.:EIGHTEEN::.

Bulma rolled over, her eyes fluttered open, and she realized she was alone in Vegeta's bed. She let out a soft sigh, stretching, feeling very relaxed. Lately, it had been rare for her to sleep so deeply without waking in the middle of the night, and she couldn't help but savor the moment. Her sleep had been undisturbed for once, and she slept next to the Saiyan.

As she became more awake, Bulma noticed the faint sound of running water. After a moment, she realized that Vegeta was in the shower. Her brows shot up in surprise. She had expected him to wake her and bark at her to leave his room. Yet, he'd awakened and slipped into the bathroom without so much as stirring her. She smiled to herself. It was uncharacteristically considerate of him, she thought.

Bulma stared up at the ceiling, her senses hazy, and a nagging thought tugged at the edge of her mind. A flicker of a dream came back to her, sharp and vivid in parts. She'd dreamed about Vegeta. That much, she was sure. And the more she tried to recall the dream, the more the memory slowly returned to her: she'd been down at the pool, basking in a sauna. Naked and utterly alone, or so she'd thought. Vegeta appeared from out of nowhere, stepping into the small, steamy room without hesitation. He'd been naked, too.

Bulma's lips curved into a smirk as she replayed the rest, which she could remember in surprising detail, but after that, the clarity of her dream faded. She strained to recall what happened next, feeling sure they'd spoken. Yet, no matter how hard she tried to remember, the specifics of their conversation eluded her. What lingered instead was the overwhelming sensation the dream had left her with–a feeling that clung stubbornly to her chest even now as she lay in Vegeta's bed.

Love.

The realization made her blink in surprise before she burst into a quiet, breathless laugh. Love? For Vegeta? The thought was absurd, like the punchline to some cruel joke. And yet, the warmth in her chest remained.

Needing something to distract herself, her gaze drifted to the clock on the nightstand. The glowing numbers read 8:46 A.M. Bulma found herself hoping that Vegeta had managed to rest as she had. She'd already decided to give him a senzu bean to ensure Vegeta was fully healed once he was out of the shower. Once he ate it, it would give her peace of mind, knowing he wouldn't be on the verge of killing himself when he finally ventured back into the gravity chamber.

The sound of the shower shutting off sliced through the quiet room, and Bulma curled tighter on her side, pulling the blanket up over her shoulder. She kept her back firmly to the bathroom door, relishing in the fact that she was still lying in Vegeta's bed. She had no intention of moving just yet.

After a moment, the door creaked open, and it sounded as if he had laughed. Bulma froze, not entirely certain that she hadn't imagined it.

"I know you're awake." Vegeta's voice broke through the silence. "You can leave now."

Bulma's act of faking being asleep dropped instantly. She sat up abruptly, the blanket slipping down to her lap. Her eyes darted to Vegeta, and her breath hitched. He stood in the doorway with nothing but a towel slung low on his hips. Water droplets clung to his skin, and they glistened as they trailed down his chest. Her throat went dry, and her pulse quickened. But then his words finally registered, and the heat in her cheeks turned from flustered to furious.

"I think you need to be thanking me, Vegeta!" she snapped, pointing a finger at him, her voice rising. "I've saved your ass twice in the last twenty-four hours!"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed slightly, and a flicker of annoyance crossed his face. He let out a low grunt, rolling his eyes as though her outburst was nothing more than an inconvenience. Without a word, he turned and entered the closet, leaving Bulma seething and gripping the blanket tightly in her fists.

Vegeta chuckled. "You're pretty funny for a human woman."

Bulma's retort was already forming on her tongue, sharp and loaded, but it never reached her lips. Her irritation vanished when Vegeta dropped the towel. He stood completely naked in the closet, his back to her. She watched without blinking as he leaned over to rummage through a dresser drawer. The sight was brief–only a few seconds–but long enough for Bulma to take in the details. Her gaze involuntarily traveled over his muscular back, down to the curve of his rounded backside. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she bit her lip, unable to tear her eyes away.

Her attention snagged on the circular scar at the base of his spine, the spot where his Saiyan tail had once been. The mark stood out starkly against his skin, a reminder of something he'd lost in the most humiliating way–sliced off by Yajirobe, no less, during the battle with Goku.

