Gold decorates the chamber as if it were the sun. But this isn't anything bright or beautiful. The sight before him only brings more sadness and despair.
This man, clad in stunning gold armor who kneels before the bed with scarlet sheets, is not in this room for sleep or rest. He can't possibly get sleep from the second he saw the one in the bed.
His trembling hand clutching that of the figure laid on the bed. He holds the pale hand, probably wishing for the body to rise and flash the smile that would brighten anyone's bad day. The man looks up as if the one before him would wake up from the nightmare he lives now. Nothing moves.
It took everything in him to hold back the tears, but they just fall down his cheeks for the first time in ages. The familiar feeling of his hot cheeks and watered eyes returns as he buries his head into the silky green hair of the man laid down.
The long green hair spread across the sheets and now dries the tears of the king. Even as he lies dead, he still comforts his king and good friend.
"Enkidu," the golden warrior whispers the name of his only companion. He never thought he would express his name out of sorrow.
No one has ever seen him this vulnerable. Including himself.
My eyes shoot open to find the white of the ceiling. The fan spinning at a slow rate, allowing the room to cool down a little bit. I breathe heavily from that dream. Or was it a nightmare?
I know exactly who that was bawling, and I never thought I would see him like that. Perhaps I am one of the few to see him in that state. It honestly twists my chest just thinking about it.
"I see you have awaken. You have been in slumber for two whole days."
I've been out for two days? Whoa.
My eyes look to the left to find my Servant's back to me, looking outside the window while resting his hands on the windowsill. His golden hair down instead of spiked up, like in battle. He wears gray pants and no shirt. Instead, bandages cover most of his abdomen and wrap around his chest. His muscles completely visible to me, along with some blood leaking out of his right side.
"Gilgamesh! You're hurt, let me heal-!" I attempt to get up but instantly fall back down, feeling the throbbing pain in my torso and right arm. I only turn my head in his direction and take deep breaths. What happened to us?
"These wounds are nothing compared to the marks I left on that mongrel," he plainly states and lets out a deep sigh. "Lancer knows not to bother finding you anymore." Wait a minute.
"Lancer?" I ask, confused. Just speaking makes me feel ill in my stomach.
"I assume you have forgotten about that night." he says.
"It's hard to remember, but I think I recall you and Lancer fighting and I running off somewhere." I look back at the ceiling, recollecting the events of two nights ago. Although it's difficult to remember everything.
"The castle," he reminds me. "You wanted to discover the headquarters and we ran into Lancer. You then left on your own with a dagger from my vault for defense. After an hour or so, I found you passed out on the ground in your own blood."
I remember it all now, except for him saving me. But before that, I recall everything perfectly. I found out about the ones fighting in the fortress, and in that process, I was caught by Caster's crazy Master, resulting in him torturing me. The thought alone sends shivers down my spine from the memory. And following that, I was healed. I was healed... by a woman. That woman - that Einzbern homunculus - can't be.
"My sister..." I whisper, my red eyes widen and water from the thought.
"What?" Gilgamesh faces his whole body towards me, holding his side.
"Nothing," I brush it off. Or at least I try to. I may speak to him about it later when I am not as tired or hurt. "Just a thought."
"Hmph, no matter." he ignores it as well, although I sense that there is still some curiosity behind his words.
I sigh and close my eyes. As much as it hurts, I have to get up to heal myself and Archer. Neither of us are at our original state. I push myself to get up, but immediately fall back. Gilgamesh sees my struggle and simply chuckles.
"I found some old bandages and gauzes to tend to our wounds," he assures me.
I manage to sit up, the sheets covering my torso fall. I look down and find my abdomen with the gauze wrapped around like he said. However, I also find no shirt on me. At the realization that am in my bra and he is staring at me, I scream and take the blanket to cover my chest.
"Gilgamesh! What are you thinking!" I yell at him. To my surprise, he doesn't go laughing his head off like usual. His expression remains the same, if anything, concerned.
"Naomi, take a look at your right arm," he informs me and steps closer with a wince of pain. I give him a confused expression as he returns a serious one. Following what he told me, I hold out my right arm for both of us to see.
