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Vegeta didn't know what he was doing, but he knew that he had to. He'd waited too long, had tried to deny his feelings and pushed her away whenever he found her to have his heart in her grasp. They'd danced around each other for years and somehow he had been almost content with that.
Each time they had a heated argument, it would only a matter of minutes before it would lead to a wild and urgent coupling. They would fuck for days hereafter until one of them ran scared and then avoided the other for months. However, eventually, they always found their way back to one another and things would start over.
He could admit to himself that it really was him who ran from her whenever he struggled to control his feelings. She only fled when she'd had enough with the cold behavior he would suddenly try to put on to keep her at a distance.
It was inevitable that she eventually would choose to stay away from him for good. He knew how much it pained him when they parted after days of intense lovemaking and nights in each other’s arms; he couldn't imagine how it must have hurt her.
That's why she started rebuffing him a year ago, putting up walls to keep him out. He attempted to break through her newly erected walls by egging her on and making her angry, but she'd had years to plan for those walls and now he couldn't scale them no matter how hard he tried.
If he had dared to tell her how he felt, she probably would have let him in.
But he hadn't and his punishment had been to see her go on dates with other men. He'd done his best to shrug it off at first; none of those losers were good enough for her. However, one of them managed to keep her interest and, much to his dismay, it didn't take long for the other man to propose to her.
And she said yes.
For months after that, Vegeta had expected her to come to her senses. He would laugh when he saw her go off on the new guy, glee filling him when she raged so splendidly, and watched as the weakling lay flat down at her feet or ran away with his tail between his legs every time. That pathetic male wasn't strong enough to go toe to toe with her.
Yet, the wedding date came closer and closer without a sign of being canceled.
Vegeta would see the weak man come and go daily, doing all he could to convince himself that he wasn't jealous - that he didn't think about someone so undeserving touching her wondrous body he personally knew every inch of - but it stung so painfully in his chest that he at times struggled to breathe.
When the day of the wedding finally arrived, he knew that he had to act. If he didn't, he would surely die of the heartache of seeing her binding herself to another man when she in reality only belonged to him.
He entered her room through the window, well aware that the house was full of wedding planners and guests who might stop him from doing what he had to. It wasn't the first time he'd used the window as an entrance or even an exit, and she didn't seem at all surprised to see him. She didn't even turn away from the vanity where she was staring at her reflection, making sure that everything was perfect.
She was perfect. She always had been. Perhaps that was what had always scared him. Because Vegeta himself was anything but perfect.
“What do you want?” She said with a detached voice she'd improved over the last year. He heard it often, especially when he disappointed her. “You didn't RSVP to the wedding, but then again, you haven't dressed for it either. So I'm guessing you're not here as a guest.”
“You're right,” he answered coldly, a natural response to her tone. He shook his head, reminding himself just why he was here. It was paramount that he didn't screw this up. Yet, he found himself unable to stop. “I'm not going to watch you bind yourself permanently to someone as pathetic as the pushover downstairs.”
“I'm not binding myself to him permanently,” she was becoming irritated now, “a marriage can be dissolved if needed.” She turned on the stool, unafraid to face him. “And Yamcha may be a pushover, but at least he doesn't push me away at every turn. He's not a coward who's scared of his own feelings.”
“I AM NOT SCARE-” He stomped toward her, then stopped when he realized how easily he'd fallen into her trap. She laughed heartily at his outburst. Dammit, she never failed to humiliate and amuse him at the same time. No one else could survive treating him like that, but she was still very much alive and well.
He sighed, grabbing the nearest chair and sitting down dejectedly. If they both leaned forward, their hands would be able to touch, but she made no move to do so, even after he forced himself to do it in hope of touching her. He desperately wanted to touch her - it had been so long - despite not having done anything to deserve it. He was even less worthy than the man she was to marry.
“You know why I'm here,” he murmured as he stared intently at her.
“Do I?” She sounded aloof, but she didn't fool him; she just wanted to hear him say it. In spite of the many times he'd practiced the speech in his head, he found himself at a loss for words.
“I- We… it was…” None of it came out right. He growled at his inability to articulate what he felt. Only one thing was certain: “You can't marry him.”
“The hell I can't!” She rose to her feet and he automatically followed her, their equal height putting their eyes at the same level. Her gaze was filled with pure rage. “You have no say in what I can and cannot do! I've found someone who loves me and whom I actually love in return. Yamcha may not be the epitome of intoxicating masculinity and unbridled passion, but he has a good heart and doesn't hide the fact that he wants to be with me; he happily embraces it and announces it to the world.”
“So, that's what you want? A relationship for the public to show off how perfect your life is? I thought you wanted someone who cared about who you really are beneath the staged version of the famous Dr. Bulma Briefs.”
“And that someone is supposed to be you? Please. You have never shown an interest in me beyond my body.”
Her words struck him as though he'd been slapped. He rushed forward and grabbed her biceps tightly. “That's a lie and you know it.”
