Chapter 4: Safe

Disclaimer: I do not own Cantarella. Cantarella is the property of Yuu Higuri. Does anyone know if I have to put a disclaimer in every single chapter?

A/N: I'm pretty much not following the manga storyline anymore. Sorry. I will attempt to keep the characters reasonably in character… except, you know, for Cesare not being in love with Chiaro.

Chiaro! Chiaro woke at the sound of Cesare's voice in his mind and sat straight up in bed. It wasn't a nightmare. Cesare sounded awake. In some part of Chiaro's mind, he sensed a dark presence quite close. Oh no. He leapt out of bed, grabbing his sword, though what use his sword would be against the devil he had no idea. "Cesare?" he called softly through the house, wondering if he should shout and risk waking everyone up. Cesare wasn't in his room. Where was he? He followed the source of the darkness until he came to a side room, where Cesare, surrounded by demons, was standing near the fireplace with his head in his hands.

"Cesare?"

Cesare turned to him, eyes flickering between gold and obsidian, shining with desperation. "Chiaro…." He started toward him then stopped, looking confused. Chiaro dropped his sword, rushed forward, and hugged Cesare without even thinking.

…

Cesare gasped as Chiaro's light suddenly invaded his darkness, and grasped the back of his shirt desperately. He began to breathe hard, releasing tension he hadn't been aware of holding. At last he slowly relaxed, though he still held on to Chiaro. They couldn't torment him as long as Chiaro was here. Cesare closed his eyes. Safe. All was safe.

Only very slowly did it occur to him that it was past three in the morning and Chiaro ought to be asleep. "Thank you. Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked, slowly letting go but still holding on to Chiaro's arms.

"You needed me," Chiaro replied. His eyes were warm, gentle, and worried. "So I came."

"How did you know?"

"I heard you. In my mind…."

Cesare sighed and looked down. "Not again. I'm sorry for waking you."

"It's fine, I'm glad you did."

Cesare looked back up. He was? Why?

"Are you okay?"

"I don't know. They're bad tonight… I couldn't sleep. I thought maybe I could distract myself… but it didn't work."

"Distract yourself?"

Cesare let go of him entirely and walked over to the couch where he'd been sitting and picked up the French philosophy book he'd thrown down in frustration. "This," he said. "I was practicing my French."

"Aren't you fluent in French?"

"Writing it, yes. But not speaking it."

"Then what good will reading it do you?"

Cesare sat down, giving Chiaro a look. "I wasn't trying to be logical about it. I was trying to distract myself from the demons."

"Why didn't you just wake me up?"

"I did, apparently."

"I meant sooner."

Cesare sighed and looked away, his face warm. "I'm not going to go to you like a small child waking his parents after he has a nightmare. I do have a sense of pride, you know."

He heard Chiaro step closer and looked around. With a slightly teasing smile, Chiaro sat beside him and put an arm around him. "You are so stubborn," he said. "If you want me to keep away the demons, why do you keep walking away every time I touch you?"

Cesare didn't answer. He didn't know what to do. Escape. He looked away from Chiaro at the demons hanging back. Images flashed in his mind, as well as sounds, like the dark wings outside the window. Shuddering, he leaned against Chiaro's shoulder, covering his face with his hand. He was much more afraid of the demons, and his angel would protect him.

"There you go," Chiaro said softly. He moved Cesare's hand from his face and smoothed the hair back from his forehead, stroking it. Cesare closed his eyes. Safe. Chiaro was safe. But his heartbeat kicked up again when Chiaro suddenly leaned into the corner of the couch, pulling on him. Startled, Cesare sat up.

"What's wrong?" Chiaro asked, sitting back up.

Cesare said nothing, unsure what to reply. Chiaro wasn't in love with him. He'd already figured that out. So what was he doing?

"Here, let me hold you," Chiaro said putting his arm around Cesare again, and acting like what he was saying was no big deal. "It will keep them away."

Slowly, Cesare allowed Chiaro to draw him back against the corner of the couch and put his other arm around him.

"Relax," Chiaro said.

"But…." Why was Chiaro acting like this? Escape. He didn't want to show weakness by admitting how much he wanted this. Not to Chiaro or anyone.

"Cesare, relax," Chiaro insisted. "It's okay."

Cesare breathed deeply and let it out slowly. It was okay. It was okay. He didn't need to escape, because Chiaro was safe. He slowly relaxed and closed his eyes. Why had he been so difficult? This was… wonderful. Like being wrapped in a warm blanket woven from light. It was like when Vanozza had held him as a child, reading to him. Cesare put out a hand to touch Chiaro's arm.

"You like this?"

