Stolen Hearts Chapter Seven
Bulma had decided for him to just take her home to the palace, she didn't think she could face her grandmother like this, and she did not want to give up this strange sense of freedom she felt. Nothing is more wonderful then the art of being free, but nothing is harder to learn how to use then freedom.
The first part of their journey was spent in angry silence until Bulma, who was unable to take in any more at that moment, fell asleep. She sighed and let her head fall back against his chest in exhaustion and soon knew no more.
Vegeta found it hard to be angry at her when she was like that.
'Amazing how such a pain in the ass can look so peaceful asleep,' he thought to himself amazed at the alien gentleness he felt towards her despite her bitchiness. In a way that what he found endearing, for that was an emotion her knew how to handle well.
These new feelings were much harder to deal with.
It was not often Vegeta had contact with others, especially for so long, so this was a new strange land to him. She was soft and deliciously warm and pleasant to look at.
Bulma awoke some hours later on a soft bed of grass that permeated the air with a wonderful aroma of life. The leaves above her were not only green, but also silver and blue when the wind stirred them. She stretched languidly; smiling softly to herself as the dappled light came sneaking through the canopy above her. It wasn't a suffocating canopy like that of the dark forest, but more of a protective one that put you at ease. It seemed more like she was waking into a dream rather that into reality as the faint but soothing sounds of meadowlarks and rushing water came to her ears. For the first time in a long while she felt the glow of nature.
As Bulma came around she slowly remembered the past events of the day with a groan as the pain made itself noticeable when she sat up to further examine her surroundings. At first she was dazzled by the sunlight dancing off the nearby water fall, and then he came into view.
What she saw was not the Elfish brute that had rescued her, but a god.
He was crouched beside the pond running the cool water over his shimmering satin skin. Tiny rivulets fanned down his chiseled back making it sparkle with life, flexing with every move. He turned slightly and she saw his eyes were closed, smoky lashes fluttering slightly against high cheekbones, full lips, sharp nose, deep auburn highlights of the black upswept hair revealed by the sun, all the elegant features that were utterly beautiful beyond compare.
'How could I have ever hated something so beautiful?' Bulma thought with a rush of strange emotion, 'How can such poison be so fair? Nothing that beautiful can be evil.'
She simply watched dazed from a moment feeling suddenly lightheaded, as if it the world were some play unfolding before her and the striking man who had rescued her was the dashing hero.
But no. He was no romantic hero, and this was certainly no amusing play, Bulma realized slowly coming to her senses. He looked lost...unhappy, a look that made her want to reach out and say she understood.
She saw now his face ravaged by all the passions of being an absolute villain- by cruelty, sorrow, age beyond his years, pride, selfishness, loneliness, and thoughts too strong for an individual alone. His mouth seemed permanently drawn downward in a kind of melancholy. He was remorseless, disillusioned, logical, predatory, fierce, pitiless.
But then he opened his eyes. She saw his great dark jewel eyes that were of a stricken deer, large, fearful, sensitive, and full of grieves. Perhaps he was just as lost as her, just as out of place and misunderstood. Was it possible that the understanding she had been craving all her life was found in this, the most unlikely of places?
It was when she realized he was indeed a real person that she began to wonder about him, about how he got to be this way. Her brows furrowed together remembering she hadn't even bothered to ask his name. She struggled with her preconceived notions of Elves and speculated if they were ill-placed. For this man at least.
"Uh… excuse me?" She muttered, not knowing what to say, and not entirely wanting to disturb the beautiful and peaceful scene before her. What if he did turn out to be just as evil as she initially assumed?
'Oh god I sound lame,' she thought as soon as it came out, "Um, you know my name but yours still remains a mystery, pray tell?
Those eyes turned to her and quickly covered up whatever was there before, becoming hard as ice again, and he answered simply, "My name is Vegeta."
After a quite moment he continued with slightly more humor in his smooth voice, "Have you decided to be civil now Princess?"
"…….Maybe," Bulma said slowly, for she really wasn't sure what she was intending to do, but she was weary of flighting. She let the water call her to it, beside him.
