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Something of You
Rousing awake slowly, Rean smiled at the familiar sight of soft snow drifting past the window. It was a familiar, comforting picture from his youth, and one that told him that he was back home in Ymir.
Shifting slightly, Rean frowned as he discovered that the space next to him was empty. He was initially disappointed, but eyeing the clock on the bedside table told him that he ought to be vacating the bed himself soon.
All too reluctantly, Rean removed himself from the sheets with a sigh and began to make himself ready for his journey down to Trista and the Academy there.
Though Rean had left the teaching profession for a Bracer’s life, he still made sure to give some of his time to the future generations every now and then. He was occasionally invited to give guest lectures at Thors Academy, both in Trista and at the branch campus too. New heroes would always be needed after all, and if the experiences and trials he had gone through could help foster such talent into the future even in just a small way, then Rean was more than happy to play his part.
In many ways, he was simply striving to keep true to the old mantra: ‘Arise, O youth, and become the foundation of the world’.
Donning his underwear and trousers, Rean frowned again at discovering the shirt he had laid out the previous night was missing. Unless he had forgotten to lay it out or had misplaced it somehow? No, that didn’t seem right. Everything else was there, and he was certain that he wouldn’t have missed such a thing.
Brow furrowed with the hint of a suspicion, he padded out of the room with and went to go investigate downstairs.
The house was unusually quiet on a morning, even for the Schwarzers, who had never been a particularly loud and boisterous family. Then Rean belatedly remembered; his parents and sister were in Ordis for the week, leaving Rean as the sole Schwarzer in Ymir. Although he too would soon be leaving town, once he had found his missing shirt of course.
Arriving in the living room, he was greeted by a most welcome sight: Sara Valestein, the sole other inhabitant of the house and Rean’s lover and partner in all things. The mere sight of her always brought a smile to his lips, whether it was her distinctive cerise hair, or that delightfully cheeky smirk she always wore or something else entirely. Sara was sat there, reclined on one of the settees, a book in one hand and a mug of steaming coffee in the other. She looked quite happy and content. As well she might do, for she was wearing Rean’s shirt, the one he’d known he’d laid out specifically to wear that morning.
He immediately prepared himself for quite the battle.
“Sara …” Rean began in a murmur as he entered the room proper.
His girlfriend merely looked up at him with a pretty smile and a flutter of her eyelashes. “Yes Rean?” She asked innocently.
“You know that’s my shirt you’re wearing, right?”
“Is it?” Sara looked down on said shirt with an expression of such surprise. “Why, I think you’re right, dear.”
“Can I have it back please?” Rean resisted the urge to hold his hand out expectantly, which was a sure-fire way to ensure he never saw his shirt again. “I need to be at the station in half an hour.”
“Rean!” Sara put her book to her chest in a display of pure shock and horror. “You wouldn’t steal away a lady’s only shirt now would you? Do you expect me to walk around naked all day?”
“No, of course I don’t.” Rean narrowed his gaze suspiciously. “What happened to your own clothes?”
“Well, they were much too dirty to wear again today, not after what a certain someone did to me last night.” Sara smirked evilly.
Rean coughed, cheeks blushing even as a silly smile threatened to break free.
“So, I put them in the wash. I didn’t have anything else to wear so I took this rather fine shirt that I found lying around.”
Rean’s eye twitched. “Sara, you know I put that shirt out last night to wear today. And if you didn’t have anything else to wear, why did you put your own clothes in the wash?”
“Because they were dirty? Keep up, Rean.” Sara shook her head at his foolishness, before returning her attention to the book. “I’m not walking around in clothes that you’ve defiled.”
Rean didn’t even try to refrain from rolling his eyes. “That’s a little rich, don’t you think? You were the one who wanted to get defiled last night.”
“Well, you should have resisted my advances better then.” Sara huffed. “So it’s all your own fault really.”
