Author Note: Wowwwwww. I am actually writing a rated "G" fiction! Me! The girl who is into all angsty, violent, tragic and rather gory fictions that she has ever come across! Heck, the world will probably explode now! Good gravy! (shakes that erm... strange feeling that just came to her aside) Okay. Just so you know, this is a one-shot fiction. And mind you, it is rather short... (much, much shorter than my other ones). What prompted me to write this...? Well—on deviant art, there was a contest in the Roseshipping fan club, where you had to draw a picture featuring Cyndia and Pegasus preparing for Christmas (and I tried several attempts to draw something that fit the guidelines, but to no avail). So, I decided I would just draw, I mean, write a one-shot of that situation instead. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh. If I did, Cyndia would have come back to life in some miraculous way, so everyone would be happy after Duelist Kingdom. Thank you.
Plot: Everyone has a day they look forward to... And it's the most joyous time of the year.
Warning: Rated K (G) (Suitable for all ages) For fluff.
-Imperfect Paradise (Yamiko)
When the Bell Tolls One
By Imperfect Paradise
"When the Bell Tolls One"
Snow fell behind the windows that Christmas eve, blanketing the earth and cabin with layers and layers of freezing sugary essence, in the northern California wilderness that late Christmas Eve.
The room was accurately decorated for the holidays. A medium sized Christmas tree stood propped up in the corner of the room, with several kinds of ornaments, each one unique from the other, with tiny yellow lights, which flashed on and off every couple of seconds. A few stray branches (trimmed from the bottom of the tree beside it) lay on top of the fireplace mantle, propping up several Saint Nick figurines with a few poinsettias peeking up from the clumps of green, looking as though they were actually blooming from the evergreen needlelike tufts. There were also some velvet stockings, which hung over the fireplace—ones served only for decorative purposes and would never be filled.
There was not a single present underneath the tree.
Yet there was a quaint charm in the room itself, a small warm feeling that would engulf even the wickedest of men, make them feel happy and gay during this joyful and jolly occasion. To top it all off, the beautiful smells of pine, cinnamon, and gingerbread wafted into the room, tingling the senses of the only figure present in this warm and cozy domain.
Buried underneath an Indian blanket, on an sofa sitting parallel to a burning fire, was a man with metallic silver hair, which almost seemed to sparkle from the light of the dancing flames ricocheting from the groove of the fireplace. His eyes were concentrated in his book, slowly turning the page to read on in his novel. A small smile was laced upon his features as he read, like sugar on a gingerbread house, looking like one who's spirit would never falter, as if he was in the most pleasantest of dreams.
And that he was.
After a few moments of remaining in the company of only himself, the door to another room (the kitchen) slowly creaked open, and he looked up from his bindings just in time to see his beautiful angel walk in.
She was standing in the doorway, holding a tray topped with two mugs of warm cider, a woman with wavy blonde hair and beautiful crystal blue eyes, which seemed as if they were beaming at him, sparking with adoration.
The man smiled and moved over slightly, making room on the sofa, allowing the woman (who was holding the tray delicately in her hands, making sure that not a drop would spill from the overly filled cups) to walk over and sit down beside him. As she sat down on his left, he looked at her tauntingly and stated, "You were late this year..."
She set the tray down on the edge of the glass coffee table (the man closing his eyes in order to fully appreciate the full smell of the apple flavored liquid) and looked off into open space, not saying anything. After a few seconds, she spoke, "You know how they don't approve of me coming here every year..."
The man looked at her curiously, and asked, "You mean… They aren't at all sentimental during the holidays?"
"Of course they are, but you are aware of their thoughts on the subject. And the others really envy me for being able to—"
A small finger suddenly touched her lips, silencing the woman in her words. She blinked for a moment, registering this. Afterwards, she slowly closed her eyes, but smiled softly, turning around to look at the man before her. She opened her eyes again, staring into the mahogany brown ones of her love, which were staring at her while in possession of a charmingly romantic light. He then whispered quietly, yet loud enough for her to hear it, "Let's just try to forget about that... We have each other tonight, and that's all I need right now..."
The woman stared at him for a moment, then leaned down forward and reached for the mugs, handing the first one to her beloved, before retrieving one for herself. They stared at each other for a moment longer, before they allowed each other to sip their soothing and relaxing drinks. As they drunk the beautiful maroon colored liquid, the man abruptly sighed and while looking down at his cup, stated, "So Cyndia… What have you seen lately?"
Cyndia looked at the man, curiously for a moment, before she asked, "How do you mean?"
The man stared at her for a second, before he smirked and drawled playfully, "Oh, Come on. I want some laughter during this season too, you know."
Cyndia looked at him, blankly, before she looked out ahead, pondering something. "Well," she started. "I have seen two lovers, both whom you know and both who are unaware that the other one likes the other…"
"Are they perfect for one another?"
"Well, spiritually and emotionally, yes… But you'd never guess it physically. It was very odd, the boy was shorter than the girl—who, by the way, looked about seventeen, eighteen—and he had the most bizarre form of hair you could have ever imagined. (The man raised his eyebrows) Anyway, the girl was leading him under a tree, which just happened to have been a mistletoe—"
The man chuckled for a moment, before he stated, "Now that's amusing…"
"Oh, it gets better. After a few seconds afterwards, she closed her eyes, leant forward—however—before she could even plant her lips upon him, some blonde boy jumped out in front of her and unintentionally stole her lips."