"Vegeta," she rolled the name over her tongue wondering what lay in those simple syllables, "That's not a very good killer's name."
"And what would be?" he questioned sounding, dare we say, slightly amused?
"I don't know..Thor or something. Something with more umph, not Vegeta."
"Thor? I supposed you thing Crog would be a more befitting name for me as well."
"I never said it was befitting for you, Vegeta fits you perfectly I think. It's just not a killer's name."
"I see, and you are the expert on this I suppose?"
"Of course, I am a princess, that's what princess' ought to be. A perfect expert."
"Well I'm sorry to burst your bubble but I am a killer, so your whole little theory is wrong," he said triumphantly.
"I'm never wrong," but Bulma could not say that with a straight face and she let out a stifled laugh, much to her embarrassment. Vegeta almost looked entertained by the sound, and Bulma again felt the strange desire to know this enigma of a man.
Why were there so many contradictions in his eyes? What made him laugh? What was his childhood like? His family? What made his cry? What did he look like when he was asleep? What was his favorite color? Does he have any hobbies other then villainy? Where does he like to be touched?
What would it be like to kiss him?
The illicitness and surprise of her last though brought a blush to her cheeks and she turned slightly away, but she could not tear her eyes away from him entirely. She was entrapped. All she knew was that she saw herself reflected in those eyes. This Elf seemed as if he could understand her like no one else could. How ironic.
Her brows knotted again at the flow of her forbidden thoughts that came forth relentlessly, whether she wanted them or not. Emotion: Agitation or disturbance of mind; vehement or excited mental state. It is also a powerful and irrational monster. And from what Bulma could gather, there seemed little doubt that she was, indeed... its slave.
'It must be madness form the pain and stress of this day,' she told herself warily, refusing to be foolish.
Vegeta regarded her skeptically. Her face was like an open book, he could easily see the mixture of emotions crossing it in a flurry.
"You think too much, your life is safe in my hands," his said, surprised by the amount of softness his voice held, assuming her distress came from a fear for her life.
If Bulma had been a sheet she would've been all crinkled and balled up, and his voice was like a hand smoothing it out flat and even. She noted that he mistook her agitation for concern about her safety, but she did not argue. Instead she changed the subject.
"I was taught with an emphasis on the sea since my element is Water.," Bulma said the first thing that came to her mind staring into the crystal water, " They said that the Merpeople are highly intelligent beings and the most peaceful of all, and that we should all strive to learn from their three essential wisdoms. 1. Have patience like the sea, 2. Move with the rhythm of life around you, and 3. Know that all things touch all others, as all life touches the sea."
He remained silent, and she continued, asking suddenly, "Do you ever feel like you were given the wrong life?"
"I guess what you get is what you get," he said after a moment with a raised eyebrow, "There's nothing you can do about it so why ponder it? There is nothing except the power which one pretends to seek. Love and emotion are tricks played on us by the forces of evolution. Pleasure is bait laid down by the same. There is only power. Power of the individual mind, but the mind's power is not enough. Power of the body decides everything in the end, only might is worthwhile."
He swam out deeper into the pool when he finished, not wanting to look into her eyes. He suddenly couldn't bear her thinking him a heartless beast.
"Well that was a depressing speech," Bulma responded with a frown, her eyes dutifully following him, "Do you really believe it? I suppose you are right. Happiness is just an illusion; it is never easy. Even smiling makes my face ache. But……still."
She paused letting her thought amble and absorb her surroundings, before she continued, "This place is so pure and crisp. Untouched and beautiful in all its innocent glory. I hope our presence here doesn't leave stark, ugly footprints in this untainted world. Freedom is mine. The earth is still and I feel the wind. I breathe again, and the sky clears, for the world is waking. I drink from the pool, and the taste is so clean. I think I might feel happy…"
Bulma stopped short with an embarrassed laugh as she put her face in her hands. It seemed so ludicrous but she felt… different. How sad is it when you don't even know what happy felt like?
Vegeta looked curiously at the princess who seemed to have slipped of into her own world. "Maybe you just need more opportunities to practice smiling because muscles are out of use."
"Yes perhaps," Bulma replied, slowly coming back to herself as her eyes fell on a patch of perfectly pink flowers by the waters edge. A familiar rage filled her.
