1- here i am

George is fragile tonight.

Isabella has seen most sides of George: wakeful and witty; that shocked laugh when he finds out something new; those dark, beautiful eyes when he's thinking up a new seduction as he glances at Yukari. George likes to be in control, but his relationship with Yukari has brought many new experiences that challenged the way he thought. Isabella had seen his proud eyes when he announced the news of Paradise Kiss's first sale. It was the same feeling for the blue dress. She's even noticed the way his mouth lingers on a glass of wine, and when it curves into a smile at the rim. A pin in the mouth; a pen behind his ear; a hat tipped back; a tie unloosened. A teasing pinch to Arashi's behind just to hear the yowl of protestation. There are many faces; and it's a selfish wish of hers to see all of George.

George looks a lot more innocent and child-like when he's asleep, because there's no wall or gaudy mask to guard his feelings. Isabella knows that when George first succumbs to sleep, he leans on his right side, head on his shoulder. It's happened plenty of times when they'd exhausted themselves designing or sewing. That sleeping self of George's is almost always very still once those mercurial eyes close. He won't move an inch even at the touch of cold fingers on his stomach or when the growing latticework of frost on the window would otherwise wake a sane person.

But, she thinks, he's never been sane.

Before he'd fallen asleep, quieter than usual, George had taken the ship's white sleeping sheet in one hand and had thrown it across the room. He had said that the white mocked him, because he didn't have any dye with him for metamorphosis. He refused to sleep with it, saying he was warmer without the sheet.

So in a way, it was strange to find the young man curled up in a tight ball on his single bed. No doubt he was seeking warmth, as his right hand opened, reached out and closed insistently. George was not still at all. As Isabella sips the last remaining dregs of her tea; she imagines the lock of Yukari's night-dark hair that used to reside there, in the palm of George's hand. Isabella knows that she's frowning; a gloved hand traces the downward, sad curve on her face. She believes that Caroline won't be sleeping tonight either, for without the smell of familiar cologne, there was nothing to lull and distract her senses. Self-inflicted pain on both sides, she thinks as she puts her cup into the sink, dabbing the last drops off her lips with a lace handkerchief.

In this starched white, generic boat cabin that the two of them are sharing, Isabella can't help her sad smile. What she told George on the balcony of the cruise ship was true. George didn't understand a woman's feelings. It was clear that Yukari hadn't wanted to part from her first love; self-harming, bitter and somehow joyful though it was. But as always, stubbornness and miscommunication took their toll on these two.

Yes, George's choice to immigrate to another country was selfish. It doesn't surprise Isabella that George is selfish in his own way. Being the only child, the absence of his father and the regrets of his mother must have tempered the instinct in the younger George to fend for himself and himself alone. Even now, he has yet to learn that sometimes you need to consider others into future plans. That to stay with the one you love isn't a pitiful dream.

After all, Isabella thinks as she tucks her red kimono-styled dressing gown tighter around her slender waist, sliding into the single bed next to George, here I am.

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A/N: Hi all! First, thank you for reading! Storage 1013 is where I'm going to keep all my Paradise Kiss drabbles in the future. I've been meaning to write more ever since I received such positive words for Just Enough. Hopefully, you'll like what's coming up. But one thing I need to make clear. This isn't a multi-chaptered story, it's more fragmented scenes or images that I've played with. If anyone has any particular requests, or such, I'll entertain offers if anything sparks my interest. :D Thanks goes to Lilith.Seraphim for looking over my shoulder and pointing out where I've gone wonky. :3