With that, the man broke into a chuckle, which quickly transformed into a hoot of well known hilarity. Releasing hearty booming laughs from his throat and lips, his angel smiled at him, glad that she was able to amuse her love in the way that she did. She brought her cup back up and sipped from her cider again, waiting for her love to pull himself together. After he had done so, he spoke through short breaths, "Dear, what- I- would- have paid to see that!" Cyndia giggled for a moment longer, before she set her mug down on the table, and looked out ahead. The man saw this and suddenly looked at her.
A slight hint of melancholy had taken over her, covering her like Nix in the late evening. (A/N 1) He took notice of the look his love had on her seemingly divine features, and felt his chest surge slightly, realizing exactly what was going on. He quickly looked out ahead as well, with something that looked like pity (though it was unclear at who this empathy was directed towards), not saying a word.
Then, he looked at her again, and slowly wrapped his arm around her shoulder, bringing her closer to him, leaning his head against hers. She allowed him to do this, and only buried herself further into his warmness and compassion. He responded by rubbing her back, slowly and affectionately, trying to bring warmness into their now bleak world.
They remained in this warm, yet silent state for a moment longer, before she looked up at him, and asked, sadly, "Pegasus?"
"Will you be okay?"
The silver haired man looked down at her, with steadily watering brown eyes, meeting those of her blue ones, and bit his lip. Then, he slowly opened his mouth, hesitating for a moment before he whispered, "… …Of course."
Cyndia smiled slightly, but it quickly disappeared as she continued looking into the eyes of her dearest darling. They stared at each other, their retinas boring into those of the other, not realizing that they were unintentionally bringing their faces closer and closer to one another. Their fingers intertwined, hands connecting themselves to each other without any form of resistance or struggle. They could each feel the other's breath against their slowly flushing faces, and it was only a matter of seconds before their lips connected in a chastely, yet passionate kiss. They wrapped their arms around each other, and continued to kiss, the man bringing the angel closer to him, running a hand through her long layers of honey golden hair, loosing themselves in the ecstasy of their embrace…
At the chimes of the clock as it promptly tolled one-o-clock in the morning that Christmas day, Pegasus slowly opened his exhausted eyes, meeting up with nothing but the darkness of his winter vacation retreat. (A/N 2)
The coals in the fireplace had completely gone out, probably having lost their warmth within the timeline of the previous minute, small doses of thin smoke rising from underneath them and up into the chimney.
He then closed his eyes for a brief moment, moaning softly, trying slowly but surely to wean himself from the clutches of deep sleep he had previously welcomed himself into. After a minute or so, he slowly sat up from the sofa, the book he had been reading earlier that evening falling from his lap and onto the floor, and then stared out towards the window, watching as the snow kept falling from the tops of the massive cedar trees that towered over the cabin. There was not a trace of melancholy upon his features. There was no sadness, no anger, no depression, nor any negative feelings of any kind. It was nothing more than a blank stare, giving off the impression that he was deep in thought. That was true, for his mind was still adrift in the pleasant experience he had just shared with his wonderful devotee.
After a minute or so of this, he slowly closed his eyes, in a fond manner, and a small smile appeared on his handsomely defined features. His lips then parted, as he spoke the three, warm, special words that he had always saved for this annual occasion…
"… … … … … Merry Christmas, love."
With that, he stood up, the blanket falling down on top of his book which rested at his feet, and slowly but surely began walking over towards his chambers, leaving the two cider mugs on the dining room table, the liquid inside them becoming as cool as the snow that fell outside on that cold Christmas morning.
- THE END -
The following is not meant to be counter fanfictionDOTnet format. These are merely author notes. They are not meant to counteract the rules or restrictions of the webmaster's policies in anyway. Thank you for your attention.
Author Note 1 – "Nix" (in Greek mythology) was the immortal entity that carries Hypnos (commonly known as "sleep") with her every single evening. She was also the mother of Moros (doom), Thantos (death), nemesis ("pay-back"/ retribution), Eris/Strife (breeder of woes) and the Morai (the three fates). Remember the girls who cut the wove, measured and cut the thread in the Disney movie Hercules? That was… erm… "part" them. For Disney actually combined them with three other entities known as the Graea (the woman who stared an eye between them). Anyway, sorry from straying from the topic. Still (speaking of Disney) if you want a real good look at Nix, watch the movie Fantasia, and you will see a glimpse of her in the mythological sequence, which gives you a general idea of what she looks like.
Author Note 2 – I bet some of you are wondering about what the "one-o-clock" development signifies (I mean it's reasonable to wonder that, it's the title of this story, isn't it?). Well, if it interests you, it is from Charles Dickens's classic story A Christmas Carol(I really hope that some of you have either read the book or saw the movie—and yes… I'll let you count The Muppet Christmas Carol) Pretty much, the general story of the book is a super cruel man is visited by an old friend (whose own personal tendencies were no different from that of his own) who tells him he will be haunted by three spirits—and the first ghost will appear when the bell tolls one on Christmas day.
Random Note: Okay, that's all for the weekend. Let me close by saying… "Happy Holidays—yaal." (insert anime happy face)