"Why are they here?" she grumbled offended.
And again he said the most surprising thing as his eyes became locked with hers inextricably.
"I supposed they are here to remind us of a beauty we can never attain nor posses."
Bulma's breath shortened. "That is the most sensible answer I have ever heard," she said with an edge of wonder, anxious of the growing feeling in her stomach.
"You should come in. Have you ever bathed in a crisp forest pool that runs over multicolored stones glinting in the sun? The water will soothe your pain, trust me" he said as he came and pulled her in mesmerized by his voice and eyes. He whispered in her ear, "Don't try to hold it in, I won't tell anyone if you smile."
Insanity lay in that direction, Bulma could taste it on the back of her tongue, but she was unable and unwilling to refuse. And it frightened her in the most exciting way.
Just when you think you are sure, something happens that turns your whole world upside down, and maybe this time, it was a good thing. Her face was a desert when it came to smile, but here she was smiling and laughing in his arms like a carefree child. She should know better, she should hate him, but she decided to ignore logic, just for today. She needed to feel this however contrived and unnatural it was.
She was caught in his arms, the arms of this divinely beautiful creature and she had no desire to be set free. It was her will to be caught, perhaps mostly subconscious, but it is that part of us that is the truest. They jested and splashed through the waterfall with the surprisingly playful energy despite their normal temperaments of doom and gloom. It seemed like today when the world wasn't watching they were able to breathe freely and let go of their unsettling pasts that lurked behind them.
Bulma liked his mouth and imagined it kissing her everywhere. She liked his hands and imagined them touching her everywhere. She knew these thoughts were foolish and wrong to have toward such a beast, but she came to realize that she could not hold them back any more then she could stop the sun from rising. And she couldn't make herself believe he was a beast, not looking into those eyes. Yes there were whispers of warning in the back of her head about being crushed, but they were not enough to over come the music of his laugh, or the melody of his smile that made her feel a fire never felt before.
Vegeta had to remind himself that he was swimming in his secret forest pond, the clearest and purest of all, with the Faerie Princess. If he had told anyone, they would have said he was completely mad if he expected them to believe his claim. But he had no one to tell, so it mattered not.
As surreal as the beautiful woman was before him with the visage of an angel, he knew this was indeed real, too real for comfort. His strangely racing heart would not let him forget that. His very foundation was rattled to the core by these feelings that bombarded him out of nowhere. What the hell was he doing this for? Was he just a sucker for punishment? He vowed long ago he would never let anyone get close enough to hurt him, to break through his exterior defensives. There was not much he could do to deny the magnetic attraction he felt, even as much as he screamed to himself, this was not right!
Life could always surprise him with the strangest twists.
Bulma felt his eyes upon her again; intense and unabashed with an unearthly aura about them that drew her in. It would indeed have been frightening, if she had not been lost in incoherency, how she longed for his touch, her whole body awake and tingling for the feeling of his skin against hers.
She moved slowly, as if worried something was about to break and ruin this moment, this strangely perfect moment that she clung to. It would have to be enough to get her through hundreds of dark nights, so she had to make it count. She shifted in his arms and brought her legs to rest around his strong waist and her hands were wrapped around his neck.
He heart slammed against he chest like a hummingbird, 'What am I doing, What am I doing?!' she thought desperately, but her fears soon were realized to be unfounded.
He pulled her close, a free hand brushing away damp hair that stubbornly clung to the side of her face, impeding him from caressing the soft surface. He barley touched the surface of the skin, as if afraid that if he did he would ruin her somehow and she would dissipate, leaving him alone. Bulma shook her head in an effort to assist in deflecting her hair, scattering sliver gleams of light as she did so.
'What if this is my last chance to feel alright?' Bulma thought with an edge of desperation as she grasped his hand and pressed it firmly to the side of her face, looking unblinking and un-fearing into his eyes. She wanted to show him that she was there and she was a real hot-blooded creature that didn't want to be alone any more then he did.
In a quick unplanned movement she leaned up to ensnare him in a simple kiss.