"What the-?!"
Markings cover my whole right arm, stopping right before the Command Seals. The markings go from my neck down to my wrist. The faint red color showing and I have no words as to what this could possibly be. So he removed my top to observe these. I trace my fingers over the shapes and feel the small sting in my arm. I pull my hand back and suck in a breath.
"What," I whisper slowly, "are these?"
My eyes look into my Servant's, hoping for an answer or clue. He leans against the wall with a grunt of pain and stares at the red painted over my arm. His brows furrow and he bites his bottom lip in in thought. Does he know what these are?
He gets up slowly and sits on the edge of the bed. His hand reaches for my wrist and I hold it up for him. Examining my arm closely, he runs his slightly callused fingers up my arm, giving a faint burn and goosebumps at the same time.
"I think I have seen these before," he murmurs, eyes still studying the crimson and fingers tracing the patterns. I widen my eyes and stare at him. His face holding almost no emotion, apart from the little confusion.
"I can't remember where, but I definitely see these markings in my faded memory." He sighs and removed his hands.
"Faded memory? You don't know about your past? But you know your name." I look back at my arm then into his eyes. He chuckles under his breath.
"I mean they probably appeared and I simply don't remember," he laughs.
"Oh," I laugh as well, a little uncomfortable. "But what if this is something bad, like a curse?" My words are rushed.
"It may be difficult to remember them, but I promise you it won't be the cause of your demise or any illness," he assures me.
"How do you-" I begin, but the look in his eyes shows he is growing impatient with my worries "Okay."
He nods and lies himself softly on the bed, resting his head on the pillow with his hands brushed through his messy golden locks behind his head while closing his eyes.
So relaxed and settled. I smile at how he finally looks at ease. His chest rises and falls, and his lips part open. Is he sleeping? This may be the first time he can acquire rest in this war, yet. His muscles lessen from their tension and simply slacken. I find my self staring at his torso covered in bandages.
Even under the white, his strong abdomen rises and falls with every hot, heavy breath. My eyes can't leave his great physique. I almost run my hands down him, forgetting any dignity in me. Large biceps I haven't noticed. His whole body is literally made of muscle, and I won't complain.
Then it hits me, he is wounded and hasn't been treated well in who knows how long. I wipe my stupid thoughts from my mind and put my hands over his belly and chest without touching him. The blue light appears in my palms and travels to all the cuts and gashes bared on him. It hurts me, as I am wounded just as much as him, to use magic.
His ruby eyes open in slits and look into mine. Once finished healing him, he unwraps the red stained gauze, showing more skin. "Not even a scar left," he says. "Impressive, Naomi."
"That would normally be nothing, but it took more effort." I smile and shrug. Rubbing my stomach from the wound, I sigh. Following my hand, his eyes look at my bandages. I do the same, furrowing my brows. "I should heal that, huh?" I try to laugh.
Mana flows through me and my lower abdomen lights up in blue. I try my best to hold back my scream, but it just comes out. Once the ether stops flowing, there is no more pain in my back. The sting still in my right arm.
Getting up, I feel myself more free to move once again. I grab a black tank top and pull it over my torso. I see that he has changed me out of my jeans from that night and into my loose pajama pants, wondering how that went while I was unconscious. I tie my hair into a high ponytail, not bothering to brush the tangles of my curls.
Without forgetting, I rip off my bandages under the top and fall back on the bed next to Gilgamesh, bringing the sheets up to my neck. His eyes are definitely on me, I can feel them.
"This war is shit," I say plainly. "I hate it for what it does to us people and for what it does to Heroic Spirits. A completely sinful ritual."
"Hmm. The world is only so cruel," he agrees. He doesn't know why I'm saying this.
"Gilgamesh." I look into his eyes, realizing our noses are barely two inches apart. "If you had no idea where you came from, then suddenly receive a huge clue out of nowhere, would you believe whoever or whatever gave it to you?"
Water fills my eyes, almost falling into tears. He probably gets what I mean.
"It depends on the person, of course," he replies. I look up at the spinning fan, thinking about the female albino that saved me from torment.
Silence fills the air until he says, "You discovered something about your past, haven't you?"