Rean half snorted, half laughed. He shook his head when Sara didn’t so much as react to his outrage beyond turning another page in her book. He loved his girlfriend and former Instructor very much, but damn it if she couldn’t be the most infuriating person in all Zemuria at times. So, he leant down to his knees and whispered close to her ear.
“Sara …” Rean murmured low and not quite seductive.
“Yes Rean?” Sara smiled back, the very picture of innocence.
“I want you out of my shirt, now.” He put so much emphasis on the last word.
“Oh? So eager for some more ‘hanky-panky’ already?” Sara flashed him a smirk. She pointedly looked up at the clock on the wall across the room. “And it’s not even eight o’clock in the morning.”
Not that far off, Rean thought a little anxiously as he eyed the clock hands himself. A little more of this and he’d surely miss his train!
“My, my, my, Rean, I really don’t know where you get your libido from.” Sara mused. “Is your dad like this with your mother too?”
Rean ignored the comment and quickly refocussed to avoid the risk of any scarring images creeping into his mind’s eye.
“Do you want me to rip you out of it?”
Sara was unperturbed as she turned a toothy smile his way. “Try it. You won’t want to rip the buttons off.”
Rean growled a little as he narrowed his eyes further. He could feel the urge to grab the lapels and pull anyway rising, but they both knew that she was right.
He also knew that this whole farce was completely pointless. Either he could just go to his wardrobe and pick out any one of his other shirts – for he had plenty to choose from – or Sara could do likewise and just claim something else of his to relax in. There was no real need for this impasse. Yet he’d planned out his outfit very deliberately the previous night, keen to make the very best impression for his students. Sara knew this, and Sara also loved to press all the buttons in existence, particularly Rean’s. It was a common enough contest between the two of them, one that Rean was determined to win for once.
There had to be a first time for everything, surely?
Sighing slightly, as he pondered how to launch a counter attack, Rean ran his gaze down his shirt, idly noting how long it was on her.
“You know, I don’t think it really suits you anyway.” Rean murmured thoughtfully, trying a different track.
He was lying of course, she looked amazing in everything. She could probably wear a bin bag and make it look sexy somehow.
“Hmm? What makes you say that?” Sara asked idly, casually flipping over another page of her book.
“I mean, it does look awfully big on you, like it doesn’t fit at all.” Rean put a hand to his chin and tapped his cheek in deep thought. “Makes you look, I don’t know, a bit dishevelled maybe?”
Sara slowly lifted her eyes from the book once more and turned a thinly veiled smile his way. She snorted. “Really Rean? Is that the best you can come up with? Surely you can do better than that.”
“I’m just saying, you don’t want to look all, I don’t know, frumpy or something like that, do you?” Rean smiled innocently.
“Frumpy?” Sara levelled a look that was simultaneously incredulous and dangerous at him. “You think I look frumpy?”
“I’m just saying; surely you don’t want to look that way.” Rean persisted. He knew he was playing with fire, but the die was cast and he was determined to see it through.
Sara glared at him for a long, long moment.
Rean smiled innocently back. He tried to ignore that bead of sweat that slowly slid down his spine.
With a sigh, Sara finally leaned over to put her book and mug down on the coffee table before her. She stood and wandered over towards the mirror in the corner of the room while Rean followed at a somewhat safe distance.
“Well, it is a bit big on me, I suppose.” Sara murmured as she considered her reflection from various angles.
Rean licked his lips a little and drew upon all his courage. “You wouldn’t want to go around in something as baggy and ill-fitting as that, do you?”
Sara deliberated through the looking glass for another long moment, turning this way and that to help her decide.
“Hmm, I suppose not. Although …” She murmured as she turned back to face Rean, a most mischievous smirk affixed to her features. “I suppose I’d look a bit better like this …”
With that, Sara reached behind her back with one hand and pulled the stolen shirt tight. Rean couldn’t help but blink as the fabric instantly drew flush with her body, outlining all her delicious curves and in wonderful definition. Where only a moment ago it was formless and baggy, the fabric was now expertly cast in the delightfully voluptuous shape of her body. It was also very much apparent that Rean’s shirt was the one and only thing standing above Sara’s skin, and it was not a very thick shirt at that.
