Title: The Sonnets

Summary: Oneshot. Fluff. He had always known she loved poetry, what he hadn't know was that poetry wasn't the only thing she loved. BreakShalon

Author's Note: I've been a Pandora Heart's fan for quite some time and my friends have always asked me to write a fanfiction so here it is, it's a oneshot, but if you want I can make it into a fluff fest and I'll just post fluffy oneshots of Break and Shalon. If I did that I'd try to make each chapter a different sonnet or two, even if they're not woven through them like this but instead just acting out the sonnet. I'd like to get through all of his sonnets.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pandora Hearts or any of the sonnets contained here.

Sonnet 46 & 47

The rain pounded against the large windows, rattling the plate glass in its braces. She lifted her eyes to the window across from her curiously as a low rumble picked up in the distance.

She turned back to her book, turning the page, listening to the sound of the thick cotton paper brush against the other sheets. She enjoyed the feel of her fingers against the soft blend, the wonderful script of the story sprawled against the off-white paper. She shifted her weight against the roman couch she was sitting on, pulling her dressing down up over her feet. The fire crackled in the hearth nearby, flickering in time with the lamp on the table next to her. The door opened and shut, she didn't look up.

"I thought I would find you here, milady." His voice breached her half-conscious state, he loved her when she was like this, she would get into a book and the only thing she could hear or see was the book. He walked over and sat down on the couch next to her as she scooted over.

"Xerxes," she smiled vaguely, dazed from reading.

"I think we need to look into getting you a set of reading glasses, my dear, you're reading awfully close to your face." She pulled his arm around her shoulders, making herself comfortable against his side. He kicked his shoes off and lifted his feet up and rested more comfortably on the couch.

"I think you're full of it," she replied, resting her head against his shoulder. "How are you?" She closed her book, finger marking her place, as she looked up at him.

"I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" He blinked down at her. "Do you remember when I used to read to you when you were a little girl?"

"Of course I do." She smiled. "I used to love it when you'd tell me stories," Sharon put the book in his hands. "How about you read to me again?"

"Well you can read on your own now, milady, I don't have to read to you." He chuckled.

"I could read then, Xerxes." She reminded and he looked down at the book curiously, then looked over at her. Her long hair was down, free of its usual ponytail and her lavender eyes sparkled with earnest interest.

"Yes, alright, imbibe my vocal talents." He rested his cheek against her head, enjoying the feel of her silky hair against his face. The faintest scent of candy apple reached his senses and he let a soft smile spill onto his face, she had grown up to be quite the woman, but she had always used the same sweet scent. "I think perhaps you should start using a more adult perfume, milady." He observed.

"One more alluring perhaps?" She looked up at him and he looked down. "What if the one I want to allure doesn't enjoy the scents of roses and vanilla… perhaps his scent is more sweet and sugary?" She tilted her head.

"I can't imagine a man like that, but you have some time yet to find a suitor… besides, now is not the best time." He looked down at the book, opening it. "Shakespeare, milady? Not your usual type."

"I enjoy sonnets from time to time, don't act like I'm uncultured Break." She mocked offense. He smiled faintly.

"Sonnet 46." He read through it, then suddenly understood why she was reading them… they were romantic. He chuckled deep in the back of his throat and pulled her a little closer beneath his arm. "Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war. How to divide the conquest of thy sight;" His voice was smooth and steady to her ears as he read, one arm around her helping the other hand support the book. "Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar, My heart mine eye the freedom of that right." She shifted, turning on her side to rest her head on his shoulder, her nose brushing his neck. He smiled again as one of her arms snuck over his chest.

"My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie-- A closet never pierced with crystal eyes--" He continued, resting his cheek against her hair again. "But the defendant doth that plea deny, and says in him thy fair appearance lies." His heart skipped as she rested her palm against his chest, her arm resting on his abdomen.

"I can feel your heartbeat," she chuckled.

"I can feel yours." He replied. "To 'cide this title is impaneled, A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart," her heart thudded in her chest, she hoped he was lying about being able to feel it… it felt like it was going to burst, the way it did every time he was so close to her. "And by their verdict is determined, The clear eye's moiety and the dear heart's part:" he almost couldn't read the last lines, his heart clenched on itself. "As thus; mine eye's due is thy outward part, And my heart's right thy inward love of heart." She closed her eyes, she was warm and safe and tucked away under Break's arm, that was all that mattered, her knight was there to keep her safe.

"Are you falling asleep, milady?" He looked down at her.

"Hmm… perhaps, keep reading though," she buried her face in his neck and a smiled pulled at his lips once more.

"Sonnet 47."

"This my favorite." She replied, dozing slightly. For as long as she had known him she had never quite understood him… but maybe that's what kept them together, the idea that someday she would understand everything about him.

"Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took, And each doth good turns now unto the other:" he held the book in one hand and pulled several strands of her hair back from her face. "When that mine eye is famish'd for a look," he looked at her out of the corner of his eye as her hand gripped his shirt lazily. "Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother, With my love's picture then my eye doth feast," he could feel his body growing heavy, sleep began to take over slightly and he yawned. "And to the painted banquet bids my heart; Another time mine eye is my heart's guest."

"Are you falling asleep, Xerxes?" She asked as her breath washed over his neck. He felt his heart stop again, she was most lovely when she was like this, natural and open. "Your heart skipped a beat," she muttered, lifting her head slightly as he brushed her hair back from her face again.

"And in his thoughts of love doth share a part:" the book hit the floor as he caught her face in his hands and caught her lips with his. Time seemed to stop for her, the rain was gone, the fire had died, the lamp was out. The only thing that mattered was the feeling rushing through her veins and her heart pounding in her chest.

She lifted her hands curiously as he released her lips, for only a second, before she leaned up, returning it. Her delicate fingers brushed his skin, sliding behind his neck and into the silky soft hair on his head.

So, either by thy picture or my love,

Thyself away art present still with me;

He pulled away, regaining his senses, "L-Lady Shalon I—I am out of l--" he broke off when he saw the look on her face, the delicate flush that had risen in her cheeks and along her collarbone and neck.

For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,

"I've never felt like this before," she placed her hand against his chest. "Xerxes… is this lo--" he placed a finger to her lips, shaking his head.

"No, I promise you… no one would fall for me," her eyes searched his.

And I am still with them and they with thee;

"I don't care what you think, you know that right?" He chuckled as she spoke.

"Yes I do know that." He nodded. "You'll do whatever you want won't you?" His eye darkened as her lips neared his again.

Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight

She placed a hand against the side of his face, kissing him. It was the shy lamb kiss of someone as innocent as she, the kiss of someone testing the waters. He never could have chosen a better time for her to try her wings. He wrapped his arms around her.

Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight.