[Fic] Mottled Ink 1/?

Oct 17, 2009 19:29

Fandom: D. Gray Man
Rating: T for now
Pairing(s): Lavi x Miranda, Kanda x Lavi, Klaud x Bridget Faye, Bridget x Komui, Cross x Klaud, Lenalee x Kanda, Lenalee x Allen, etc...
Author's Note: originally inspired by a request on the kink meme (that was Lavi x Miranda, with Caligraphy brushes and ink)--though this is not a request (per say). In fact, yes, see the 1/? in the subject? Yup that means this is a chaptered fic. With Miranda as a central character. Also note, most of the pairings in this will be one sided  at first, except the ones in bold (note: this does NOT mean they know they like each other). Whether or not they will remain onesided (or in bold), is up to me, obviously (also I might add in a pairing, or take one out. I don't know yet, seeing as this is the first chapter). So I'll see where the chapters take me. Was also debating on updating this on FF.net, or not. What do you think? (knowing me, though, I might end up waiting. Just because I have so much other stuff to do at the moment, and also it might not be very long chapter wise *or page wise* so...). Also first time doing Miranda as a central character...and...sometimes she makes me cringe (because she acts too much like me/how I used to act. and that's a bit hard to write ^^; ) err, but before I make this A/N impossibly longer, I'll move on to the warnings, and then onto the actual fanfic...

Warning(s): Lavi being a gentleman, Miranda stuttering, Miranda being pessimistic,  Miranda angsting over liking a younger guy, Bridget hating her job, Klaud hating her job, Bridget downing two glasses of wine, Klaud complaining about Cross, Bridget complaining about Komui, and a very creepy Bookman...oh and obviously: shounen-ai, shoujo-ai themes. (more of the latter than the former, or at least, if this is going where I think it's going)


She hadn’t realized when she became captivated by the man, but she had, somehow, in a strange sort of way. It wasn’t a fixation, no, she wouldn’t resort to ‘stalking’ him-heaven forbid! His Grandfather was far too protective over him for her to accomplish such a feat, if she could even make herself go through with it to begin with. No, it wasn’t anything as impure as that. It was simply an interest, when she saw the young man-just freshly turned eighteen-sitting, in a mess of too long limbs, in one of the comfy reading chairs at the local library.

Reading, of course, with a small stack of books next to him. They had always said he was an avid reader, but then she had assumed he always bought whatever books he read, and the fact that he graced his presence at such a place as a public library--

Miranda didn’t want to make any assumptions, but she could definitely feel her heart skip a beat, and suddenly the books she had so avidly been putting away didn’t matter so much anymore.

The small smile, the occasional soft chuckle, the way he brushed his bangs out of his eyes ever so often-suddenly that was the complete and sole focus of her world. She couldn’t help it, when she watched those hands-were those ink stains? Was he a writer too? Or perhaps an artist?-turn each page with care.

It was like a caress, almost, sending a shiver down her spine. No, it had nothing to do with how violently some people treated library books-and how often she had to call the Book Repair Man, to fix seams, or to buy those few books that were too mishandled to be used again.

It didn’t have to do with how careful he was, though she had to say she was impressed, showing such a…soft side for such a man, and at such a young age. Maybe if this had been any other time, or if she had been someone much more bold, she would have gone up and said hello. But it wasn’t like the man knew her, after all, she just happened to know his grandfather, nothing more.

Just the man of harsh words, piercing eyes, and the her hands that had always fumbled with the books he requested-from that part of the library. She wondered if the boy even knew his grandfather came here, or if that was a secret.

And maybe, just maybe, she had too much of a thing for mystery novels, when his eyes glanced up-well, eye, and she couldn’t help but wonder about that eye patch too-towards her. She fumbled momentarily, as always, feeling her cheeks flush a brilliant red-she was sure, with her complexion, she was probably glowing-and soon her hands were fumbling with the books on the cart, hastily grabbing random ones and stuffing them into the shelves.

It didn’t even matter if they were the wrong ones, though she was sure she would get yelled at for it later, and it didn’t even matter that she was handling her precious charges with such rough hands, just like all the others, it just…didn’t. She had to get out, she had to. Because he had seen her staring, and what could he possibly think?

No. No. Thinking that. He could have just looked up and thought she was giving him a passing glance. After all, he had been sitting there for a while, and normally no one really reads in the library, unless it’s for research and-oh she knew that was just an excuse! She knew it! Because he was coming over here now, if she glanced out of the corner of her eyes, and he was smiling in that sort of way he had when he had been reading and-oh she was probably going to get in trouble. She knew she was.