The tears flow down, and I look at the opposite side from him, facing away to hide my feebleness.
"Yeah," I almost sob. "My bloodline is of the Einzberns." I bring my hands to my face and bawl. Why am I crying? I went my whole life thinking I had no family and almost died at a young age when that couldn't have been the case, that's why.
"Turn around," he tells me. I oblige and face him again. His hand reaches up and wipes my face from tears. I take deep breaths.
"I might have a sister I never met." I take in a deep breath. "I might be fighting against her in this war."
"How did you discover this?" He asks, pushing my hair behind my ears.
I tell him the whole story after my encounter with Caster's crazy Master. Never stopping to wipe the water from my face, which is very comforting. He hums as I speak, thinking internally about this.
"The solution is obvious," he says after I finish.
"Not to me," I state, a little bit of attitude. He notices and gives me the 'Do you want my advice or not? Because not many people can get it,' glare. "I'm sorry, what would it be?"
He snickers and says, "Let her speak with you about this. Her family is the one at fault here. If you confront her, you will seem desperate for information and will give them the satisfaction."
"But I want to know about this," I sigh. He holds a finger against my parted lips, and I raise an eyebrow.
"I understand, and you have the right, but if she truly cares about the situation, I'm sure we will come across her and she will have an explanation. If not, then the mongrel will be defeated anyway." I nod, brushing off the fact that he called her a lowlife and how he said she would be defeated.
Taking his finger from my mouth, he turns on his back and resumes his sleeping. Little snores pass through his teeth. His chest slowly rising and falling from his deep breathing. For a second, his sleeping figure reminds me of my dream.
"Enkidu," he said, sobbing while holding his hand. I know some things about his legend, and that name picks at my memory. In his life, his one and only true friend was the man laid down pale and lifeless who made the demigod see life.
Unless he is fine with speaking about it, I won't mention the dream to Gilgamesh. I'm certain he wouldn't want to be reminded of the tragic death of his most loved friend. I know I wouldn't, and definitely don't want to be.
Forgetting my devastated thoughts, I glance at the clock. It's seven in the afternoon. What once was a blue sky is now mixed with pink and fuzzy clouds, with the sun disappearing in the horizon.
No one dares to go walking in the streets of Fuyuki at night. It is a different place, and not just because of the people. Especially around this time of a secret war unknown to most of the population. Whenever I had closing hours for my job, I would avoid walking, no matter how close it is to my house.
I remember I have to take a shower, and so I turn on my heel with a new pair of pajama pants heading to the bathroom. As I set my pants and towel down, I turn on the sink faucet and splash myself with cool water. Sighing, I place my hands on the sides of the sink facing my head down. I shake my wet face and look up in the mirror. I see it all.
The tattoos over my arm almost reach my face. They bend at certain angles frequently, starting and ending with sharp points. Placing my hand on it burns, causing me to pull back immediately. Where could Gilgamesh have seen these?
"It doesn't look bad on you." There he is.
"I would thank you if I knew what these were," I respond, not looking at him most likely leaning against the door frame.
Instead, I look in the mirror at the silver haired girl with bangs covering her left eye and the crimson tattoo across her arm. She was cursed into this world only to die by what she feared the most. How can one person have a fate where she is born alone with a time bomb ticking away painfully until it reaches zero, indicating her eternal rest?
"You need to relax yourself," he interrupts my thoughts.
"Why do you think I'm heading in the shower?" I face away from the doomed girl and look at the blonde man, guaranteed to emerge victorious from this massacre.
"All of this unnecessary stress clouds your mind, and it annoys me to see my Master allow herself to get shrunk by everyone else's troubles," he selfishly points out. As it indeed sounded self-centered, he is right.
He approaches me, staying close to me as I take a step back. "Face the mirror," he instructs. I give him a puzzled expression. "It would be easier if you do it rather than I forcing you." After a short pause, I nod and follow him.
I feel him lift up the back of my shirt slightly, causing me to look at him angered in the reflection. "I'm simply looking at the wound," he says. I ease up and take a deep breath. "A scar remains, but it is almost good as new. However, the scar might sting sometimes, and no healing could prevent that."
