Iris

By: mistress_storm_crow@hotmail.com

The rain tumbled down like fiery stones and the thunder roared in the tempest sky. The pale, white glow of lightning darted from cloud to cloud with a savage ferocity that was only matched by the black eyes that reflected its light. Hot drops rushed over his face and body like rivers, making every crease and line of his form shine. He greeted the thunder, challenged the lighting, and defied the rain. Let their power engulf him! He would survive it; nothing this feeble planet could throw against him would touch him. Nothing would overcome him.

His eyes were hard and held the strength and pride of every generation of his warrior race. His body was tense and he levitated in preparation for whatever might occur. His nerves and senses were tight and sure, like someone gently pulling at the trigger of a gun. But his eyes—his eyes stared without purpose, stared off into the storm with stubborn strength, yet looked for nothing, and saw nothing.

The wind whipped through his wild hair, curled around his arms and legs, and filled him with its force. It made the rain fall sideways, in circles, and in every imaginable direction, so that not one portion of his body went un-assaulted. Water collected in the tight blue fabric of his armor and shone on the sturdy, white and yellow, upper portion.

Bulma turned uneasily in the night. She clutched the sheets to her chest and shivered; the warmth that she had known was gone from her back. A sleepy hand reached over the bed only to discover an empty space. Waking a little more, she reached even farther, searching for the strong arm of the man who had shared her bed for so long. She ran her palm over his indention in the mattress, and her eyes cracked open.

The room was darker than a patch of midnight, and it didn’t matter whether she had her eyes opened of closed.

~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

And I’d give up forever to touch you
Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be
And I don’t want to go home right now.

~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

She saw him there, watching through the foggy, glass windowpane in their room, lit only by the feeble flame of a dying candle. She held the soft curtain in a feverish, loose grip, and her warm breath against the chilled glass left its opaque mark, allowing only one clear area, through which her eyes gazed. He illuminated in the sky with every flash of lightning. He glowed in shimmering radiance against the dark clouds.

“Vegeta,” she whispered, “What are you looking for?”

A chill ran throughout her body, whether from the cold of the night or the way he looked, she could not be sure. It was his power; she could see it perfectly. Stronger than the thunder, faster than the lightning, more wild than the wind, he was part of the storm, and he was awe-inspiring.

One hand held the bunched sheets at her chest, making a flimsy shield from the cold. All power was gone, leaving the weak candle as the only source of light inside the room. But at the window, she could see clearly. She never took her eyes from him, searching his body for some indication of what was wrong.

“Vegeta,” her breath clung to the glass, “What are you doing?”

His eyes turned to her instantly, meeting her own so naturally that she wondered if he had heard her. He moved in no other way nor did his face change in the least. His mouth was still drawn in that tight, indistinguishable frown. Only his eyes changed, holding a determination Bulma had never seen before. They captured her.

~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breath is your life
When sooner or later, it’s over
I just don’t want to miss you tonight.

~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

He beckoned her, the light dancing over him shone in the deep blue pools of her eyes. She didn’t need to hear him, he had no need to speak, he was calling to her clearly enough without saying a word. His was a voice that spoke directly to her heart, although neither knew how. He wanted her to come to him; she wanted to go. Only pride got in the way, even after many years. Pride was hard to kill. It grew stronger with every roll of the eyes and snide remark, and in every lonely moment of lying together without understanding each other. It was a terrible thing to be together and still feel all alone.

It was funny. At times, she thought she could see things in him that even he did not know were there. Other times, he was farther away than the stars, and just as out of reach. She sometimes could see his eyes soften for a splintered moment when she knew he was happy, but then that same hard, almost bitter stare conquered the cold, midnight eyes, and she would lose the moment. And now, tonight, she had fallen asleep surrounded by his warmth at her back, and ended up shivering beneath flimsy sheets and watching him from foggy glass.

Yet, he was calling to her. This was the only thing that mattered in her mind. She let the curtain fall from her hand, causing it to cascade to the floor like the rain outside. She moved from the room with unnoticed urgency, almost running down the hall. The thunder boomed in the night making her senses jump. She headed steadily to a glass patio door at the end of the corridor, the opening to the square balcony, and the sinewy light from the electricity outside flashed on the walls and floor, making unusual shadows from the many objects lying lazily about.

She came to the glass doors, stopping herself by placing a hand against it, and the sensation reminded her of the cold. She flung the doors open, and the whirr of the sliding glass was lost in the echoing voice of the wind. It enveloped her immediately and massive drops of rain attacked her, stinging her face and arms. They were warm, yet the air was frigid. The hot water striking her gave temporary relief from the biting wind, but ultimately made her even colder. She looked for Vegeta, her own rainstorm.

~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

And I don’t want the world to see me
‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand.
When everything’s made to be broken.
I just want you to know who I am.

~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

She didn’t have to look far; he had already drifted to the balcony’s level and greeted her with an ambiguous stare. Her hair whipped in front of her eyes, striking her face, and she tried without success to push it out of the way. His arms were crossed at his chest, and he stared down at her. The sheets were already sopping, and clung to her every curve. The cold was almost unbearable and only grew worse with every drop of water, but she wouldn’t let him see. She wouldn’t let him know how hard simply standing there was for her. She would freeze first.

“Why are you awake, woman?” he said gruffly.

“The thunder woke me.” She lied, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. “Why are you wearing your armor?” She asked, trying to appear strong.

“It is suitable for a warrior to dress in such.” He said without feeling.

“Who are you fighting?” She asked as if humoring a child. “The storm?”

“Yes.” He said, turning his eyes from her and looking back to the clouds, and she dropped the playful coyness that she was using as a shield. He said no more, but she wished he would. She searched for words to reach out to him, yet she could find nothing. The right words refused to come to her, so she settled with what she imagined to be the wrong ones.

“Vegeta?” She whispered, no longer able to hide the shiver from her voice.

“What is it?” His voice was quick and hard, just like the rest of him.

“Why aren’t you happy?”

~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

And you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah, you’d bleed just to know you’re alive.

~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

He stepped down on the polished tiling in front of her. He captured her chin with one strong hand and watched her face, observing every movement of her eyes and each raindrop that streaked across her cheeks. Her skin was growing pale, and he noticed her lips trembling. She looked up at him, hoping to catch his eyes in her own and perhaps see what he was thinking, but he hid his secrets more effectively than all the kings of Egypt.

“You are cold.” He stated, “Why did you not dress?”

“I wanted to know what you were doing.” She said. “I didn’t care about the cold.”

He chuckled, closing his eyes and a smile creeping over his face. Bulma looked at him in wonder, her eyebrows knitting in confusion and her bottom lip dropping slightly. He released her chin and placed his hands on her shoulders. She suddenly felt the cold fade away as, looking around her, she saw a pale, blue light surrounding the two of them and rising above their heads like fire.

“Look at me, woman.” He commanded.

She stared into his face, seeing those same hard features and coal-black eyes shielding any secret thought or emotion.

“What do you see?” He demanded.

“I see you.” She said simply enough.

“And what is that?” He said with cunning. His every statement, every move, was like a predator. She could not tell if this was his new game, his new way to confuse her thoughts, or if this was something he actually wanted her to answer.

~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

And I don’t want the world to see me
‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand.
When everything’s made to be broken.
I just want you to know who I am.

~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

The lightning flashed in his eyes, and he remained silent. He continued to hold her shoulders, in what was for him a loose grip, yet Bulma felt the raw, brutal strength that those hands possessed. Hands that could break the world held her gently, and it seemed he truly was waiting for an answer.

‘But why?’ She thought, searching for answers in his face. ‘We’ve been together for so long, nearly ten years since he first came to stay with me. Ten years since Namek. Why ask this now?’

His face never changed, and she smiled at that. No, he would not show any change, yet she still needed to know it was there. Ten years would do a lot to a man, and these ten years had taken Vegeta away from solitude, placed him in a world that was ready to forgive him, a world that he had once tried to destroy. Ten years had given him something that fate had stolen away. The years had given him a home. They had given him a family. The years had given him a son and had given her to him. Perhaps he was waiting for them all to be taken away again.

The people he’d killed, the worlds he destroyed, and the dreams he had shattered, all were forgotten in her eyes. But in his—In Vegeta’s eyes, the memory of what he was once had been was as clear and as bright as the lightning. He was once ruthless, heartless. He once killed in cold blood and laughed at other’s pain. But it had been so long since he had battled an opponent, so long since a challenge. He couldn’t even be sure of what he was, but Bulma had been with him for so long; she had stayed with him for so many years. He imagined she saw something he could not. He hid behind his stony features, daring her to try to see past them, asking her to see past them.

She smiled in understanding. She saw a stubborn man trying to find a place in a world he could not understand, trying to keep hold of a way of life that was slipping away from him. He was a warrior prince, yet his planet and people died out long ago and he had no one left to fight. He had even lost the last full-blooded member of his proud race, in that last battle he was not able to win. He was proud and hard. A man that would never admit his faults openly and if allowed, would let that pride consume him. He lived to prove his dominance; he would die to prove his courage. She saw a man without a place in the world other than in the small confines of their home. He was wild, and yet tamed. He was proud, and yet ashamed. He was uncertain, and yet was happy. He merely needed to know what he was.

“I see you, Vegeta.” She whispered, pulling her face closer to his, “I see you.”

~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

And I don’t want the world to see me
‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand.
When everything’s made to be broken.
I just want you to know who I am.

~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~

He lifted her from the tile floor, and carried her inside out of the rain and the cold. He brought her into their bedroom, and the soaking sheet tumbled to the floor just inside the doorway. In a swift movement, he shut their door from all the outside world, and left the storm behind. The thunder would die away, but he would live.

~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~