“Well, what do you think Rean?” Sara asked with a devious smirk as she sauntered back towards him, keeping her eyes fixed on his as well as the shirt taut on her body. “Do you think this looks better?”
Rean gulped, unable to keep his eyes from roving. “Yes.”
“You do?” Sara smiled wide. “You don’t think I look frumpy, do you?”
“Not at all.” Rean shook his head quickly.
“Well, that’s good to hear.” Sara smirked in something akin to triumph. “Perhaps I’ll go out like this then.”
“No!” Rean blurted out, immediately jumping between Sara and the door and throwing his arms across her path to prevent her from going anywhere.
Sara blinked in a good approximation of surprise. “No? Why ever not, dear?”
“You- You can’t- I can’t let people see you like that!”
“My, my, telling a woman what to do?” Sara tutted with a shake of her head. “That’s pretty poor form you know, Rean.”
“You know what I mean. You’re practically naked!”
“Nonsense, I’ve got a shirt on and everything.”
The thin shirt was the only thing she had on. Even Sara had to know that going out into the cold Ymir air with nothing else on was just tempting hypothermia.
“Sara, you know exactly what I mean.” Rean moaned, putting hand to face in frustration. He glanced at the clock once more. “Come on. I really don’t have time for this.”
“Well, that’s a pity. I guess you’d better pick a new shirt and get a move on then.” Sara smiled sweetly.
“Oh come on!” Rean moaned, exasperated. “Sara, you know I normally love these sorts of games, but right now I really don’t have the time! You know I picked out that outfit especially for today, and if I miss that train for Trista, then I’ll be letting all my students down.”
“Rean, honey, I really don’t think a bunch of teenagers are going to give the slightest damn what shirt you wear to lecture them with.” Sara smirked.
“Sara …” Rean growled.
“I mean, the guys will all be like ‘wow, it’s the Ashen Chevalier, how cool!’ and the girls will probably be too busy imaging how they’d like you to bang their brains out.”
“Aidios’ sake, Sara!” Rean hissed as he rubbed at his eyes.
Sara merely chuckled at his plight. Then she chewed on her seemed to consider for a moment.
“You know, this is my favourite shirt of yours.” Sara murmured, pacing closer to Rean. “Not because of its style or anything, but because it still smells a little like you, even after washing.”
Rean’s glare faltered a little. “You do?”
“Hmm-hmm.” Sara nodded. She picked the collar up to her face and inhaled deeply with a smile. “It makes me feel safe, loved even. I know it’s probably a little crazy, but I know you’re going away for a little while, so … I don’t know, I just wanted a little something of you to stay with me. Is that so bad?”
Well, how could Rean stay mad at her after that?
“I …” Rean tried to hold onto the spluttering embers of his urge to fight, he really did. “I’ll go get another shirt.” He relinquished finally.
“Ok!” Sara smiled, full-bodied and fully aware of her latest victory.
xxx
Once clad in a new shirt, Rean wolfed down a quick breakfast before making for the door and the station beyond. Sara threw a coat and some pants and shoes on to join him on the short trip through the snowy streets to see him off.
“I’m sorry about stealing your shirt.” Sara chuckled softly as they reached the platform, clearly not at all sorry.
“Uh huh.” Rean drawled. At least he wasn’t going to miss his train. And there was always the next time to win one for once.
“Hey, don’t get all down in the dumps now.” Sara smiled at him. She leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek and stayed close to whisper. “I’ll be sure to make it up to you once you get back.”
That was always something about losing to Sara that Rean could never be mad about; the consolation prize was always worthwhile.
“You’d better.” Rean smirked a little. “Shame it has to wait till I get back.”
“Well, I was thinking about that actually …” Sara began with a flash of something mischievous in her eyes.
“Oh?” Rean raised an eyebrow.