For reasons she couldn't explain, a pang of pity struck her. That tail had been an integral part of him. It symbolized his heritage. The scar made him seem… vulnerable, though she doubted he'd ever allow anyone to see it that way.

Vegeta pulled on a pair of shorts in one swift motion. When he turned to face her, his sharp, dark eyes locked onto hers. Bulma's breath caught, and she quickly averted her gaze, looking out the nearest window. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure.

"So," she started, her voice faltering slightly before she steadied it. "I have something for you."

"What?" he asked quickly, his tone indifferent as he moved away from her to the farthest edge of the bed to lace up his shoes.

Bulma smirked, then slipped out of bed, her confidence returning in full force.

"You'll have to follow me!" Bulma said over her shoulder, not waiting for his response as she strode confidently toward the door.

Behind her, she heard an exasperated groan of annoyance, the kind only Vegeta could manage, but she knew he'd follow anyway. Smirking to herself, she stepped out into the hallway, and sure enough, it wasn't long before she heard Vegeta's heavy footsteps trailing behind her. Bulma led him past the other empty guest rooms down to her room. She could practically feel his eyes boring into the back of her head.

"Why are you taking me here, woman?" Vegeta finally demanded, his voice sharp.

If Bulma wasn't mistaken, his tone had a subtle undercurrent–something that almost sounded like hesitation. The thought made her lip twitch in amusement. She didn't bother answering as they reached her room. With a flick of her wrist, she opened the door and stepped inside, and the memories of the last time they'd been in here together flooded her mind.

As she crossed the room, her earlier confidence faltered ever so slightly, but she swallowed hard and pushed down the rush of emotions that threatened to surface. Behind her, Vegeta lingered in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. He hesitated, and he didn't set foot inside.

The memory of them together burned brightly in her mind–the heat of his hands on her skin, the feel of his body against hers. For her, it had been nothing short of incredible. The best orgasm of her life, hands down. But what about him? She found herself often wondering.

Had he felt the same? Had he hated it? Had it been nothing more than a quick indulgence to him? A moment of weakness? Thousands of questions swirled in her mind, each one more distracting than the last.

Bulma shook her head slightly, trying to clear her thoughts. She rolled her eyes, annoyed at herself and at him for staying rooted at the threshold of her bedroom.

"You planning to stand there all day?" she asked, her tone sharper than intended as she walked toward her nightstand.

He ignored her question completely and asked one on his own. "What do you doing?"

Bulma didn't respond. She opened the top drawer of her nightstand and found what she was looking for. She didn't pull out the whole bag of senzu beans; he did not need to see how many she had stashed away. Bulma slipped one small bean from the bag and closed the drawer. She raised it between her fingers, holding it up for him to see, and the hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

"This," she said.

Vegeta's frown deepened as he glanced at the object in her hand. "A senzu bean?"

Bulma nodded once. "Uh-huh."

He didn't move immediately, but his eyes locked onto the bean she held between her fingers. Without a word, he extended his hand expectantly, and Bulma chuckled and shook her head. She then lowered herself onto the bed, crossing her legs.

"You'll have to come get it if you want it," she teased, her lips curling into a smirk.

The moment the words left her mouth, she could see the shift in his expression, the flicker of annoyance and hesitation in his dark eyes. It was a small change, but she noticed it. Vegeta seemed almost uncertain.

Bulma felt a surge of power course through her veins. The raw thrill of knowing that, at this moment, she held something over the mighty Saiyan prince. Her confidence swelled as she watched him from her bed. Vegeta's uncertainty made her pulse race with an unexpected mix of triumph and something more… intimate. She felt sexy, almost invincible.

Vegeta deepened his frown and stood frozen, clearly becoming irritated by the game she was playing. He clearly hadn't anticipated this kind of challenge, but Bulma could clearly see his hesitation warring with his pride. And then, finally, with a reluctant step, he crossed the threshold of her bedroom. When he reached her bedside, Vegeta extended his hand again.

Since he'd followed directions, Bulma didn't hesitate. She held the bean out to him, placing it gently in his palm.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" Bulma's voice was light and teasing.

She leaned against her pillows, watching Vegeta's fingers close around the senzu bean. He gave a short, frustrated grunt, his face twisting into an even deeper scowl–if that was even possible, then he turned away from her, popping the bean into his mouth without hesitation.

"You need to clean up this pigsty," he grumbled as he strode toward the door.

