#cloud day

Chapter 3: The Cursed Love

It wasn’t, Bianchi thinks later, when her mind is clearer, that she did not want Chrome to take her hand. She had desperately wanted to take her hand, to feel what it would be like to squeeze it, or to simply take it, softly hand in hand, skin to skin.

Somehow, the thought of it makes her ears and cheeks go red and warm. She doesn’t really know how to interpret that. Her entire relationship with Chrome is already complicated enough without the warm feelings in her belly interrupting, let alone the butterflies whenever she thinks of the lovely woman, vampire or no.

It's why she’s staying, now, even when she doesn’t have to anymore. The geas is gone, and it confuses her so much, because if geas wasn’t what was holding her here anymore, then what was? It’s clear as the sun breaking through the clouds. It’s Chrome. Chrome, all by herself.

Bianchi likes Chrome. She really does. She likes their little games of property destruction that are actually just them training side by side in inappropriate places. She likes the way a drop of wine so often clings to the corner of her mouth at dinner. It makes Bianchi want to go up to her and lick it off her face. She likes the way her eyes follow birds like she’s hunting prey. She likes shooting at them with her.

She’d just wish she’d be able to reconcile the hunt of birds of prey with the way Chrome’s obviously hunted humans before too. But that’s the thing too- before. Bianchi’s not sure if the preying on humans is actually a thing of the past, but she hasn’t seen Chrome do anything of the sort in the past few months she’s lived with her, and she doesn’t quite know what to do with that. Does she not hunt humans anymore? And is there even a way to ask Chrome that without immediately ruining Bianchi’s romantic prospects with her?

It makes Bianchi laugh at herself, high and mean. Romantic prospects? Who is she kidding? She knows she hurt Chrome a lot, that night when she told Bianchi about her past. Bianchi would be lucky if she’d be able to salvage their friendship at this point.

As much as she’d like to say the opposite, while Bianchi likes Chrome, she’s not sure she likes her monstrous nature. And that isn’t fair to Chrome, not fair at all, because it’s simply who Chrome is. That’s not something you ought to judge a person for, except what Chrome is eats humans and Bianchi… Bianchi is frustrated and angry and a little sad to because she just doesn’t get what she’s feeling right now.

It helps, that Hayato writes to her. Every week, a hawk arrives at her window. She reads his letters  dutifully, like an older sister ought to, and writes back. He writes of his friends, all vividly described long before it comes out just what they are. Yamamoto, she already knew of. The witch, who enchants right and left. Hibari, the taciturn vampire who protects his little town with fevour. Tsunayoshi, who Hayato is so, so weak for. Bianchi startles when she finds out he’s a goddamn mountain lion shifter. Ryohei, loud, so loud, his caterwauling often described before she is told he is a siren, though one that’s rather bad at his job. Mukuro, who Hayato dislikes, but can’t help but respect, a mage that has mastered the art of the illusion.

His tales soften her heart towards them, make her life vicariously through him. Her life isn’t bad. Far from it, even. She enjoyed her peaceful days here, together with Chrome before Bianchi let her down, but sometimes she did wish for a little more excitement.

It doesn’t matter, she tells herself. It doesn’t matter, because she’s alright here with the stupid mess she made of her own feelings, and Hayato is free and happy. She might not trust all monsters, but she has accepted that not all of them are bad, and if his friends are as good and true to him as Hayato describes them, then surely he is well protected. He’s fifteen, by now. She has missed his birthday. He’s an adult now and he has the right to roam wherever he wishes.

She misses him, though. She misses him terribly.

Thankfully, Chrome is very good at distracting her. There’s been a wall between them since the incident, but when Bianchi pulls her to the kitchen one evening before dinner, Chrome doesn’t protest. Bianchi starts handing her ingredients to chop before she gets the fire going. There are no words between them, not about why Bianchi’s still there, despite the geas being gone, nor why she’s doing this.

Bianchi doesn’t explain.

Chrome doesn’t ask.

