Chapter Text
It was late, much too late for anyone to be in the kitchens. But Venus couldn’t sleep. It had been a long evening of food and music and fireworks. Endymion was visiting the Moon in an official capacity for the New Year. She knew that he was currently visiting Serenity in an unofficial capacity. Usually, Venus chaperoned, as did Endymion’s right hand, Kunzite.
But tonight, the Princess had sneaked away after dessert before Venus could catch her. It wasn’t hard to guess where – or rather, to whom – she’d run off.
The hallways of the palace were dark, and Venus slipped through them by memory. Her long, ecru silky sleep trousers skimmed over her bare feet as she found her way to the kitchen, lighting a small lamp on the table.
She wasn’t hungry. She was restless and wanted to soothe herself with a snack. And her pacing was keeping Artemis up.
Venus helped herself to one of the exotic fruits Endymion had brought as a gift. It was beautiful – a brilliant orange with a thick but delicately-pockmarked skin. It felt leathery and cool, and she sat on the table, letting her bare feet swing, struggling to remove the rind. She was almost certain you were supposed to remove it.
As she twisted her waist to lean into the light, something in the shadows caught her eye. She was on her feet instantly, and almost as instantly a deep voice said, “I bring no threat!”
Venus’ eyes adjusted to the change in light after a moment’s pause. It was one of Endymion’s guards. No, it was definitely the leader, Kunzite. She remembered him well. They’d spent a lot of time together co-chaperoning their respective royals. His unexpected presence reminded her that she’d grown fond of that time together, and that her heart had raced when he arrived this evening.
Venus sat back up on the table, and he made a face. She smiled a little, despite herself. “What could bring you to the kitchens at this hour?” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“I could ask the same of you.” He had moved into the room now.
“I live here,” she replied, fumbling with the orange fruit. It smelled amazing; she had been salivating trying to open it a moment ago.
Kunzite paused, watching her struggle, then said, “I couldn’t sleep, so I was patrolling the halls.”
“We have people that do that.” She had punctured the rind and a sweet-smelling juice dripped down her hand. But it wasn’t peeling back. She twisted again to lean into the light, lying on her hip and half-sprawling across the table.
“Do– Can I help with that?” Kunzite finally said, his voice sounding more strained than usual.
“How does this open?” Venus said, her mouth scrunching into a little frown. She sat up again, handing the fruit to him.
Hesitantly, he took it, sitting in a chair like a proper person and digging into the fruit. “Start here. You had the right idea using your thumbnail. See.”
Venus leaned across the table, lifting her knee to rest her leg on its surface to get a better view. She had never seen his hands without gloves before. They were nice. Long fingers, but not skinny. Thin, bright juice trickled down his thumb as he peeled back a substantial portion of the orange rind. “I see,” she said, having paid no attention to the lesson at all.
“You finish it,” he said, thrusting the fruit back at her.
Venus sat up, crossing her legs and swinging one foot as she worked the skin from the fruit. Her hair had been very loosely tied up in a knot, and as the strands slipped free they tickled her neck. It gave her goosebumps.
The fruit was no match for her now, and she tossed the skin aside proudly, turning the fruit over in her hands. The flesh was bright orange, too, puffy and sectioned, with yellow strands. It was really quite pretty. She fished to separate the segments, slipping her finger into the open spot at one end, working her finger in to push the segments apart. When she did, juice squirted on her hands and face.
When she tasted it, she was thankful it missed her eye. It was sweet and tangy and made her tongue twist a little.
She was about to tear into the thing when she remembered Kunzite. In her fascination she had forgotten that he was sitting across from her as she had fondled the thing. Her face warmed. “Oops!” she said, plastering on a smile.
He passed her a linen napkin. She dabbed her hot face and then set the fruit in the napkin, separating the pieces in a more ladylike fashion.
It was delicious . It reminded her of the sun. She’d never tasted anything so bright before, something that tasted like laughter. The juice dribbled down her chin a little, and she dabbed at it with the napkin.
Neither of them spoke for what felt like minutes. Finally Venus said, “This tastes amazing, I’ve never eaten anything so fun.” She held out the rest. “Have some, please.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Please, you’re my guest.”
“No, thank you.”
“Because I put my hands all over it?”
“You– No, I’m just not a fan.”
She swung her legs around to his side of the table, resting her feet on the chair next to him. “How could you not be?”
“Do you have to sit like that?” Kunzite said, instead of answering her question.
Venus broke apart another segment in her mouth, the tartness forcing her to smile. “I have to or I’ll die,” she said dramatically.
Kunzite raised an eyebrow and looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but was better trained than that. “Speaking of which,” he began, her wide blue eyes turning to him. “Is it true that you Moon folk can’t die?”
Venus almost choked on her sour snack. Well, that was… forward . “It’s not a secret ,” she said, eying him up and down.
Realizing himself, his steel-gray eyes widened larger than she’d ever seen. “It’s not– This isn’t tactical , I am curious –”
She had never seen him so disheveled before; he looked good with his foot in his mouth, all flustered and embarrassed. He was usually frustratingly – and fascinatingly – stoic.
“We have the gift of very long life,” Venus explained. “Other than that, we are mostly just like you, the people of Earth.”
“I see.”
It was hard to tell in the low light, but she was sure his face had changed colors. His embarrassment was endearing, as was how well he masked it, staying professional and military, if at-ease.
“Why don’t you want any of this thing, this–”
“Orange. It’s called an orange.”
Venus looked back down at the orange. Really? She wondered if Earth culture named everything so ridiculously.
“And no thank you, as I said. I don’t care for the taste.”
Venus raised her brows. She couldn’t understand how anyone could dislike this orange, but to each his own. “We don’t have anything like this here,” she said as she resumed eating.
It really wasn’t the tidiest thing to eat. As delicious as the juice was, there seemed to be a never-ending amount of it, and Venus felt it dribble down her chin and drip down between her breasts. She already knew the sugar would leave a sticky streak down her chest, and when she glanced down, it was glistening in the low, flickering light of the lamp.
She dabbed at it with the napkin, but Kunzite had clearly already noticed. He was staring very deliberately across the room at a blank wall, stone still. Venus smiled to herself. The yellow light gave his silver hair a gilded sheen around his darkened eyes, and the lamplight danced across his cheekbones and jawline.
“It’s an exotic flavor,” Venus said, breaking the silence. Kunzite looked back at her, his mouth a firm line, and she bit into a section of orange flesh, juice splattering. His tan face darkened a few shades and he stammered for a minute before she said, “Would you hand me another napkin, please? I’ve made a mess.”
As he fumbled for one, Venus could hear Mars’ voice in her head: “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” and she felt a little ridiculous. Just ask the man if he likes you, she thought. She accepted the red napkin from him, realizing that now she was the one blushing. “Goodness, I really did make a mess,” she muttered. “I must look like a wreck. And my hair is coming loose…”
“The red looks nice,” Kunzite blurted before going completely still, panic at the corners of his eyes. “Your hair. Not the napkin. The–” He gestured unhelpfully. “The ribbon.”
“Oh.” One hand flew to the ribbon she had hastily tied around her bun – or what was left of it. “Oh, this? I just threw it on.”
“Well. It is the middle of the night,” he said, standing from his chair a little too quickly. “Are you able to handle the rest of the orange by yourself?” His mouth quirked into a grin, and Venus found herself mirroring the expression.
“I’m a big girl,” she answered with a wink.
“Of course,” he answered, heading to the door like someone had called for him. “Good night, Princess.”
“Good night, General” she echoed, watching him leave too soon. She pouted, squishing the last segment of fruit between her sticky fingers. She had a little cut on her lip from training with Jupiter that morning, and the acid burned in it deliciously. She washed her hands and face in the closest basin and took another orange with her on her way back to her rooms. She wanted to try eating it first thing in the morning.
Her hair continued to slip loose from its bonds at the top of her head. When she reached her bedroom, she pulled the ribbon loose, turning it over in her hands for a moment before hanging it in its place on her vanity. Maybe in addition to trying an orange for breakfast, she would try wearing the red ribbon in her hair, more properly this time.
Mars was right. She really couldn’t help herself.