Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ A Beautiful Love ❯ The Return ( Chapter 1 )

A sinister cape billowed as the mysterious, dark rider rode thunderously in the quiet darkness of the night. The lone hoof beats echoed, startling the guards at the nearby estate during the gentle down pour of rain.

"Burch! Do you hear it?" an elderly guard barked.

"Aye, who could be riding at this hour?" Burch, his companion wondered curiously.

The rider's solemn, yet handsome face was darkly tanned and his muscularity slightly intimidating, even to men. His eyes were enough to make men quail under their scrutiny and had a very odd effect on women. They were an almost demonic color of burgundy that had a potential to gleam with passion and zeal if provoked or moved.

The aged man's brown eyes widened as the rider drew closer and closer…He barked out hoarsely. "It's the Lord Master! Make way for the Master!"

Burch sprung up, suddenly active as if he had been set on fire. "Make way for the Master!" he yelled at the other two guards who were soundly asleep, startling them thoroughly.

The tall, black, iron gates creaked as they opened. A grave baritone voice sounded out sending waves of joy and pride to the old man. "Thank-you, Burch." He handed his mount to one of the young guards.

"Welcome home my Lord." He said with a voice full of deep loyalty, and pride swelling his chest as he saw the man that his master had grown into.

The man of six and twenty smiled in a way that made Burch's eyes light with warmth.

Like a graceful panther he entered his estate, his heart pounding under the heavy riding clothes.

…why in hell, he wondered, was his heart thumping?

He glanced wistfully at the door across his chamber but reluctantly entered his. Closing his door softly behind his back his mouth went dry at the image before him…

The rain started with a sudden fierceness.

A girl, no, a woman, rested on his bed wearing his shirt. Her golden brown hair was spread carelessly on the whiteness of the pillows, her cheeks a rosy hue, and her long eyelashes fanned her cheeks. The last time he saw the green eyed goddess, she was a mere slip of a girl of seventeen, developing tantalizing curves that made men around her take a double take. These three years had molded her into an enchantress, a heavenly creature set to carve his heart out.

At that moment, he was sure that God was torturing him, punishing him, making him weak. He subconsciously walked towards the bed with remarkable grace---remarkable for a man of his awesome size---and gently bent down on his knees and silently gazed at the sleeping form of the woman before him.

What was the meaning of this? Why was she lying in his bed? Surely not to warm it for him…Gods, she had no right to taunt him in this way…no right at all.

The rain was making the flames in the fireplace dance wildly.

A crack of lightning, so loud, made the young woman jump up. A scream of panic escaped her lips as she saw a dark muscular shadow beside her bed, only to have a callous hand close around her mouth, strangling her scream.

"Gods woman, will you quiet down or the whole household will awaken," his deep voice warned. It was a dearly familiar voice, a voice she had grown up with, cherished, and adored.

"Van--?" A shaky whisper echoed as he removed his hand and sat beside her on the enormous bed.

"Yes." He whispered back hoarsely. Not getting a chance to do or even say anything else, the woman launched herself into his arms, her arms wrapping around his neck.

"I've missed you so much." She whispered into his ear. Van realized with pain that she was almost on his lap, embracing him like a child. He hated it. Hated the feeling she evoked in him.

With a tear sliding down her cheeks, she released him and calmly sat beside him. "I should murder you!" she informed him in a deadly voice, while her eyes, eyes that reminded him of exotic verdant forests, were filled with a mixture of pain and warmth.

"Why, pray, would you want me to die prematurely?" A smile stole over his features, immediately softening his whole face.

"You left me for three years! Without a note to me, without a hint, without a good-bye. Just disappeared from my life." Her fury made her eyes gleam with enchantment and she distinctly reminded him of the young child she once was in his shirt that was many sizes too big. Her confession made him feel guilty, but he decided it was best. Best for both of them.

His hand found hers and gently patted it, fearing if he dared to gather her into his arms, he wouldn't be able to control his emotions. "I missed you as well, Hitomi. Every single day, I wished I could return home," and he added after deep thought, "home to you."

She flinched slightly as he caressed her hand subconsciously, stopping when he realized what he was doing. "And would you give me the honor of telling me why you exactly left for three years?"

He inhaled deeply, relishing the smell of Hitomi---a smell of gardens that she worked on usually. "I had business to take care of. Some investments and shipments."

It was true---but only partially.

An eyebrow raised she asked, "You couldn't tell me when you left?"

He shrugged, not wanting to lie to her. As she watched the man before her, her look softened. "Here, come here, let me see you."

His maroon met the vital, sparkling eyes, the color of leaves. She observed him carefully, his stubborn jaw with its stubble, his darkly tanned face, and his serious face. She noticed his eyes had dark circles and her heart ached to erase them, to wipe the aloofness, his hard exterior that he presented to the people. He had been burdened with so much ever since the declining health of his father, and though the age difference between Hitomi and Van was six years, it seemed like a vast gap.

