Aurora's POV

"Home" isn't exactly what I should call the Aquarius Temple but it's sort of what it was and that afternoon after two months I was back. That place is enormous, cold and somewhat lonely- even for someone who grew up in Siberia. I never stayed inside for long.

But I'm exhausted- not for fighting some douches that the so-called Pope probably thought was "easy enough to be a bore for gold saint who have more important issues to worry about"; I normally ended this job first so I could explore anywhere else and take some time for myself. Flights are tiring and I need some rest.

I checked the library, big and almost scary. People said that a previous Aquarius saint loved to read and everything here is mostly his collection. There's also a big painting of him above our old writing desk that stands next to the wall

-Why this must be so…dark? – I complained, I rarely went there, only for studying. –Camus?

Well, he is definitely not here.- I sighed. He used to spend most of his free time reading while I could be easily found in my room playing some records. Maybe it's an Aquarius Saints trait…?

I opened the heavy curtains to get some decent clarity and threw my bag on the floor. Now that's better!

I sat on the chair, resting my feet on the table and put my hands behind my head. "He would kill me if he saw this". I stared at the painting hanging on the wall and squinted my eyes to read the name on the inscription below: Dégel – Aquarius Gold Saint, 1746. He was pretty much similar to Camus, except that he wore glasses. His hair was also darker and his expressions looked somewhat…lighter.

Still, pretty similar. And pretty.

I sighed- You two are so similar . I wonder if you were actually like him. Focused, determined, col-

I stopped before I finished the sentence, slightly guilty. - He isn't cold, right? Cold is someone who doesn't care about you, but I knew he did. A little distant would be more appropriate.

I opened a History of Greece book and a Polaroid photo felt from one of the pages. I picked; it was one of a few photos we had together: me and Camus in France, two years ago. Milo took it. We had a mission in the countryside of France, Milo and mine's first mission abroad, so we were quite excited while Camus constantly reminded us to calm down and "don't act like a tourist".

-Funny, this day… I begged him to buy me some of those "colorful cute sweets" because my French was terrible and he said no because he didn't want to look like an idiot. Next morning I found a box full of them beside me with a note written "It's called Macarons, by the way. I bet you will like"

I caught myself smiling.- Yeah, he isn't cold at all.

He is difficult to read when there's people around. It's a lot easier when we are alone.

Which made me remember that kiss before I left, two months ago.-We were drunk, don't judge me. – I said, talking to the painting again. What the hell is my problem…?- He probably doesn't even remember that

But he certainly answered that- I thought and bit my lip.

I was probably daydreaming for a while because I haven't noticed a shadow back on the door, nor did I feel any different cosmo. The only person who could have such cool cosmo is…

-Fuck!- I jumped out of the chair, almost falling from it- You bloody scared me!

Camus was staring at me from the door, his eyes fitting me. Was that a smirk?

-How long have you been standing there?

-Long enough to get worried about living with someone who talks to paintings.- he said bluntly and I cringed a little on the chair, but he came closer, fitting me.

-So- I avoided staring at his eyes, damn those amazing blue eyes – Will you kick me out of here or pretend this awkward situation never happened?

He leaned and put his hand on the wall, making impossible for me to run away or either make eye-contact, touched my face with the free hand, running his finger through my lips- Neither- he said with smooth voice. My heart accelerated as his face got closer and closer and his soft cold lips finally kissed mine.

Like an attack, everything was incredibly fast but the moment triplicates its time by observation of our senses. Touch, movement, prediction, feeling. Everything is recorded. Maybe a kiss is a kind of attack.

Then I found myself observing everything. It's far from being my first kiss and it's not even our first kiss but probably the first that got me by completely. I grabbed his hair, desperately pulling him closer as I felt him grabbing my waist under my shirt, not letting me go anywhere. Not that I wanted…

I broke the kiss, panting, just to sit on the table and pulled him close to me again and wrapped my legs around his hips. He leaned me on the table, getting above and fitted me for a while. I could feel his heart racing as much as mine while I grabbed his shirt, basically begging him to take it off without even saying a word. He took it off and quickly helped me to get rid of mine, studying my body with his eyes before starting to kiss my neck

-Je ne pouvais pas arrêter de penser à vous, je vous manqué. Mon Dieu tu es si belle!- He whispered and I quickly looked for his lips again.

And suddenly none of our duties mattered; we weren't Athena saints or soldiers, we weren't protecting the Earth or fighting for justice. We were just two young people who surrendered to something stronger than us.

That afternoon I understood one of Camus's best features: he keeps his passions locked under his cool mask, inside his fiery heart.

I was barely awake when Camus frightened me to death, once again, letting out an loud "Merde!" when I turned to face him, only on his boxers, covering his face with his hand, incredulous.

I covered myself with a blanket. – I wasn't expecting you to be the guy who brings me breakfast on the bed but screaming is ridiculous, you've seen me waking up before.- I said, annoyed.

I saw confusion on his eyes – It's not that. Aurora, look at the window.

I looked at the far-from-being-small bedroom window and then I understood.

-Tell me you opened these curtains before I wake up, s'il te plait.

I bit my lip – I didn't.

-Well, then Shura must've had a very unpleasant vision from his living room.

Damn

Hope you enjoyed this one, though I'm not used to describe romantic scenes at all, it was quite challenging but somehow I liked :P

PS: As you can figure out, my French abilities belongs to Google Translator sooooooo, sorry if there's bizarre mistakes but what I meant in that scene was "I couldn't stop thinking about you, I missed you. My God, you're so beautiful!" (which sounds way better in french. Everything sound better in French)

xx