“I don't!” She twisted free of his grip. “Despite what you think, I don't really know anything but what little you have dared to show me.” She turned as she threw her hands into the air, gesturing wildly like she usually did when she was angry. “I've only seen glimpses of you, of what we could be together, but it's not enough. It's not something I can throw away everything for.”
He stepped up behind her, his front to her back, molding the length of his body to hers. His breath teased her neck as he leaned close to her and he felt her shiver. This he knew how to do. “And what we have? Is this something you can throw away?” His hands ghosted over the lacy sides of her ivory dress, just barely grazing it. “Don't tell me you haven't missed this. That you haven't felt an ache over the last year, keeping me from your body.”
“You said it yourself,” she breathed heavily, “The rest of me matters too. I'm more than this body and what you can do to it. You just don't want to deal with anything beyond physical intimacy.” Her hands briefly caressed his before she pushed them away from her curves. “I know it's all you can offer me. That's why I ended things for good.”
“What if… what if I could give you more?” His voice was hoarse; her rejection was affecting him more than he wanted to admit and he could feel tears pressing against his eyes.
“Then it's you who's a liar,” she said sadly, turning to face him once more. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she held them back like she had many times in the past. “No one changes overnight.”
“No, but I've had more than a year. I'm ready to commit to you.” He took her hands in his at last. Her touch warmed him.
“It's… dammit, Vegeta, I'm getting married in 40 minutes! You show up with pretty promises after all this time. But I see no change. You can't even say how you feel.”
He gritted his teeth, knowing that she was right. This was his only chance. Even if she rejected him, at least he had tried. He held her hands tightly, hoping to gain some of her strength, and looked down as he spilled out everything.
“Then I'll say it: I love you, Bulma. I always have. I've wanted you since the day I met you and loved you since the moment we first kissed. You remember it? I had been chewing your ear off and you finally had enough. You started shouting while advancing on me until you had me backed up against the wall. I was so startled that I grabbed you roughly. I wanted to intimidate you, but instead I felt the urge to caress you, kiss you. I was too slow though, but you - you went straight for my lips and took my breath away.
“The chemistry between us has always been incredible, but that isn't what keeps drawing me to you. It is you, your brilliant mind and your fiery spirit. You always keep me on my toes, refusing to back down whenever my temper gets the best of me. You don't try to placate anyone and you are always honest with me. And you make me laugh like no other.”
He saw the drop of tears fall on their joined hands and wondered if it could be hers, or if he was unable to hold his own back any longer. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, now whispering.
“You're everything I've ever wanted, woman. I cannot let you go, not without telling you. I know I don't have much to offer you, but I swear that I won't run ever again. I just can't imagine never getting to kiss you again, never holding you in my arms. I can’t lose you.”
He let out a small gasp when he felt her lips slate over his. It was only a fraction of a second, but it was enough to release his deep longing for a taste of her. He chased her mouth, pressing against her lips with hunger. She responded, tilting her head slightly to find the best angle. It felt so natural, so right. Their kiss was tender and slow, but nevertheless incredibly intense.
Her lips parted and he tentatively deepened the kiss, tasting the cavern of her mouth. He swallowed the small moan she emitted, enjoying the feel of her hands on his chest. Right until she suddenly pushed him away.
“Get going,” she said as she turned around to the mirror, adjusting her smudged lipstick. She looked beautiful, flustered and a bit unraveled.
But her words undid him. They felt like a knife in his chest, twisting and turning to gorge out his soul. It was too late for them. He had waited too long and now another man would possess the only thing Vegeta had ever wanted, all because he was such a broken, emotionally unavailable mess.
He had to get out of there before he had a breakdown right in front of her.
Halfway out the window, she yelled at him, “Where are you going, you idiot, wait for me! I can't get down by myself.” He froze on the spot, his jaw dropping.
“You're coming?”
“Of course I am.” She took out a pair of sewing scissors and cut a long slit on the side of the skirt of her dress to allow her more movement. Then she joined him on the window pane, poking him firmly right on his solar plexus. “But you better have a place where we can lay low for a while because I'm not ready to deal with the fallout of a blotched wedding right now.”
“I- I'll find somewhere quickly,” he stammered, taking her hand to keep her steady as she stepped out of her heels to climb out of the window and onto the ledge.
“One week. I'm giving you one week to prove yourself and if you screw it up, I swear to god, I'll say that you kidnapped me and you'll be behind bars for a long time. I'm not losing my reputation for your sorry ass.” Even on a ledge three stories up with only him to hold onto, she showed no fear.
He laughed, climbing out of the window as well. “That's more than fine. If I screw it up, I'll turn myself in.”
“As if! Haven't we already established you're a coward?” She winked at him and he smirked.
“Who wouldn't cower in your presence?”
“Damn right!” She laughed and his heart beat faster at the sight of her in the afternoon sun, high above ground, trusting him to keep her safe. He vowed to himself that he would dedicate the rest of his life to just that.
He clasped her hand in his and asked, “Ready to jump?”
She beamed at him, love and passion plain in her eyes. “Ready when you are, badman.”