"Yes," Cesare whispered, his voice a little more fervent than he'd meant it to be. I love you. Please don't let go.

"Good. I thought you would."

If Chiaro stayed long enough, maybe he could even sleep a little. The thought of sleeping in Chiaro's peaceful embrace was very, very nice. But it wasn't something his pride would let him ask for, even with Chiaro sitting here and holding him. Chiaro would probably think he was strange. Well, stranger than being possessed by demons already made him.

"Why don't you go to sleep?" Chiaro asked. "You can probably sleep easier if they're not bothering you, right?"

Cesare opened his eyes. Had Chiaro somehow learned how to read his mind? He closed them again. So tempting. "No," he said, smiling a little. "You'd be stiff in the morning."

"I don't care."

Cesare shook his head, wondering why his voice and his body seemed directly opposed to everything he wanted, and why Chiaro always wanted him to sleep.

"Well, at least let me stay a while," Chiaro said. "Give you a break."

"All right."

"My mother was French," Chiaro said in French, taking Cesare by surprise. He continued, still speaking the language at a moderate pace. "I learned to speak French from her. I still remember it well. Shall I help you?"

Cesare considered, still closing his eyes. Practicing French with Chiaro meant Chiaro would stay. But Chiaro should probably also go to bed. Strange how loving someone suddenly made you worry about them. "Don't you need to sleep?" he asked.

"No," he said, then switched to French. "I will not be able to sleep if I'm worried about you."

"Then I will practice with you," Cesare said in broken French. "Where was your mother from?"

"Paris. She married my father a very long time ago."

"Is she still alive?"

"No, she died when I was six."

Cesare frowned. Why had it only now occurred to him that Chiaro had lost the last of his family at the age of seventeen? "I'm sorry," he said, the words coming much easier to him in French than they ever had in Italian.

"It's all right. I don't really remember her very well."

"But that means… you have no family."

"Of course I do," Chiaro said, his voice smiling. "I have you."

Cesare felt his face grow warm. He didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry," Chiaro said, still speaking French. "Is that bad?"

"No," Cesare replied. "It's good. How is my pronunciation?"

"I can hear that you are not French," Chiaro said, smiling and still speaking French. "But I do not think many Frenchmen would be offended by your pronunciation. I think you are better than you think." He rubbed Cesare's back. "You really should sleep."

"I don't want to," Cesare replied, beginning to be exhausted with this French conversation. "I want you… to keep holding me." He opened his eyes. Had he really just said that? Did the French language somehow loosen his tongue?

"All right," Chiaro said, hugging him a little tighter. He switched to Italian. "You know, every time I hug you, you hold on like you want me to hold you, and then you pull away. I can never figure out what I'm supposed to do."

Cesare didn't reply. What was he supposed to say? He loved being held, but he hated feeling vulnerable. Even now, sitting here and leaning into Chiaro's arms was wonderful but frightening. He was completely defenseless, no guard at all, like he had been just before Marrone… but he had nothing to worry about. Chiaro was not Marrone. And besides, he'd dropped his sword on the other side of the room. And Chiaro was probably safe, unless he decided that he had to kill Cesare to save him. Which he did, eventually. Cesare had no delusions about that. Any efforts on Chiaro's part or his own only postponed the inevitable. But hopefully the inevitable could be postponed for quite a long time. There would be no Chiaro in hell. And he was fairly certain he wouldn't be able to love in hell either.

Several minutes passed, and at last Chiaro said again, "Really, Cesare, you should sleep. You'll be exhausted in the morning, and I'll end up falling asleep here."

Cesare frowned. "But…." He tried to think of some excuse for why Chiaro should stay.

"Come on," Chiaro said, getting to his feet and taking Cesare with him. Cesare moaned a little. "Don't whine. I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."

Cesare straightened, irritated that his weakness was showing through this much. "I'm not a child. You know, you're only two years older than me." He walked away from Chiaro, trying to swat away the demons that began to circle around him as soon as he was away from Chiaro's light. He went to his bedroom and lay down, hiding his face in the pillow so he didn't have to see them. Presently he felt a hand on his head, stroking his hair, and the demons faded into the light. He didn't say anything as Chiaro began to rub his back, but he felt himself relax.

…..

Chiaro felt his friend relax under his hand. Why had Cesare gotten angry all of a sudden? Only a few moments earlier, he'd been practically snuggling with him. Chiaro had seen the evil spirits descend on his master only seconds after he walked away. They were getting worse lately, and Chiaro had figured out when Cesare had destroyed his room and ran to cling to him that Cesare now needed him to be a bit more forefront about keeping the demons away. But for whatever reason, Cesare kept pulling away, like he was afraid of something. And then the demons would come back, probably mocking him all the more. Chiaro never knew whether to chase him or not, and he hated seeing the cloud descend on his master. Even now, he could see them just holding back. He glared at them, feeling a sudden wave of anger. Bastards. You can't have him! I won't let you!

"Chiaro?" Cesare murmured.

"Hmm?"

"You're angry."

"Yeah, because they won't leave you alone."

Cesare looked at him quizzically. "Of course not. They're part of me."

Chiaro glared at the demons then instinctively slipped into the bed beside Cesare and started to pull him close. He felt Cesare stiffen in surprise and pull away, sitting up. "What are you doing?" Cesare asked, sounding alarmed.

Chiaro paused, suddenly remembering that since Cesare was actually awake this time, he might feel awkward about Chiaro sleeping so close to him. "Oh… would you rather I not? I was just thinking it might help you sleep if I kept them away for you. And I won't get stiff this way…."

…

Cesare stared at Chiaro. The thought that Chiaro wanted anything more than to hold him while he slept barely crossed his mind. But that was enough to shock him. Was Chiaro really offering to wrap him in that blanket of light for the entire night? But… this required Cesare to have his guard down for the entire night. He tried to think. Why was Chiaro always trying to get him to go to sleep with his guard down? Wasn't that a little strange?

"Um… I won't if you don't want me to," Chiaro said, looking embarrassed. "I didn't mean anything weird by it, you know."

Cesare smiled just a little, Chiaro's embarrassment putting him a little more at ease. But still… he looked at Chiaro's sword, which was on the bedside table, sheathed. His sword had been on the other side of the room before, when they were on the couch, but now… oh, this was ridiculous. Why was he always so afraid now that Chiaro would kill him or betray him? Chiaro had given him no reason to think he would. Was it just because he couldn't imagine Chiaro being so kind to him without some sort of sinister motive?

"Hey… um… I'm sorry…." Chiaro started to get up, but Cesare caught his wrist, so he stopped. "Does that mean you want me to stay?" Cesare didn't reply. "Cesare, are you okay?" He looked so worried and confused. A little like Vanozza, actually, with that light that always seemed to be reaching for him, welcoming him. Had Vanozza loved him? Did Chiaro love him? Perhaps Chiaro ought to be categorized with Vanozza rather than Marrone. As someone who could maybe, possibly love him, in spite of everything. Someone with whom Cesare could surrender control, and relax, and rest.

"Why are you staring at me?" Chiaro asked, looking like he had no idea what to do. "Do you want me to stay or not? I mean… I'm not trying to seduce you or anything."

The words took a second to register. When they did, Cesare blinked a few times, then suddenly started laughing. He laughed hysterically until he was gasping for breath and his stomach hurt. At last he managed to catch his breath, but he only started laughing again. "Seduce me?" he asked, almost choking with laughter. "You? That's the last thing I'd ever worry about." He collapsed into laughter again.

"Cesare, you're really starting to concern me. I think you're overtired."

Cesare took deep breaths so he could stop. "Yes," he said, still laughing a little. "You're probably right." Was that why Chiaro was always trying to make him sleep? Because he was always exhausted? He covered his face with his hand, and a moment later felt Chiaro's hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Chiaro asked gently. He seemed to be asking that a lot lately.

Cesare looked up, smiling weakly. "Of course… my seductive little assassin." He slid his arms up around Chiaro's neck and pulled him close, breathing in his light. He had nothing to fear from his angel, even if he was rather an idiot. "Stay," he said. "I want to sleep with you."

"Okay…." Chiaro started to lie down. "Just like… me holding you, right?"

Cesare laughed again, leaning into Chiaro. "Yes." He could trust Chiaro. Not only to not hurt him, but also to protect him. He slowly slid down and relaxed in his angel's arms, feeling a wave of sweet, peaceful exhaustion. He blinked his eyes against the moisture that only Chiaro seemed to be able to elicit. He hadn't known this kind of peace still existed, apart from occasional mornings when he'd inexplicably wake up with no memory of nightmares, like he'd been sheltered from the demons all night. Odd, really. Did they just get bored occasionally? He dismissed the matter and breathed in Chiaro's scent. Leather and something spicy, like a mixture of anise, lavender and vanilla. Incense, Cesare realized. From standing in the back of the chapel when Cesare met with dignitaries. His scent was wonderfully familiar for some reason and oddly reassuring.

"Is this really okay?" Chiaro asked him. "Not too awkward?"

Cesare almost laughed again. Chiaro worried about such stupid things. "I may," he whispered, "become addicted to the feeling." He nestled a little more into Chiaro's shoulder and let sleep take him.