The cold regality in both her demeanour and posture reminds Bianchi of Chrome’s past as princess. That hurts. But it shouldn’t. It really, really shouldn’t.

Chrome is a person so lonely that she placed a geas on the entrance of her castle, as if catching herself a companion with a geas was the best option she had. It worked, of course, but that’s another issue all together.

When they bring their dinner to the table, it’s been perfectly set by the shadows already. Bianchi pets them when they leave them be, her quiet love for Chrome’s strange servants warming her inside out and lending her courage.

Eating the food they’ve made together, Bianchi’s dawdled enough. She needs to put her big girl panties on and talk to Chrome.

After dinner, for the first time that week, she takes Chrome by the hand and leads her to the huge stuffed chairs in front of the hearth. ‘’Get us some wine, please,’’ she asks the shadows. They comply immediately, getting the hint.

Chrome is looking at her. Her eyes are no longer wary, like they were before, but they’re… Soft, almost mellow in the low light. Possibly because she knows Bianchi is still here even though she doesn’t have to be. Because that means something, even if Bianchi has a hard time saying it.

She swallows as she receives the wine glass from the shadows, Chrome getting one as well and the bottle being deposited on the table. Bianchi clears her throat. Chrome watches her calmly, which isn’t good for Bianchi’s nerves at all. ‘’So,’’ she starts, ‘’I know I’m not the best at being… emotionally available at times.’’

Chrome snorts.

‘’Ouch. But I can’t deny I deserve it after our last talk about feelings and our pasts. You told me about your issues and I reacted badly. I’m sorry about that.’’

Chrome doesn’t make any excuses for Bianchi, and Bianchi loves her more for it. She doesn’t need others to excuse her actions. She needs to learn from them.

‘’Go on,’’ Chrome says, ‘’I suppose you’re going somewhere with this?’’

Bianchi nods. ‘’You told me about your issues, now I’m going to tell you about mine.’’

Chrome takes a sip of her wine and peers at Bianchi over her wine glass. Bianchi takes that for a go ahead.

‘’So the first thing you’ve got to know is that I became a hunter because I’ve dealt with monsters before. That includes the monster that killed my family, but also the human monster that was my family.’’ Oh god, this is hard to talk about. But she has to, if she wants Chrome to understand.

‘’When I was seventeen, I found my mother floating in our well the night after a were attacked our village. He’d killed countless amongst our neighbours. My mother most likely just searched for a place to hide as the were went to town on them. She drowned after not being able to swim more after hours and hours of hearing the onslaught above her go on.’’ Her chest hurts and her voice is thick, but she soldiers on. Chrome reaches for her hand and Bianchi squeezes it, thankful for the warmth the skin-to-skin contact brings her.

‘’Here’s the thing: I hate my mother. Hayato’s my half-brother, you know. She hated him. And I can’t understand how anyone could want to hurt Hayato, let alone kill him, drown him in that very same goddamned well. I wondered whether it was karma when I discovered her corpse in it. I remember that so clearly. So vividly. It was bloated, her body. So bloated, as she was floating on top of the water.’’ She stares into the fire, the only thing grounding her the pressure of Chrome’s hand in hers.

‘’I hate the woman who did that to Hayato. I do. But I also love the person who sang me the very same lullabies I sang for Hayato later, who tucked me into bed, who rocked me through my every nightmare. The woman who kept my milk teeth in a box because every part of me was precious to her. I love the person I remember her being before Hayato.

But then again, I loved Lavina, Hayato’s mother, too. Thinking of her is painful. I was too young at the time to really understand what was happening, but I remember the look of betrayal on mt mother’s face the day my father came home with a bastard and the news that my baby sitter- Hayato’s mother- had died.

Sometimes I wonder, you know,’’ Bianchi stares into her wine glass before taking a gulp. ‘’Sometimes I wonder if Hayato’s conception was even something Lavina consented to. I mean, I’m not a nine year old snot anymore. I’m older, hopefully a little wiser and definitely a whole lot more jaded. Lavina became a bit of a social outcast among the adults when she got pregnant. Nobody knew who the father was. There used to be lots of children at her house during the day when their parents worked, but there were a lot less after that. She never really seemed like the kind of person who would sleep with a married man to me. At least not if she knew he was married- and Lavina knew, without a doubt, as the one who minded me.

