Work Text:
She didn’t come home; she had been waiting all day but she’s still not home.
She waited and waited for the brunette to burst through the room they shared; all scratched up and worn out but okay.
So when there was a knock on their door, she already knew there was something wrong.
Zeta remembers when they first met; it wasn’t as lovely as most first-time-meeting stories are compared to others, but it was memorable, and it was so them.
She remembers walking mindlessly in town, looking through the windows of different shops, and hoping to be able to try out those dresses, armors and suits one day, not really sure where she was heading.
And then she hears her.
Her feet starts moving to the sound of high-pitched screaming; a scream not out of terror or fear, but rather of, multiple sentences coming out of the girl’s mouth, trying to act superior by how loud their voice can but arguing incoherently with whoever was antagonizing her.
Then she sees her.
A brunette with a high ponytail being surrounded by a bunch of scrawny kids, laughing and teasing her whilst she defends herself with her booming voice, to try and reach those kids ears, trying to rise up against their deafening laughs and insults.
She thinks of how the brunette looks, of how her dress isn’t wrinkled and the color of her cloth not fading compared to those kids around her; of how she might be a noble. And she thinks of how she’d be the more superior one here than those scrawny kids.
But that doesn’t seem to be the case.
She can see that the girl is trying to keep a tough act; biting her lower-lip, trying to keep the tears at bay but there’s steel in her gaze, with her hands behind her back, seeming to be holding on to something.
There was a tug in her heart at the sight, and so, she decides to step in. Not even thinking twice.
“Hey you rascals don’t got anything better to do?” she makes sure they can hear and feel her annoyance through the sound of her voice, which made them all stop and look back to her.
“Tch, get lost girlie”, one bald scrawny kid grumbles.
She was about to retort when,
“Yeah, get lost! I can handle myself”, the brunette growls, and finally whips out what she was holding behind her back- a wooden sword.
“HA?” she exclaims, bewildered. And if it weren’t for the situation they were in, she would have laughed on how odd the girl looks, in her sky blue dress, flimsy shoes, with her wooden sword at hand, “what are you gon’ do with that?”
The kids surrounding them started laughing too, “yeah princess, what are you gonna do? Hit us with your stick?” one of them says, and the laughs have gotten louder.
The brunette grips the wooden sword tighter and barks, “Shut up! Fight me, all of you!”
The kids just continued roaring with laughter, no one taking the challenge seriously.
But she knows, the girl is serious, her eyes so fierce, radiating something she can’t put her finger quite on, her hands on the handle of the wooden sword gripping it tightly, and her stance may be a bit off, but she knows she can really take them down.
“Okay, there’s no need for that”, she tries to reason. “Let’s all just walk away and pre-“ , but before she can finish her sentence, the brunette starts walking, past the bullies, and stops a few feet away from the blonde and points the wooden sword at her.
Zeta’s eyes widens, and holds up her hands, “what the hell? I was trying to help you!” she screams, frustrated with the turn of events.
“I said, I don’t need your help”, the brunette states with so much conviction, “fight me.”
“Ha? Are you crazy?” Zeta pushes the sword down but the brunette quickly brings it back up to her, and the blonde glares at the brunette, “What the hell is your problem?”
“Everyone here thinks they’re better than me, that they’re superior than me, that they can push me around and I’m so sick and tired of that”, the brunette hisses. “I don’t need you to pity me- to save me.” The brunette looks down and closes her eyes, as if steeling and convincing herself, “I’m strong enough to take care of myself”, and with that, her eyes meets Zeta’s, and if it were any other day, if they have met in a different way, she would have told her that, she believes her, and how beautiful her eyes were.
But instead, she grabs the wooden sword, and pulls the girl closer to her, “hey, its okay”, she whispers to her ear. She felt the brunette still, her breath coming to a stop.
And it was the start of a companionship, of something more they both desperately have been waiting for in this world.
The hazelnut eyes that was filled with fierceness and anger earlier has been replaced with something Zeta can’t quite explain during that day.
But she can now.
When they’re lying on their bed at night, eyes closed, their foreheads touching, nose bumping, lips moving in sync, their hands when not roaming through each others bodies', are clasped together, and when blue meets hazel once again, it’s love; it’s that four-letter-word but at the same time it’s more than that. There’s always this need to protect her- to be there.
There’s also the gripping fear all the time, when they have to see each other off for a mission; of the need to always protect the brunette with everything and everyone despite of how strong Beatrix has become throughout the years, but the years of being with her; training and going on missions with her, the girl still hasn’t lost or toned down the stubbornness- the will to prove everyone wrong.
For the blonde, it seems like, throughout this years, all the brunette has been trying to do, is to prove to herself, that she’s strong, that she can do better, that she’s capable just as much as everyone else and can protect the people she loves too, and it’s all because of a tragedy when the brunette was little.
With every time they turn their back to each other to fulfill their duties, there’s always that kiss that’s more affectionate than ever, that look they give each other off with the promise of always coming back behind their eyes, and to never ever saying goodbye.
But that promise always seem to meant to be broken, with the numerous times Zeta have almost lost her mind every time a word gets back to them of how Beatrix has been captured. Of how she has to beg or fight her superiors to take her with the team meant to recover Beatrix.
And sometimes asking favors to that one certain crew to help her out because she's afraid that she’s not that strong enough.
The brunette would lightly joke of how she’s going to meet her parents soon whenever she’s in peril; sometimes she’d laugh it off or scold her, but most of the time, there’s always this lingering fear that that may happen.
Sometimes it strikes when they’re eating, showering, training or doing anything at all, there’s always that anxiety nagging her. Breaking through her thought no matter what she does, always there, never leaving.
That she feels her heart constrict at the thought; that sometimes she just wants to lie down with the brunette, be together alone and watch everything disappear. No more monsters, no more primal beasts, no more astrals.
If only.
Maybe the world is just too cruel or maybe the brunette is that unlucky, but one thing is for sure, she’d always be there to rescue her; to always to fulfill that unspoken promise.
As it's a cold life, stay with each other one last time.
We could always run away some other night.
