Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Change Of Heart ❯ Heart Versus Mind ( Chapter 19 )

Pan heard Trunks' footsteps come onto the terrace, and she took in a deep breath, calming her nerves, and held back the urge to clear her throat from the lump that still remained ever present.

"Hey, I've been looking for you everywhere." She could hear in his voice that he had a smile on his lips, and she turned around.

"Sorry I couldn't meet you," She smiled. "but I was held up. Do you hate me?" She gave a cute smile reminiscent of her Son heritage, showing huge white teeth.

"Of course not." He stepped walked the rest of the way to her, hands in his pockets, and looked up at the sky. "It's some night, eh?" She nodded, solemn and reserved.

"Trunks?" He turned to look at her, and she found it hard not to just simply stare back at his face. She could see him as a Prince. A rogue warrior traveling the planets and conquering. Yes, she could, but she couldn't picture him cruel. A scoundrel, yes, but cruel and merciless never. But she had never thought he could have done something like what he had done, and yet it had happened.

"I was wondering," She continued timidly. "would you mind if I went home?"

"Are you all right?" He asked, stepping closer. "Are you feeling ok?" He took her hand loosely in his. She nodded.

"I'm fine, I'd just like to go home if that's ok." He put an arm around her shoulder, and she fought back a twirl of butterflies.

"Ok, all right. I'll take you home." She looked at him quickly and stopped walking.

"Oh, I don't want to make you leave your party. You'll miss it all. Oh, please, I can get home. I'll call a taxi or get a ride or something. Please don't make me have you leave." He shook his head and gave her one of his famous smirks.

"No, I want to take you home. That way your parents won't have to worry, and I get to leave this place." He laughed, and she caught herself smiling. "Really, Pan, I want to take you." He said, opening the door to the ballroom for her. She sighed and let him lead her indoors; knowing that she couldn't convince him otherwise.

Trunks said customary goodbye's and thank you's to people he passed, putting on the smile that was expected of him.

Trunks waved to his left, and Pan looked. Conner was waving back, and Pan-fully aware that Trunks had her hand in his, leading her through the crowd-fought the desire to run from the room and fling herself on the floor in a dark corner somewhere.

Her Saiyan pride remained though, and she continued to smile at the passersby. Finally they were clear of eyes she didn't know, and Trunks was walking her to his car.

Vegeta's higher-than-thou eyebrow arched as his eye followed Pan and his son out the door. Bulma was talking at a rapid pace beside him, but it was all a blur, much as his closer surroundings were. Bulma babbled on, talking through a haze of compliments, meaningless sentences, and the usual when talking to a client at a party. Or, he assumed, this person also by his side had something to do with Capsule Corporations.

"Vegeta?" He felt a hand on his arm, and he turned his head to the blue-haired woman who had strangely enough captured the Saiyan prince's heart. She was looking at him expectantly, and he smiled, taking the woman's hand that Bulma had been talking to. "My husband, Vegeta, Miss Summers." Vegeta smiled although he yearned to be elsewhere. That woman babbled on, and his smile became fixed.

He knew decorum, propriety, and how to act in formal situations well enough, but it had never been his forte-or responsibility-on his home planet. He had been taught how to be regal and stately in every situation, he was the prince of a respected planet, but growing up there were other things more important for him to excel at. It would not be his responsibility to meet with ambassadors, leaders of neighboring planets, dignitaries, until later in his life.

Of course, that later never came.

The woman touched his arm and his fixed smile waned. She continued to babble on, and her several extra chins jiggled with each word.

"Oh, what a wonderful party!" She exclaimed. "And I don't want to keep you from all your guests, Bulma." She gave a hearty-and portly-smile. She put emphasis on Vegeta's arm and looked at him. "It was a delight to meet you, and am so glad I could have the opportunity." Vegeta glanced down at his arm with his fixed smile, fighting the temptation to bat the woman's hand away. She looked at Bulma again. "Thank you again!" And with that she left in a great sweeping motion.

Bulma grabbed Vegeta's arm and leant into it. He smirked to himself, and Bulma let out an exasperated sigh.

"If she had made another word I would have been near the brink of suicide." He chuckled, and she poked him. "I'm serious, that woman has nothing of importance to say, and she gobbles down the caviar as if it grew on trees. Honestly, I thought I'd wilt every time she started a new topic of conversation."

"You handled it well." Vegeta started, following her to a couple of chairs off to the side. She sat down and pulled one leg over and on top of the other, massaging her ankle. She blew hair out of her eyes and gave an irritated expression. He laughed and sat down next to her.

Bura stood at the refreshment table, a piled high plate in her hand, munching happily, clearly enjoying herself. She guzzled down some punch and started on another plate of interesting delights.