It was as if she had stolen her kiss from those luscious impassive lips, and Bulma suddenly felt childish and fretted over what the repercussions of her actions would be.
When she finally could stand the silence no longer she impishly raised her eyes to his. His lips remained slightly parted and he looked awkward and surprised but extremely pleased.
Time stood still. They were all that existed. He held her hand and kissed her cheek, not a swift peck, but a slow lingering kiss that held visions of passion infinitely delicate. Not at all what she would've expected from a man like him.
Bulma felt instantly deliciously strange. She took several deep breaths and pressed her hands to her heart to keep it from pounding right through her chest. She wanted to be lying naked with him. She wanted to see what he really looked like, not some reflection in a pool whose surface had just been disturbed. This was against all they knew, but it was obvious what they needed to do right now was to forget themselves completely.
She captured his lips in a searing kiss of uncontrollable ardor that she actually did feel. For the first time she felt it, oh god she felt it! The delightful burning touch of lo...he had to have felt it too the way he was reciprocating her affections with just as much if not more intensity.
All worries previously harbored slipped away into obscurity as they could think of nothing else then the warm body pressed against theirs. They became lost in the strange new world of each other's arms, and it was electrifying. It was all they knew, and it had a wonderful taste of defiance.
Vegeta was beside himself as his lips moves furiously against hers. She made him feel like he wasn't just a heartless killer, he didn't want to be that façade he had made himself anymore. She made him want to be something he could never be.
He wasn't even a decent being, let alone something she deserved. But she smiled at him, a smile that said she understood. That as hard as it was to smile, she could feel free to do it in front of him. He knew it was too much to assume that he had made the ethereal beauty show her breathtaking smile. A smile that made him forget his troubles, and slip into a sedated content state, vulnerable and uncaring.
Vulnerable.
No.
He pulled away.
It was because of this that he had to try and keep himself as detached as possible. He had to. There was no other way. Daydreams were not real, not in his life.
Bulma blinked, confused and slightly angry that those delicious lips were taken away from her. He had pulled away and now wore a conflicted almost angry look, as if he had given in to something despised. It wrenched her insides. How could she care so much of what he thought so quickly? What was this new madness? She needed to get control of herself and quickly.
"No," he said, whether to himself or to her she could not tell.
"What?" Bulma said evenly with little emotion.
"We can't do this," he returned, just as devoid of emotion. It was if they had expended all their narrow hearts could muster in the previous act.
"Oh that's rich," Bulma said with a bitterness she could always depend on. No one had ever dared reject her before. She clumsily attempted to exit the pool, away from that fiend of hell, but the pain was hard to ignore.
"Wait," he called, emotion slowly sneaking back into his voice as he moved to help her. She angrily shoved him away.
"Don't touch me! I was a fool to agree to this whole scam in the first place, let the wolves come! I shall make it on my own or not at all. Thank you SIR!" There was no illusion of gratitude in the title.
"Bulma listen! I just, I just don't think I have it in me," he finished lamely, as if unsure of what he did in fact want. He had virtually no experience with this slew of new feelings and he didn't like the lack of control. Not one bit.
There was a war going on inside him. One side said to leave her and run as far away as you can, and the other side screamed to stay and never let her go. It was maddening!
Vegeta was very interested with the ground suddenly, not being able to look her in the eyes, as she stood in stony silence, indisposed to help him at all.
"I want it to be...more, and I don't think that is possible so it is better to stop it here isn't it? If it can't be what we want, we shouldn't pretend right?" his vague words came out in a muddle, but Bulma got the meaning clear enough, she was angry anyway so it made it easy to be harsh. She was angry at herself for being so weak, and she was angry at him for not being stronger.
"Yes, you are right. You could never have me. It is better this way."
Vegeta jerked as if physically trying to rid himself of something then said blankly, "Let's just forget it. We should be on our way again. You are hurt and I must get you to a healer. It's not much further now."
"By the gods I hope so," Bulma sighed under her breath as she allowed herself to be drawn back into the burly arms which were far more uncomfortable now.
So they pressed on with a passionate pace, wrecking the present because the future was bound to be a wreck.
AN: Thanks for reading, hope you are enjoying the angst!