She traced his jaw while he eyed her warily, ignoring the tingling feeling he felt wherever her gentle, smooth, fingers touched. "You're still the same, Van."

He smiled and pushed her hand back to her. "Would you give me the honor of telling me why you are in my bed wearing, if I am not mistaken, my shirt?" He was amused and she knew he was mocking her by using the same tone she had used earlier. Hitomi could tell it in the way his eyes sparkled with mirth and even slight curiosity.

A blush that crept up from her neck rose to her face but nonetheless she met his eyes bravely. "I-uh well, I missed you and I hadn't heard a word from you in so long…so I decided to sleep here. It reminded me of you…and then some of your shirts," Gods, this was hard to explain and at the time when she had thought of this it seemed perfectly natural and logical to be sleeping in his bed, "had your…smell." She blushed even more fiercely cursing herself for her foolishness of occupying his bed.

She was mentally drowning herself in an ocean of embarrassment as her gaze went to her hand that lay on the covers. She had no idea what was going through the mind of the male that sat before her in casual elegance.

But she jerked her head up to look at him when he laughed heartily at her. To hell with control! The next thing she knew was the she was being swept into his arms---his powerful arms---in a bone crushing embrace. Her fingers laced through his wet hair and locked in each other's embrace, there they stilled for a few moments. Reluctantly, she pulled away, immediately missing his warmth.

He gave her one breathless look when she tore away from him. But she frowned. "You're soaked."

He grinned at her. "M'dear, I wouldn't mind getting soaked in the least bit if it would help me get here faster to you."

She made a face at him, not sure whether to laugh or scold, but chose the latter. "At this rate, you'll catch croup or something worse."

His lips twitched in amusement. "After your threat of murdering me, I would most gladly perish from a severe case of croup." She gave a `humph!' and scowled at him.

Silent laughter shook his shoulders as she reluctantly got off the enormous bed and walked into the bathroom to retrieve a towel. She was wearing loose cotton pants that he'd never seen before. When she returned he cast amused eyes at the pants. "Oh this," she guessed and blushed slightly, "I stitched it myself. I couldn't wear your pants," he flashed a grin, "they were too sizes too big, clearly made for a man of your stature."

With ease, she climbed the bed and went and kneeled before him, her honey hair falling around her in a most captivating manner. "Hold still, Van. Let me rub your hair out."

As she rubbed, the deep V of the shirt exposed her flesh, especially as her hands rhythmically rubbed down his hair. He sealed his eyes…he wasn't going to think of it or see it…the enchanting way her delicate breasts thrust at the shirt, the way her skin unintentionally peeked out…no, it was sordid…his thoughts should never stray this way. Never! Hitomi frowned slightly at the man who shut his eyes and looked almost as if he was battling himself.

She ceased her rubbing, and lovingly finger combed the wild, dark, locks of hair. Once finished, she sat back down and asked softly. "What's wrong?"

He snapped his eyes open. "Nothing," he grinned forcefully. Not for once did she think that he was terribly in need of rest.

"You really should sleep, Van. You look weary."

He laughed hoarsely as he rubbed his back thinking of the long journey he had taken. "I suppose so."

She brightened, eager to allay any pain that her precious Van felt. "Do you want me to massage your back? That ride must have made you awfully tired."

His eyes widened slightly. "No!" She looked a little surprised at his exclamation. The last thing he wanted was her hand on his body---any part of his body! "I meant that it's nothing that a good night's sleep can cure." He added off-handedly. "By the way, you need your sleep as well."

"Are you sure?" She asked quizzically.

"Yes."

She gave him an easy, dazzling smile that knocked the breath out of him and leaned up to kiss his cheek. The imprint of her lips remained on his cheek, and he had the most ridiculous desire to want it to stay there…forever.

"Did you want me to change the sheets? I've slept a good few hours on it." She asked as she neared the door.

He smiled in thanks. "No. I'll be fine. It's only you, after all."

"Good night, Van."

"Good night, sweet." He replied. There was a click of the door and with a gentle thud he collapsed on the bed. No, the fire between them hadn't changed at all. The long separation had been of no use.

The scent hit his nostrils like a tidal wave and he groaned. It was a scent, his scent mingling with hers, concocting a fragrance that left his mouth dry. He turned sideways on the bed, only to be a hit with the lingering scent of her hair. She was everywhere, her scent, her presence, and her essence. He cursed Fate, cursing it infinitely for making him act like a deranged animal. He knew one thing; he would definitely get no sleep, whatsoever.

He should've asked for the sheets to be changed, he thought despairingly.

A thought haunted him every moment he lived, making him curse not for the first time under his breath.

…why, in the name of damnation, did they have to share the same father?

A/N: Aaaah! Before you start throwing tomatoes at me, this is NOT, I repeat NOT, incest! If this is the first story of mine that you're reading, please read my other one "Yours and Mine." Anywhoo, thanks a lot! Reviews will be greatly appreciated. Not updating until I get 10 reviews on this one! ^_~