Marron talked for a long time, telling Goten endlessly about her dreams, her thoughts, her opinions. She had never talked so freely to anyone before, and he listened, enjoying every moment of it. She told him of everything she had ever wanted to voice before. Of how she felt so idle, doing what she did day after day. Of how she felt there was something out there larger that she needed to begin. A journey waiting for her to take wind with. Of how she felt there was more to her than anyone-even she-realized, and she just needed to unlock it from inside her.

Taking another drink from her glass of water, she continued on, and he listened as if it were the first words she had spoken this evening, even though it was far past that.

The ride from the hotel to the Son house was a quiet one. The radio hummed in the background, but few words were exchanged between the driver and the passenger. Trunks seemed not to notice, or at least it didn't worry him. He guessed that-as she had said-Pan wasn't feeling well, and conversation fell into the "work" category.

When they finally did pull into the driveway, Pan gathered her things in her hands as the car came to a stop. She opened the door herself, and winced out of his view when he got out of the car also. Slowing her pace-knowing he was coming in-they fell into step together. Taking a key out of her-Bulma's-purse, she slid it into the lock and opened the front door. The living room spilt into view and she clicked a light on.

She noticed that he slid his hands in his pockets, and she wordlessly walked towards the couch and sunk into its comfortable depths.

"Pan, is there anything I can get you?" The perfect actor to the end, she thought. He was standing there, waiting for an answer. She had no choice but utter words when they threatened to shake with the emotion that pulsed through her heart and veins.

"No. Thank you though." She gave a sad excuse for a smile, and he sat down next to her, brushing the tips of his fingers over her temple and down her cheek.

She looked into the eyes that held concern as they examined her face, and had she not heard the words spoken about the bet, she would have sworn on her life that the concern he now played out was genuine, that he did really care as deeply for her as he had said.

"What's wrong, Pan?" She fought the urge that tugged mercilessly at her to tell him everything. Tell him about everything that she had heard and how helpless and hopeless it had made her feel. She fought it tooth and nail, and told herself how much the fool she would feel if she told him how it had hurt her. She looked away from his eyes that pulled her in and touched her fingers to her forehead.

"Oh, I'm just not feeling myself." She looked at him. "I'm not feeling well." She swore she saw Vegeta's intuitiveness flash across his eyes, but he merely nodded.

"Are you sure there isn't anything I can do?" He asked, and she gave a genuine, appreciative smile, although shaking her head. "Thank you." She said after a moment, and he gave her a pleasant smile. "But you shouldn't have left your party. I was wrong to have let you."

"I couldn't have been able to keep my mind on anything if I hadn't been sure you had been taken care of."

He leant to give her a kiss, and she was caught between her heart and her mind. Her mind had always done her better, but her heart soared when his lips touched hers. Her fingers met behind his neck and they brushed the silkiest hair she had ever felt. Unlike her own mass of thick and stubborn locks, his hair was as smooth and light as the waves of the seas.

Her heart and her mind dealt blows inside her head; both wanting to win the fight, but neither had the chance. He pulled away leaving Pan breathless and pleasantly lightheaded. Her hands slid down to his chest and she looked at him, feeling like a silly young girl swept off her feet by a celebrity crush, at a loss for what to say.

She furrowed her brows and looked down, holding an expression like someone realizing they had done something wrong. He tipped her head up with a folded finger, and met her black-as-night eyes with his contrasting light ones.

He took the pin that held her hair up and slid it out of place. Her black hair fell down in soft curls, cascading down her shoulders. He brushed his fingers through her hair, soaking in every thought of her, every feeling he'd felt for her since all of this had happened. From dancing with her in the middle of the ocean to the fear and concern he'd felt for her when his car had wrecked. No words could describe any of it, but he had to tell her, let her know somehow…

"Pan, I-"

"You don't have to act the part anymore, Trunks." She interrupted, and he looked at her in confusion. "You won your money," She said, standing up from the couch. "now go spend it on the pretty girls that you do fall for." He looked at her, baffled. She had said it all quietly, sadly. As if dispirited by what she was saying.

"Wha-"

"I said, you've won your bet!" Tears threatened to spill at her eyes, glossy and hazy. Her view was blurring, and she blinked a couple times. She dropped her voice and looked at the ground thoughtfully, then up at him.

"I hope I was pretty enough for you tonight." She said with dignity. Tears streamed steadily down her cheeks silently, and she escaped from the room before he could say or do anything. She ran up the stairs to her room and flung herself on the bed, sobbing uncontrollably.

She thought she had gotten all her tears out at the party, but she must have been wrong.