Bulma watched him for a moment, her lips curling into a smirk as she lay back on her bed, sinking into the soft mattress. She stared at the ceiling as she tried to suppress her amusement.

"I'll get right on that," she called after him with mock enthusiasm, lifting her hand to give him a lazy thumbs-up.

She heard the door click shut, the sound echoing within the quiet room. Bulma let the silence wash over her, and the adrenaline of their interaction slowly ebbed away. She closed her eyes, smiling to herself, but then, as the seconds ticked by, something felt… off.

Bulma's eyes fluttered open. She blinked slowly, and then, after a moment, she realized she wasn't alone. Her heart skipped a beat as she stared toward the door, her gaze locking on Vegeta. He hadn't left her room like she had thought.

He stood there, his back to her, his posture tense. Bulma's breath caught in her throat as she saw him gripping the doorknob with force. His fingers were wrapped so tightly around the metal that his knuckles were white from the strain.

"Vegeta…?" Bulma whispered, his name slipping from her lips in confusion.

Bulma didn't know what was happening, but she could feel a definite change within the room. Her mind raced, and her pulse quickened as she stared at the broad back of the Saiyan prince. The silence stretched on, the seconds feeling like minutes. What was going through his mind? What had stopped him from leaving?

xXx

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, a forceful energy that clawed at him, raw and primal. It ignited something deep within, an instinct that roared to life, commanding his body against his will. Vegeta's hand clenched the doorknob with such force that it creaked under the pressure, his knuckles pale against the dark metal. But what truly enraged him–what made his blood boil–was the traitorous reaction of his body. He glared at the visible bulge straining against his shorts, and his jaw tightened in frustration. The moment the senzu bean's power had surged through his veins, mending the gashes on his body, it seemed all that renewed energy had focused itself in one place. He ground his teeth, barely containing a growl.

"Vegeta?" Her voice cut through the haze, soft yet filled with concern.

He froze, not trusting himself to respond, every nerve on edge. Her bed creaked faintly, the sound magnified in his awareness. Then, there was the unmistakable shuffle of her getting off the bed.

"Don't!" His voice came out sharp and commanding as he turned his head just enough to glance over his shoulder.

She stopped immediately, her brows knitting together in confusion. The way she looked at him–uncertain and worried–sent a wave of conflict surging through him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her tone tentative.

He turned slowly and saw it the moment her gaze fell lower. She sucked in a sharp breath, and her eyes widened as she took in his predicament. For a moment, she seemed frozen, caught between surprise and curiosity. And then, her expression shifted. Her wide eyes narrowed slightly, her lips parting in the softest hint of a smile.

Vegeta's fists clenched at his sides, every muscle tight as a wire. She wasn't supposed to look at him like that.

"You need me to help with that?" she murmured, her voice low, each word dripping with suggestion.

Without warning, his cock twitched, an unmistakable jerk within the confines of his shorts, as though it had a mind of its own. It was practically screaming its answer: Yes! Vegeta's eyes darted down to it, then back to her, his expression torn between frustration and something darker, more primal. His thoughts raced in circles, scrambling for control, but deep down, he already knew the truth. Knew what he wanted. His body had decided for him before his mind even had the chance to form a coherent thought.

His heartbeat thundered in his chest, fast and erratic, each thud reverberating in his ears. Part of him wanted to escape, to bolt out of the room and leave this dangerous moment behind. But to do so would mean admitting defeat. It would mean acknowledging that she, a mere human, had found a crack in his ironclad armor. That she held power over him.

Clenching his teeth, Vegeta forced his feet to stay rooted. His jaw tightened as she approached, her strides closing the distance between them. When she finally stopped, so close that he could feel the faint warmth radiating from her body, the sound of his racing heart seemed deafening, pounding against his ribs and echoing in his head. He prayed she couldn't hear it.

Her gaze locked onto his, and a flicker of something mischievous glinted in her eyes. Her lips curved into a teasing smile, sending an unfamiliar shiver down his spine.

"I can take care of that for you if you'd like?" she said, her voice low and sultry.

She flicked her eyes briefly down, lingering just long enough on his obvious arousal before rising to meet his once more. Vegeta stiffened, genuinely taken aback by her boldness. He was rarely caught off guard, but her forwardness left him speechless.