Sara glanced about the platform for a second before reaching into her coat’s pocket and retrieving something.
“Here.” Sara handed Rean a small case and something of a bashful smile. It looked like a cigarette case, elegantly simple silver bound with a fine clasp.
“Oh, thank you?” Rean blinked in surprise as he accepted the gift. He didn’t smoke at all and neither did she.
“It’s … It’s just a little something to keep you company.” Sara’s cheeks seemed to be a little rosier than usual, which must have just been the cold. “But don’t open it yet!” Sara scowled before Rean’s hand could even inch towards the clasp.
“I won’t! I won’t!” Rean smiled a little warily.
Sara rubbed at her eyes with something like a grimace. “Sorry I just- I only want you to open it when you’re all alone and, well, feeling alone. You hear me?”
Rean smiled warmly and pocketed the gift. “Of course, I’ll do just that.”
“And don’t lose it!” Sara warned with a raised finger.
“I won’t.” Rean held his hands up in surrender.
“You better not.” Sara sighed before drawing him into a hug. “I’m going to miss you, come back to me soon, ok?”
“I will, I’ll be back before you know it.” Rean couldn’t stop himself clinging to her tightly, as if trying to memorise how it felt to hold her.
“I’ll hold you to that.” Sara murmured, leaning back a little to press a kiss to his cheek.
Then the train was pulling into the station. The smattering of inbound passengers filed off before Rean and the few others boarded to head on South. Finding himself a window seat, Rean waved and smiled warmly at Sara as the train slowly set off once more. Sara waved back and blew him a salacious kiss through the window.
Once the train had pulled clear of the station and Sara was well out of sight, Rean couldn’t hold back his curiosity any longer. He fished into his jacket pocket and pulled out the mysterious little case he’d been gifted. He eased the clasp open with a quiet click and opened it up.
Rean’s eyes widened to their fullest extent at the contents.
It was Sara, as in, photographs of Sara. Though they weren’t just any photographs it seemed. The one on top of the pile showed Sara lounging back on plush bedsheets, her arms artfully thrown back above her head, eyes hooded in a seductive lust, her perfect body clad in what was surely the empire’s thinnest negligee.
Rean swallowed thickly and flicked through the images carefully. There were just too many to take in all at once.
One of them showed Sara in a slinky bathing costume, lounging artfully on an isolated beach somewhere. Another showed her draped back over an orbal bike in nothing but lacy panties and a leather jacket that barely covered her chest. A third had her completely naked kneeling on the bed they shared, her back to the camera, angled to tease the most without revealing all. One even had her in a schoolgirl’s outfit – it was suspiciously close to the style worn at Thors, though Sara’s version was so much more revealing – her expression one of demure beauty as she peered into the camera doe eyed, as though waiting for a command from her Instructor.
There were so many more, each a different style and theme, yet all had his beautiful Sara front and centre.
“Oh, excuse me, sir?”
The sudden voice had Rean’s head shoot up in alarm. He shut the case of his lover’s pornography fast with a loud clack.
The voice appeared to belong to a well-dressed and even better moustachioed gentleman as he stood by Rean’s seat in the carriage. “Might I trouble you for a cigarette?” The man asked.
“Oh.” Rean blinked. He glanced down at the not-cigarette case. He swallowed thickly with a weak smile. “I’m sorry, I- I’m fresh out I’m afraid.”
“Oh, a pity.” The man drawled and turned away, disappointed, or perhaps just not believing Rean and thinking him a miser.
Rean sighed in relief and tried to quickly yet surreptitiously peer about. No one else in the carriage seemed to be paying him any attention.
Pocketing the case once more, Rean took to gazing out at the passing mountainside. He didn’t really see the picturesque scenes of his homeland however, his mind preferred to recall the scenes contained within his jacket pocket and play out little scenes for each one.
He was almost looking forward to the solitude, to give the collection the fullness of his attention that it deserved, though not half as much as he was eager to see the model in person once more.