Gilgamesh's fingers softly trace around the scar of my wound. His touch chills me and gives me goosebumps. It's so relaxing. His palms move to my shoulders, pressing a little hard but massaging them greatly. The feeling is amazing. I really am relieved. He moves them down, working his magic and loosening my tense muscles. I observe in the mirror, watching him rub my back. When he finishes, my head falls back on his bare chest and I lean against him. We stare into each others ruby eyes and I slightly flush. Only now I realize how short I am compared to him.
"Thank you," I say, and mean it. My head arches back to stare in his eyes more.
"I would normally be the one to receive a body rub." He smirks and takes his fingers between my snow-white bangs, brushing them behind my ear. I smile and roll my eyes.
He is so comforting, despite his attitude sometimes. Even then, he makes me smile, and now is one of those times. In this small period I've known him, we have been getting closer with laughter and cheer. I notice his smirk disappearing and he rests his nose on my forehead, eyes gazing into mine. For a second, his thin pupils widen a little.
"Your eyes shine brighter than I remembered."
His words make my heart skip a beat, and my cheeks heat up. I bring my palms to his cheeks, close my eyes and crash his lips onto mine.
He is surprised by my reaction, as am I. He kisses back passionately, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into him. My hands go to his neck as his tongue goes along my upper lip, demanding for entrance. I grant him access without a thought.
To further ignite the fire between us, I graze my teeth across his bottom lip. He forces more affectionately, having him explore my mouth. My fingers go through his soft hair, slightly tugging at the roots.
We pull away to take a breath, but he doesn't stop there. I pant as he takes his fingers and trace them down my spine. I look down at the mirror, finding the same girl shining a little brighter.
"This state your in is unimaginable," he whispers in my ear behind me, followed by a chuckle. His lips brush my earlobe and his breath is hot against my skin, trying to tease me as I heat up. He looks into my eyes in our reflection with his mouth taking my lobe between his teeth.
I exhale loudly as his other hand moves to my waist, lifting my shirt for the feeling of my skin. He releases my ear and lets his breath travel to the back of my neck, brushing his lips over it and teasing more.
"..." I have no words while his hand moves down my waist, bringing my shirt up my stomach hungry for skin.
For someone who has slept with many women, he is attracted to a homunculus. I honestly find it odd as someone like him would usually see me as useless meat. Or is he doing this for himself? My thoughts catch up to me and I finally ask myself what I have done.
"I-I am going to shower-" I am cut off by the sudden sucking on my neck.
My mouth falls open and several gasps escape. His sucking followed by nibbling, always in the same spot. This time is much rougher than the last. His hand tugging lightly at my ponytail.
"This isn't... right." I say, but I can't pull away. What we are doing is so wrong, and yet I can't bring myself to pull away from him.
A moan that I have been trying to hold back falls out, and I regret it as I feel his smile on my skin. Teeth biting down on my flesh, nipping at the same spot under my ear. My behind moves against him, and his hands pull my hips closer to him with a groan accidentally leaving his lips against my neck.
"Your body is saying otherwise," he seductively whispers in the spot, smirking against the skin. I take my hand back from his hair and he pulls his lips away.
I take deep breaths with a trickle of sweat beaming on my forehead. Once slowing down my breathing to a somewhat normal rate, I see just how relaxed and relieved the girl is. Her eyes glow just like he said.
"You should take that shower, I won't intrude." He grins and leaves the bathroom with a small pinch on my rear that causes me to yelp and blush. "That mark indicates that you are mine," I think I hear him say when he closes the door.
In the mirror, I find the bright red blemish where he was nibbling at. I run my fingers over it, receiving a small, wet sting. I am the reason this happened, he isn't at fault here. That moment was probably a little embarrassing as I wasn't thinking. I've been kissed by many guys, I will admit. But he made me feel like I've never been kissed before. Pressing my fingertips to my lips, feeling the absence of his own, I ask myself many questions. Do I regret it and would I take it back?
"No," the girl in the mirror answers with a small smile.
A/N
I'm back! So... What did you guys think, huh?
Please comment and vote, feedback is appreciated!