A bead of sweat slid down his temple as the urge to give in clawed his mind. She reached up and placed a hand lightly on his bare chest. Then, with agonizing slowness, her hand began to trail downward, her fingertips grazing over his defined muscles. The contact sent jolts of electricity through him, and his breath hitched audibly when her fingers hovered close to the waistband of his shorts. His body reacted; his erection jerked against the constraints of his shorts, stiffening even harder. He cursed silently, his pride waning with the undeniable rush of desire that coursed through him.

"Let me help you, Vegeta," she purred, her voice low and soft.

Her teasing touch lingered on his abdomen. Vegeta's dark eyes locked onto her piercing blue ones. He swallowed hard, his throat dry.

"You already have," he croaked.

He had meant the senzu bean, but the playful arch of her eyebrow and the way her smile deepened told him she had thought he meant something differently.

"Let me help you again," she whispered.

Without warning, her forefingers slid beneath the waistband of his shorts and pulled lightly. Vegeta felt his legs betray him, stepping forward instinctively, closing the gap between them. His heart hammered in his chest so loud it was deafening. Their faces were close—so close he could feel her breath against his skin. Her eyes bore into his, blazing with heat.

"Please," she said so quietly it was almost inaudible.

For a moment, Vegeta stood paralyzed, his pride battling against the primal instincts threatening to overwhelm him. But then, ever so slightly, he nodded. It was small, almost imperceptible, but it was all she needed.

Her hand slid further into his shorts, her fingers wrapping around his aching length. Her touch was soft, impossibly warm, and his body tensed in response. His breath caught as he stared at her, wide-eyed, the weight of the moment sinking in. Had he lost his ever-loving mind?

Then she began to stroke him, her movement slow, deliberate, and maddeningly effective. Every ounce of reason evaporated as pleasure surged through him, and in that instant, he knew the answer.

Yes. Yes, he had.

xXx

Bulma's hand moved in a slow, deliberate rhythm, her eyes locked onto Vegeta's gaze. Every stroke sent a thrill coursing through her, a mix of disbelief and exhilaration igniting a fire deep inside her. The feel of his rigid member in her grasp made her bold, and the aching pulse between her thighs only intensified, driving her to tighten her grip as she continued her movements.

She leaned into him, pressing herself against his hard body. Vegeta remained silent, his stoic demeanor unbroken, but the faint hitch in his breathing betrayed the pleasure she knew he was feeling. This realization filled her with a sense of power. Feeling irresistible and utterly in control, Bulma tilted forward and let her tongue glide along the curve of his neck before planting a lingering kiss on his heated skin.

Vegeta's arm slid around her waist and pulled her closer, his grip firm and possessive. She felt an electric surge of confidence, and with her free hand, she found his waistband again and tugged it down, revealing him fully. Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze fell upon him. Though she had caught glimpses of the outline beneath his training shorts before, it was nothing compared to seeing him like this. Her tongue flicked over her lips as another pulse shot through her core, leaving her breathless and hungry for more.

Her hand resumed its rhythm, faster now, her strokes confident and eager. Vegeta's breath hitched audibly, and a low, guttural sound escaped his throat, his composure finally faltering. His chest heaved with each breath, and Bulma found herself utterly consumed by the moment.

Then, she found herself leading him over toward her bed. When they reached it, Bulma turned to face him, placing her hands on his shoulders. Her touch was steady, yet her pulse raced as she guided him to sit on the edge of the bed. To her surprise, he didn't resist. All the while, Vegeta's piercing eyes bore into hers.

His shoes still clung to his feet, and Bulma knelt without hesitation, untying and pulling them off one by one. She followed with the socks. Rising, she placed her hands on his hips, her fingers dipping under the waistband of his shorts, and slowly, she tugged them down.

Touching his shoulders again, she guided Vegeta to lay back on the bed, and he allowed her. His naked, powerful frame stretched out against her purple sheets, and the sight stole her breath. Her eyes traveled over him, drinking in every detail–the chiseled muscles of his chest, the scars that told stories of battles she could only imagine, and the undeniable evidence of his arousal. Her gaze lingered on his hardened length, her cheeks flushing with heat as desire coursed through her. Swallowing hard, Bulma stepped back just long enough to strip off her t-shirt, then tossed it carelessly on the floor. Without a second thought, she climbed onto the bed and positioned herself between his legs.

xXx

Vegeta leaned back against the mound of pillows, his breath uneven as his eyes remained fixed on the woman before him. She sat topless, her smooth skin glowing softly in the dim light of her room, her legs tucked beneath her. His mind churned in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, each thought clashing with the next, while his heart pounded relentlessly in his chest.