The last memory I have of her is actually of the very same day Hayato was born and she died. I and the other children had no concept of the scandal she was, seeing our age, so we loved listening to her stomach, pressing our ears against it trying to hear the child’s heartbeat. We loved touching her stomach too, if she let us, trying to feel the kick of the baby’s little feet. Of Hayato’s little feet.’’ She gulps down the rest of her wine, before turning her head and looking straight into Chrome’s eyes, watching the strange shadows the flames in the hearth cast upon her face and her curious purple eyes.

‘’Chrome, I loved my little brother before I even knew he was part of my family. But that was a weak love. But that day, seeing my awful father thrust my baby brother on my mother so callously, drove something home to her if no one else would love this little ugly creature that my mother hated so, then I would.’’

Bianchi is tearing up, the tears starting to roll down her face, but she can’t stop now. She has to ask, otherwise it will always remain in between them, an invisible wall of unasked questions and hurt that cannot be spoken of.  ‘’I can’t condemn you for your nature, but I also can’t let me tear myself apart further with not knowing. Please tell me: do you still hunt humans?’’

Chrome looks up. ‘’Not innocent ones.’’ And then, because Chrome is cruel, as much as she is beautiful, she says: ‘’You can’t say that about your hunting of my kind.’’

And that hurts, but Bianchi swallows the lump in her throat and says: ‘’Yeah. Yeah. That’s more than I can say.’’ Her voice cracks on the last word.

Then she cries into Chrome’s shoulders until she falls asleep, warm against her side. Chrome lets her, snot and tears be damned, handing her a handkerchief to clean herself up.

It feels like an absolution.

~~

She wakes up in a rather uncomfortable position, with her neck in a crick. She groans, massaging her neck as her eyes slowly blink open. Violet eyes are staring at her directly. She blinks again. No, Chrome’s still there, pressed up against her in the very same chair. They’re lucky the furniture was large enough to allow for it. Bianchi’s slid down to Chrome’s lap at some point, feet over the side of the chair, Chrome staring down at her. She has the most longing expression Bianchi’s ever seen on anyone’s face and her breath catches in her throat.

The small hitch in her breathing seems to shake Chrome out of her reverie. The expression leaves, once again gone behind her mask, but it doesn’t change that it had been there. Doesn’t change that Bianchi has seen.

With her heart beating in her throat, Bianchi reaches up, wraps her arms around Chrome’s neck and pulls her down to kiss her.

It is soft. It is warm. It is beautiful.

It’s all Bianchi ever needed

~~

The cooking together becomes a regular thing, but with a lot less coldness, more talking and a lot more kisses sneaked in between passing each other cooking utensils. There is laughter and love in the halls of Chrome’s dark castle, and even the bare stone doesn’t seem as cold as before. Bianchi catches Chrome humming a cheery tune in the hallways when she thinks no one is there, and the whole thing is so sweet she has to kiss her for it.

Bianchi has started growing flowers, both of the poisonous and the non-poisonous varieties, and they brighten up the gloom of the castle. Were the shadow’s whispers used to be haunting, they are now almost never found without their giggling. This is both wildly annoying and pretty endearing, the exact same category as Bianchi knows from experience little siblings fall into.

She’s thinking of inviting Hayato to the castle. She writes a letter, with a proper map and all to the castle, sending it his way. Do NOT enter through the main entry has been underlined twice, despite the fact she knows Chrome removed the geas sometime ago. There are undoubtedly still spells on it, though, so she doesn’t want to take the risk.

Another new addition to her and Chrome’s daily routine are the walks. The moonlit walks, where they leave the gate and roam the land. One of these days, Bianchi wants to take towels with them and go skinny dipping, though she hasn’t quite told Chrome that yet. Perhaps it will be a surprise.

