, even more than before. After what seemed like only half a second to Dilandau, there they were. At her quarters. This was it. His last chance for tonight. Could he do it?
Gabrielle punched in the code. The door opened, and she left it, turning back to him. "Hey. Thanks for taking me out tonight, I had a wonderful time," She said, and her kind smile made him feel like more butterflies were emerging out of cocoons in his stomach. So nervous.
"So did I. I'm glad you came." He said calmly. This time there were no manic, desperate voices, only him, and only her. She kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight, Dilandau. Thanks so much again." She said, a little unsure as to what to do with herself as well. She shyly stepped back to shut the door. Her hand was on the button. Now or never!
She pressed it. "Wait," He said, and she stopped the door.
"Yes?" She asked looking into his eyes. He took a deep breath. He was shaking so badly inside he thought she must hear his heart pounding and his skeleton clicking.
"There is something I have been trying to say to you all night." He took another deep breath, and she was listening avidly. "If I don't say it now, I don't think I ever will."
He had begun the dance, and now it was up to him to finish it. Leaning against the doorframe, he let his head touch it as well, casting his eyes downwards. She watched his thin, fit frame sigh as he searched for words.
"There's just something about you... Ever since you've come here I've felt an abrupt change in me. I am unsure of myself, and I feel things I've never felt before. Things that I've never wanted to feel before.'
"For the truth to be told I must admit that when you were taken away I discovered something. I've been full of anger and hate my entire life, and It's taken you being almost killed for me to put that discovery into words. I realized that, well I took you out to dinner to say this to you, but things got..."
Who would ever have thought that I, so vain, would come to doubt myself such as this.
"I love you."
The lengendary head commander of the Dragonslayers, the infamous cold-blooded and psychotic, ruthless, flame-weilding killer of the Zaibachian army leaned defenseless against the door.
Gabrielle had stood against the doorframe as she listened. Her hand was held up to her mouth. She finally took it away. She put one hand to her shoulder, watching him as his eyes closed. The fixated staring on the floor was apparently even too much for him.
"I'm aware that you probably do not feel the same, but I... Needed to let you know."
The silence was murdering him. Perhaps it was his syntax? His heartbeat pulsed quickly in his throat as he searched avidly for something to say. He was about to turn away in hot shame, when he felt her embrace, loosely cast around his midsection. Her hand ran up and down his spine. He found it exceedingly pleasant, and even allowed himself to relax a little in her arms. He still stood stiffly.
"Gabrielle, I..."
He started, unable to take the quiet, but was cut off by her lips to his. Her arms cast about his shoulders, and he found himself being the recipient of a very unexpected kiss. It seemed to steal all his words away, because as Gabrielle tucked herself to him, he laid his chin on her head, mute.
"I love you too, Dilandau," She whispered. They stayed like that for a moment.
He cleared his throat, thinking again. This was all so strange. Surreal.
"Please, come inside." Her voice was soft, and she took his hand. He did not protest the touch.
"Please forgive me... I'd like to get changed." Gabrielle said quietly. She took off her shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed like she did normally. "I'll be out in a minute." She said with a soft smile, and walked into the small bathroom she had, carrying her nightclothes.
Gabrielle leaned against the wall of the bathroom as soon as she closed the door behind her. Closing her eyes, she smiled greatly with joyous relief, and yet sorrow. Dilandau was her commander. How would this affect him as a leader? Forcing her thoughts aside, she transferred them to him, sitting out in her quarters.
She changed quickly, and emerged after a few minutes in her nightclothes and her housecoat. Dilandau had taken off his jacket and was sitting politely and collectedly upon the edge of the bed, watching her. He fantasized about pulling her onto the bed with him, kissing her all over, from her lips and down her body to her stomach. It surprised him to think this way... With such a thirst, yet not for water or for blood. It frightened him.
Gabrielle was walking over to the bed casually, when she stopped in the middle of a step. A blinding white flash seared through her head, slicing all her thoughts in half and replacing them with an eerie feeling. She only saw a flash, and then the sight came.
She saw a man appear out of the side of the room, holding a needle.
"Relax," He said, but he didn't sound very comforting. She did not consciously do anything to make her body move. It was moving on its own.
"Dilandau!" She heard her own voice shriek, dampered by irrepressable fear.
"He's not here." The man in the white coat with the needle said. Still, she shrieked his name, blindly hoping that maybe he would hear her. "We need you conscious, so it won't knock you out," The man said. She still struggled and feebly called out Dilandau's name again.