When her delicate hand wrapped around him again, he couldn't suppress the shiver that ran through his body. Her touch on him was confident, and her strokes measured. His head tipped back onto the pillows, and he closed his eyes as a growl rumbled in his throat. He'd never let a female touch him like this before, and the pleasure of the moment almost became too much to contain. Vegeta bit down on the inside of his cheek as he fought to keep any more sounds from escaping.

But then, he felt something unexpected–a sudden warmth engulfed the tip of his cock, and his eyes snapped open. He stopped breathing when he saw her. Her lips were wrapped around him, her expression full of determination. Panic surged through him, his Saiyan instincts flaring to life. Without thinking, his hand shot out, grabbed her shoulder, and pushed her back abruptly.

"It's okay, Vegeta," she breathed as her eyes met his.

Slowly, she released him and rested her hands gently on his thighs as she straightened and sat back up. His heart beat erratically within his chest, and Vegeta willed it to calm down as he struggled to process what had just happened. His dark eyes bore into hers, conflicted. Trust had always been a luxury he could not afford, and the idea of allowing someone to place their mouth on him was something he had never permitted–not in all his years, not with anyone.

She reached for his hardened length again, her touch hesitant.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she told him, her voice as gentle as a whisper.

Vegeta swallowed hard, his body trembling slightly beneath her touch. Though her words were kind, the weight of his fear still clashed with the intoxicating pull of her presence. He knew she wouldn't hurt him. Yet, despite that certainty, his thoughts swirled.

It was shameful to admit, even to himself, but he had long harbored a curiosity for oral stimulation, something he'd only observed from afar. During his years in Frieza's army, the male soldiers were unabashed in their pursuits of females, often boasting of their sexual conquest in their desires in great detail. Not Vegeta, though. He was a prince, and a prince had standards. When he ever had the rare chance to partake in fleeting carnal opportunities, they had always been behind closed doors. He'd never permitted a female to take him in her mouth. Hell, the only way he'd ever been with a female was from behind, never looking them in the eyes anyway. His encounters with the opposite sex had always been impersonal.

Vegeta blinked, shaking off the past, and returned to the present. Bulma sat between his legs, her delicate hand wrapped firmly around him, stroking slowly. A sharp jolt of pleasure surged through his body, his breath hitched, and a growl rumbled in his throat. He wanted more, he decided. He wanted all of her.

"Okay," he ground out through clenched teeth, his voice strained.

Bulma didn't respond with words, but her smirk told him everything. It grew into something teasing, confident, and undeniably sexy as her bright blue eyes met his. She shifted, tucking her legs out from beneath her and lowering herself onto the bed. Settling between his thighs, her warm hand grasped him again, sending another wave of heat coursing through him.

He couldn't tear his gaze away as she leaned forward, her pink tongue slipping out to touch the tip of his cock. The contact made his breath stutter, his muscles locked as a flood of sensation crashed over him. Slowly, deliberately, she ran her tongue around the sensitive head as she explored him. Each touch was deliberate, and every second felt like an eternity. Vegeta's chest heaved, his pride battling against the sheer, overwhelming pleasure of surrendering to her in this way.

When she finally placed the head of his cock in her warm, wet mouth, Vegeta's control shattered. A raw, throaty moan escaped him before he could stop it. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever known–her lips soft, her mouth impossibly hot, and her tongue… her tongue was driving him insane. Each time she rose, she swirled it around the sensitive head, sending electric shocks down his spine. It was maddening, intoxicating, and utterly consuming. As her hand joined the rhythm, moving in perfect harmony with the slow, deliberate motion of her head, the combined sensation of her touch and her mouth sent a wave of pleasure so overwhelming that Vegeta felt he might completely lose control.

Another moan tore free from his throat, unrestrained and primal. His hands clenched at the sheets, but the need to touch her overwhelmed him. He eventually lifted his hand and rested it on the crown of her head. Touching her lightly, he gave in to the primal urge to guide her as she sucked on him. His hips began to rise and fall, small thrusts that pressed him deeper into the heat of her mouth. The wet sound of her spit trailing down his shaft added a slickness, allowing her hand to move faster, easier. She increased her pace, her mouth working him with growing hunger, her hand matching the rhythm with perfect precision. The tension inside him coiled tighter, pleasure building in waves, each one threatening to crash harder than the last.

Vegeta couldn't stop the deep moan that escaped him as the pleasure intensified, surging through him in uncontrollable waves. Her mouth was warm and wet, and as she slid down further, her lips sealed tightly around him, he felt the tip of his cock graze the back of her throat. The sensation was electric, pushing him dangerously close to losing himself entirely.

Instinct took over, and his hand pressed down on the back of her head, guiding her even lower. The action caused her to gag slightly, her throat constricting around him before she pulled back, gasping for air. Her lips left him, and the cool air of the room brushed against his saliva-slick shaft, sending a sharp shiver up his spine. The contrast between her mouth's heat and the air's chill only made him ache for her lips around him again. He gritted his teeth, the need almost unbearable.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long. After catching her breath, she leaned forward, her mouth descending onto him again. This time, there was no hesitation, only deliberate, steady movements as she took him in again. Vegeta's head fell back against the pillows, a moan ripping from his throat as she worked him with an intoxicating mix of confidence and care. Every time she moved, the suction of her lips and the swirl of her tongue sent him spiraling further into a haze of ecstasy.

He no longer cared how he sounded; the grunts and moans tumbling from his lips were beyond his control. Nothing had ever felt this good before, and all he wanted was for it to last forever. But as soon as that thought crossed his mind, his body had other plans, and the telltale pressure of release built rapidly. The sensation climbed higher, hotter, and more intense with every passing second. His restraint unraveled completely.

"Fuck," he whispered, the word strained and breathless, as his voice trembled while he wavered on the edge of release.

Bulma finally broke eye contact as though she instinctively understood what was happening. Without hesitation, she quickened her pace, her mouth and hand working together perfectly. Vegeta shut his eyes tight as he surrendered to the mounting pleasure. He allowed himself to be consumed by the moment, and each movement sent shockwaves through his body, building him higher and higher.

The pressure in his core tightened, and he knew he was extremely close. Vegeta propped himself on his elbows, and the new angle offered an unrestrained view of her. The sight of Bulma between his legs, her lips wrapped around him, sent a jolt of pleasure surging through him. His cock twitched in her mouth, and a low moan escaped him.

He teetered on the edge, the sensations almost too much to bear. Just as he felt himself about to spill over, he instinctively reached down, his hand gripping her arm in an attempt to pull her off. But Bulma didn't budge. She shook her head, her mouth remaining firmly around him. Her eyes lifted, locking onto his with a look of challenge.

With a deep groan, Vegeta surrendered, the orgasm hitting him with an intensity he had never experienced. His body jerked as he released into her mouth, his cock pulsing with each wave of pleasure. She stilled, letting him spill into her, her hand pausing its movements as she held him steady. The heat and wetness of her mouth wrapped around him felt overwhelming, almost too much, and he couldn't stop the moans that spilled from him.

As the tremors subsided, he felt her swallow, the sensation sending another shiver through him. He moaned again, softer this time, unable to help himself. When she finally pulled her mouth away and removed her hand, his body jerked involuntarily at the loss of her touch.

Bulma sat up between his legs, her movements fluid and unhurried, her breasts swayed gently. She wiped her mouth and chin with her hand, her expression unreadable. That was when the weight of what had just happened settled in, and within seconds, a thick, awkward tension filled the air between them.

Without a word, Vegeta sat up abruptly, grabbed his discarded clothes, and stormed into the bathroom. The door shut firmly behind him as he tossed the garments onto the counter and leaned heavily against the wall. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the floor, his mind racing.

Damn her. He cursed himself for giving in again, for letting her pull him into her web. She was impossible–an enigma. A human, of all things. He shouldn't let someone like her entice him the way she had. Frustration boiled over as he raked a hand through his hair, wishing she would leave his quarters. But she was still there when he finally emerged from the bathroom after he dressed.

"I'm going to train," he muttered curtly, avoiding her gaze as he moved toward the door.

"Vegeta, can we talk?" she called after him, her tone softer, almost pleading.

He ignored her, his jaw tightening as he exited the bedroom. Training was his only escape, the only place where he could lose himself and drown out the confusion he found she brought into his life.