Between the Lines
written by Jino Turtlegod
Gunslinger Girl created by, registered, and copyrighted to Yu Aida, Media Works, and any other company and/or division associated with the creation and/or production of Gunslinger Girl. ADV hold the copyrights to the English version of Gunslinger Girl. This work of fiction is not intended for any commercial purposes but was created for the entertainment of the Author and Fans of Gunslinger Girl.
No copyright infringement was in any way intended.
M Rating. For mature readers only. Some scenes, themes, language, and situations are not suitable for younger readers. Reader discretion is advised.
Between the Lines
"Don't touch me!" she screamed at him, as she hugged her knees while sitting down on the floor. She could not bear to see the pitying look in his eyes. She had failed him. She had lost despite all the care and training he had given her. He had trusted her as an equal and she had let him down. Worst of all, he had gotten hurt due to her bad decision. "Please, just leave me alone," she pleaded in softer tone.
He looked at her as her shoulders shuddered with soundless sobs. How could he ever tell her that he had been so scared to find her motionless on the floor, how his knees had weakened at the thought that he had allowed her to die. She was the most important person in his life. She was the reason that he still cared about the cold, cruel world. She was the reason that he still had hope in the goodness of men. He could not and would not bear to lose her. He couldn't take it anymore, and he denied her request for solitude as he pulled her pony tailed head against his chest, tears of his own threatening to spill.
The conditioning she had been given had instilled something in her for this man who held her. Was it love? She had once confessed that she did not know what she really felt for this man who was her partner and complement.
The touch of her lips shocked him, warm and moist, filled with a desperate hunger. It was not the simple kiss of a child but the passionate ardor of a lover.
Her lips journeyed around the vicinity of his mouth, her breath hot and sticky against his lips, his cheeks, his chin…
He tried to protest, to ask her what she thought she was doing. When he opened his mouth to speak, quick as a viper, her tongue slipped between his lips and attempted to tease his own into play.
She still tasted of the wine they had their lunch.
With fascinated horror he slowly became aware that his tongue was dueling with hers. He leaned back against the wall, allowing the tide of madness wash over him. For like a tide, surely this too must pass. A small part of him silently prayed that he would not drown.
He pulled her to him, his arms crossing at her back as her hands gripped the front of his shirt as they fought with their lips and tongues. Pain and warmth slowly spread from where her powerful grip had caught flesh with the cloth. And yet he wondered how she could feel so small and fragile in his arms.
She may not know what she felt or even what love is, but he was a different matter. He had felt love before and knew that the feeling he had for his partner was familiar. There was a dawning awareness in him that the main reason he did not understand her was because he was trying to keep himself from loving her.
Her blue eyes were open, dazed at the flood of unfamiliar emotions and sensations.
It was that look in her eyes that broke the tide of madness. He felt sick and ashamed. The knot of desire he was feeling turned to ash in his heart. He was no better than those demons he had saved her from – those things who masqueraded as men. What was he going to do? Was he going to use her, and cause her pain?
He pushed her away, his grip shifted to her shoulders and tightened. She pushed back at his restraint, her lips still parted in hunger. She did not know if she loved him, but at this moment, she knew she wanted him, desired him, and she had the power to take him.
He called her name as he shook her, his tone angry. It was the angry tone of his voice that awakened her – for she, and the others like her, had been conditioned to fear their handler's angry tone. Like a marionette with its strings cut, she slumped against him, panting and shivering.
She did not know if he was tempting her when his arms once more wrapped around her, his chin resting on the top of her head as he simply held her to his warm body. She did not know or cared, as her exhausted body finally gave in to the numerous shocks it had received and surrendered to oblivion.
It was morning.
The light was streaming in from the open window. A girl with black hair stood silhouetted against the morning light.
"Rise and shine, Triela," Claes said with a smile as she turned to her roommate.
"I'm cold," Triela remarked as she ran her hand through her blonde hair, the memory of the aftermath of her defeat at the hands of an assassin was still foremost in her mind as it had plagued her sleep for the past few days since it occurred.
"You are? But it's spring," Claes said, her head tilted as she looked at her friend, noting the shiver that ran through Triela. She looked back outside the window, towards the freedom that she will never feel. "The sunlight is so gentle... You should get up. You have to be at the Rec Room soon."
"Yeah. Hold on, I'm not awake yet," Triela replied, she was unsure whether she wanted to shake her head to drive the memories away or to go back to sleep and savor them once more.
"You're slow these days," Claes noted with some concern as she stood by the window, her back towards the other girl.
"A lot has happened," Triela replied sullenly.
"You're worried about your handler?"
"Sure, that's it," the blonde girl replied as she tentatively touched her lips, trying to recall the feel of her handler's lips. Now, if she could just look him in the eyes again…
In commemoration of ADV finally releasing volume 4 after 2 years and 1 month I decided to finally hunt down this little plot bunny. It was getting annoying since it first cropped up after I read volume 3, 2 years and 1 month ago…