"You just won't be able to move. You can breathe and blink and talk all right, but you can't move." The man said. It wasn't Dr. Jerrick, she realized. He advanced, and the fear took her over.
She thrashed and screamed and tried to get away, but she was absolutely helpless. She felt the needle prick her skin, and the mind-wrenching fear increased almost to breaking point. The blinding white hot flash exploded through her head again.
"Gabrielle?" A frightened male voice implored her, and she felt her shoulders being shaken. She shook her head and opened her eyes, finding herself lying on the bed, Dilandau on top of her and shaking her shoulders. The fear still poisoned her mind, and confusion mired her thoughts.
"What? Where?" She gasped.
"Are you okay?" He asked worriedly, still sitting on top of her. She nodded her head.
"What happened?" He asked. He didn't move.
"... I s-saw something," She stammered.
"What did you see?"
"I don't know exactly, but it was unbearably frightening." Her voice was barely above a whisper. Her arms grasped his tightly, with a strength only an adrenaline rush could give.
"I thought you'd had a heart attack." He said, and smiled with his relief.
"Oh," She said, somehow not surprised at his assumption. It certainly had seemed like one.
Dilandau just seemed to realize he was on top of Gabrielle. He wanted to get off of her and aplogize for the sake of being polite, but raging hormones made him want to stay there. He liked being there, and he didn't know why, but something primal within him did. He was confused by this sudden rush of feeling. It felt like he was high up in the air, and then started to drop. It was almost exhilarating, but he felt he desired something. He didn't get it.
That feeling like he wanted to be close to her resurfaced. Close... So close that he didn't get how it was possible. She made no move to push him off, and he just sat there, supporting himself with his arms now, his legs on either side of her stomach. The feeling was monstrous inside him. He couldn't help thinking about it. He was thinking about bending down and starting to kiss her, moving down all the way to her bare stomach, and back up again, all the while her stroking his hair... His eyes were large, pupils contracted to mere pinpoints as he thought of this. He blinked, snapped out of his fantasy, and Gabrielle smiled shyly. She wanted to sit up, but he was sitting right on her abdomen and prevented her. She tried to, and the tightening of her muscles made his mind go wild. She sat up on her elbows, near nose to nose.
He felt very warm, and he didn't know why. The heat hadn't gone up in the room, nor was he in especially warm clothing. She touched his cheek with her hand, and he thought he could leave his body and float upwards from her soft touch.
He was beginning to let his shell crack and fall from him, inside these small walls of Gabrielle's quarters, away from prying eyes. It was strange and confusing. These feelings were so deliciously good... But why? What was 'good?' She moved her arm, and he followed it, eyes closed. She brought it right to her nose, and he followed. She rubbed his cheek softly, and then she kissed him. Perhaps he should just succumb...
Spreading his glossy wings, he felt his body go into overdrive. He almost lost control and undid the housecoat. He wanted to... More than want, need. It would feel so right if he undid that housecoat... But why? Why did he want to? He didn't care. Questions, reasons and answers were melting away fast in his head. The concepts were increasingly foreign. The fact was that he wanted to, and if the hormones didn't stop rampaging through him, he was going to. Soon. He wanted to!
He backed off of her. Gabrielle sat up cross-legged, and looked at him, a soft blush gracing her expression. His wings were still spread, and she touched one of the soft primary feathers. With a gentle flap and a slight movement, he enveloped her in his warm black wings.
In the neatly folded walls of his wings, he felt his hand drawing ever nearer to the knot securing the housecoat. Just one pull on the string of the bow and it would come undone. Then, he could do whatever it was something within him was telling him to.
Undo the knot and slip off the housecoat.
The something had taken over all of his other thoughts, driving him closer and closer to her, and closer to undoing that knot. That knot had become an obstacle, a symbol in his mind of temptation and all the righteousness he'd ever avoided. His hand rested on it, the tight knot securing the fabric in the spot that covered her smooth, flat stomach. His fingers grasped the string of the knot, just beginning to pull it undone.
Psssht. The hydraulic hissing announced the opening of the door. Sudden panic filled Dilandau, and his wings tightly retracted. In his haste to turn he nearly toppled off the bed. A hot, embarrassed rage seeped into his veins.
"You flaming imbecile, doesn't anyone know how to ring a bell?" Dilandau snapped in an annoyed tone of voice.
"It's late at night, and we were... Just learn how to ring a bell, for Christ's sake!" Dilandau snarled. Jajuka was taken aback, and apologized.
"So sorry, Master Dilandau. I hadn't known you were in here! I forgot to, I'll never make the same mistake again." Jajuka said pleadingly, and went down on one knee. Dilandau narrowed his eyes.
"Make sure you don't." He growled threateningly.
"Get up." He snapped. "What was it you had to so urgently tell me that you forgot to ring the doorbell?" He asked irritably.
"We have found someone that may be of use to Gabrielle. This girl says she knows her, Master Dilandau." Jajuka explained.
"So? What's that got to do with me?" He screeched, clearly enraged.
"Apoligies sir, forgive sir, but you are in her quarters, sir." Jajuka rapidly spoke, dipping his head respectfully to enunciate his apologeticness. Dilandau said nothing, but continued to stare at Jajuka.
"So I am..." He spat darkly.
"Who says they know me? What?" Gabrielle spoke up. Jajuka's eyes flicked from Dilandau to Gabrielle.
"Can we talk about that in the morning? Master Dilandau does not wish me here." Jajuka said simply. "Yeah. Sounds good." She said. Jajuka bowed and turned to leave.
"Sorry once again, Master Dilandau." Jajuka said again, and then he left, none too slowly.
"Dilandau?" She implored him once Jajuka had gone.
"Yes?" He replied.
"Are you stressed about something?" She asked. He looked at her, and then sat down beside her.
"... Not really, no." He said in a flat voice that belied his hidden secrets.
"Are you sure?" She asked, looking into his eyes.
"No," He answered almost immediately, with a heavy sigh.
"... Do you want to talk about it?" She asked warmly. He found her so difficult to resist.
"No... Yes... I don't know." He said, shifting his gaze.
"It's alright," She said understandingly, with a reassuring smile, and he had the incredible urge to just break down to her. "I had better get some sleep." She said, still sitting next to him.
"Me too," He said, and he didn't move an inch. She smiled.
"Should I take it you're staying here?" She asked him.
Silence reigned. She smiled.
"Yes, you can stay if you like." She said. "I'm going to draw for a while, so I hope you don't mind the light." She said softly.
"No, I don't mind. I'll watch you," He suggested.
"Better yet, you can be my model." She said with a smile, and she picked up the pencil and sketchbook. Hell, not that I haven't drawn you a million times already. She thought in her head.
He watched her open the book and start flipping the pages rapidly, looking for the next blank one. "Let me see?" He asked, more of a command than a question, peering up to look across at the drawings. "Well... " She sighed. "I guess... " She shut the book and passed it to him.
They were all in pencil, shaded and drawn so well they could have been photographs. There were scenery pictures, such as a Fanelian landscape and Zaibach, at a view from outside. There were sketches of animals, like birds, dragons, a deer, a few sketches of mechas. He was impressed by the attention to detail in drawing his Oreides. It was done correctly down to every last edge of metal, and every exposed wire was drawn in. He blinked at the skill she had, and then turned the page.
There was a sketch of Gatti. His full body, and several heads at different angles with different expressions. He looked exactly as he did in life. He flipped the page, and found another model sketch page, this time of Guimel. He looked at the studies she had done of how to draw his curly hair. He smirked at the title of the sketch. "Sheep Boy" written in Hiragana. He flipped the page and found a picture of Dalet standing, looking in a mirror. Migel was next, Chesta, and several sketches of Jajuka. He saw how she tried to perfect drawing Jajuka's long face, and the way the fur was on his body. He flipped the page again, and he found himself staring directly into a pencilized version of his own eyes.
She had done his face very well. He looked over the sketch. Everything was done well. His scar was even drawn in, perfectly identical to the one that actually graced the left side of his face. He turned the page, and saw several pictures of himself with different expressions, the next page was himself full body, and the next was a picture of Dilandau inside the Oreides with the cockpit open.
She mumbled something in her disappointment at not finding the right eraser, and then came back and sat on the bed. She looked a little embarassed when she saw Dilandau looking at the drawings of himself.
"I wish to draw you with your wings," She said.
"Alright," He replied. She looked to the side shyly.
"I was kind of wanting to draw you with your wings... Without your shirt." She muttered, a small guilty blush appearing on her face.
"Alright," He repeated. He passed her the sketchbook back. She withdrew the pencil from the rings on the spine of the book.
Dilandau undid the clasp on his shirt, and he took it off, placing it neatly beside him. He sat on the bed, cross-legged, his elbows resting on his knees and supporting his head. He spread his wings, keeping the top joint folded so that the primary feathers were touching the bedspread. She loved the pose, and began to draw him.