How far can she tempt Chrome before Chrome devours her alive? A year ago she would not even have thought of such a thing, especially not in combination with a vampire. But Chrome is her vampire, and that makes her giddy and happy and oh-so reckless.

Just how reckless is clear when they are ready to depart on their walk for the night and the beating against the castle gate starts.

Bianchi startles. ‘’What- What’s going on?’’ But she hears the voices outside the gate and she knows. ‘’Oh my god, they’re here. My former colleagues- the hunters, they’re here. How?!’’

Chrome stares up at the gate. ‘’I smell the blood of your hawk.’’

Bianchi presses her hand against her mouth as if to keep herself from vomiting as her stomach begins to roil. ‘’Oh my god, I sent Hayato instructions as to how to get back here to visit. They shot Queen down and found the fucking map. This is my fault!’’

The banging upon the gate is like a heartbeat. It’s so consistent, the battering ram colliding with the wood and steel, the precision almost inhuman. It would make Bianchi laugh, if the fear didn’t close up her throat. She reaches down, taking Chrome’s hand, not taking her eyes off the courtyard before them. ‘’They won’t take you.’’ She says it with desperation colouring her words. ‘’They won’t take you, I won’t let them!’’

She promises it with all that she has in her. It has been so long since she’s felt actual happiness. Now she has it, she won’t let go of it so easily. She’ll fight to the death to defend it, to defend Chrome, if she must.

Chrome laughs and it startles Bianchi. She’s so much older in soul, and yet her body seemingly younger than Bianchi’s. Her gothic dress swishes around her feet, showing her pale, naked feet as she lets go of Bianchi’s hand and begins to circle her, as if taking her in.

Bianchi feels naked. She hasn’t worn her armour in almost a year now. It hadn’t exactly been meant for anything more than hunter raids, far too stiff for the necessities of daily life. It had to be, in order to be strong enough to defend against the monsters of the night. The dresses that Chrome had stored in the castle weren’t exactly the kind that could be worn to battle, but they’d been good enough for a quiet life here. Good enough for spars with Chrome and writing letters to her brother.

God, Hayato. What is she going to tell him if she dies here tonight? He won’t understand. He never did.

Or, perhaps, he is the only one who can understand. Nobody loves monsters as much as her brother, after all, and even if it landed her here, in this moment, she can’t resent him for it. She loves him. She loves him, just as she loves Chrome. Tears well up in her eyes. She hates herself a little for that. This is no time to cry. This is the time to fight.

Chrome quits circling around her, to stand on her tippy toes to reach up to her. ‘’The thing you keep forgetting, Bianchi,’’ Chrome breathes into her ear, a hand creeping up her sides, caressing her chest, ‘’Is that before there can be hunters, there must be prey.’’

And with the soul of a hunter far older than any kind of human hunter, she pounces as the gate breaks apart in pieces.

Their enemies never even make it past the threshold.

~~

There are, Bianchi muses later that evening, definitely perks to having a vampire girlfriend. One of them is her tearing apart your enemies, which is way too hot and probably also illegal because of the murder. Not like anyone’s going to be able to tell, though. The castle is hidden far too well for that.

Chrome returns to her, dripping in guts and all kind of gory bits, but Bianchi doesn’t mind. She leans down and kisses her, deeply and with tongue.

Chrome laughs when she lets go. ‘’What did I deserve that for?’’

‘’Being amazing!’’ Bianchi smiles back.

‘’We’ll need to get the location of the castle to your brother,’’ Chrome says, leaning her forehead against Bianchi’s. Bianchi sighs and leans into it, closing her eyes. ‘’After all, I can hardly marry you properly if I don’t even know your family.’’

Bianchi’s eyes fly open, meeting mischievous eyes. ‘’You!’’ she slaps her arm, but the pleasure in it is evident.

‘’This time,’’ Chrome states, ‘’We’re bringing him the letter ourselves, though.’’

Bianchi fully agrees with that.