“Hi, hi~” Then he spoke, and the books in her hands fell messily to the floor, to the cart, making her jolt. Oh, no, no, no! He’d think her a clutz now, and what then? What-

She didn’t get a chance to pick up the book before he was there, gathering them up in a gentle grip. Smiling, “Here,” He said, kindly, too kindly, “Didn’t mean ta startle ya.” She fumbled for the words, hoping they would come-oh please let them come! Because if they didn’t, then-

She swallowed, thickly, brushing a strand of hair back, behind her ear, and she half wondered when her bun had become loose. But that didn’t matter now, with the redhead offering those books to her, with such a nice smile on his face, “N-No…it’s quite alright.” She took the books from his hands, repressing a shiver that ran down her spine as their fingers brushed ever so slightly. Yes that definitely was ink, she could tell, on his fingertips.

“Ya sure?” He sounded apologetic, as he glanced at the full cart of books, “Would ya like some help? You have a lot to put away, and,”

Oh, he was offering to help? She didn’t know-should she accept, should she--?

“Oh…this…isn’t that much,” She shook her head, looking down at the books in her hands, seeing the ones that needed to be put in this section, and grabbing them, “I…I can do it.”

“You sure?” He really honestly sounded like he wanted to help. He even watched her put a few books away, before asking, “They’re labeled by Author’s Last name and…section?” He picked up one of the closer books, which had the same number, she knew, as this area.

Had he picked that up just from looking? She was almost impressed. Almost. No, she was, she knew she was.

“Yes, ah, that book goes in this section as well. Two…two rows over, I believe.” She pointed, hands shaky, and suddenly the man was off, but just as soon, he was back, smiling, “Um…th-thank…you.” She hated the stutter but allowed it, when he grabbed a few books again-each with the same number.

She wasn’t quite sure how he had known they were the right ones, but he disappeared again-quick-and before she could blink, it seems, he was back. Smiling, helpful, “No problem. I don’t mind helping. Tells me where all the books are, in any case.”

She blinked for a moment, surprised, “So you really haven’t been to the library before.”

The surprise that equaled her own, disappeared even quicker, and he replaced it with an affirmative nod, “Yup. Firs’ time for everythin’, y’know?” And she would have asked, really she would have, but yet again the words wouldn’t form, “Jiji-err, Grandfather-always says I shouldn’t jus’ read for pleasure, but even I like reading a good book or two.”

“I can see that.” The words slipped out, she wanted to swallow them whole, back, push them back so he hadn’t heard how rude they sounded, “I-I mean…I can see…the books, there,” She made a motion to the chair he had been sitting in. His eyes lit up in recognition.

“Ah, yeah, love readin’, read a bit too fast for most people.” She could tell that too, after all, with the number of books. But then maybe she shouldn’t assume, even though she had and-“So there’s no real point in me checkin’ out the books. Jus’…sittin’ an’ readin’ ‘em. Heard from a few friends that this place’s generally quieter, at least, than th’ library at school.”

“Well…yes,” she agreed, “Or at least, I would a-assume…so.” Oh the stuttering was back, as she placed another book on the shelf, and realigned it, “We…don’t even have to, most of the time, we,” she paused, swallowed, “We don’t have very many problems here.”

“Tha’s good to hear.” Before she could quite stop it, she felt his hands, reach out, to steady hers, “Be careful,” and he was too close, his breath too close to her ear, and she was sure she was turning red again-so red. So very red, was he trying to flirt with her? Was he just being kind? No, of course he was being kind. He looked kind, he-“Dun’ wanna hurt yourself,” and the hands were gone, with a smile, and before she could get an accurate word out-

His cell phone went off. Vibrated, in his pocket. It was fancy, she decided, a well-to-do son’s kind of phone. She vaguely wondered about his parents, where they were, why he was living with his grandfather, and why the man was so cold and his grandson so warm-

With quick nimble fingers, the man typed out whatever message, and then sighed, “Ah, sorry, sorry, gotta go. Help a friend work on a project b’fore he,” he paused, she was sure, lightening his words, watching his language, “blows up an’ comes ta find me.”

“Ah, I…see…” she murmured, waiting for him to back away, waiting for him to leave, waiting for him to-

“Ah yeah, my name’s Lavi, by the way.” She hadn’t expected her hand to be caught in his own-he has such big hands!-but that wasn’t important. She knew it wasn’t, “What’s your name?” He wondered, just for curiosities sake, just for curtousies sake, she knew it was only polite.

So she answered, hands trembling, “Miranda Lotto,”

And he smiled, “Miranda, eh? ‘She who must be admired?’ That’s a beautiful name,” and then he leaned down, and in a flourish of mannerisms she hadn’t seen in a while, he pressed his lips to her hand, and--

She definitely was burning up now. She knew.

“Um, um, uh-” She couldn’t even think a coherent sentence, as he lifted his head and smiled again.

“Hope to see you again,” he murmured just as lowly, like it was something intimate when it could never be. Ever, he was-he was how many years younger than her? She couldn’t quite think when he raised his hand in a wave, and she felt her own, rise and wave, mechanically in response.

She didn’t drop it until he disappeared from view, until she could no longer hear his footsteps against the tiled flooring. And there it stayed, for a good couple of minutes, with her, standing stock still, staring.

Really. What had just happened?

---(That Night, when Miranda got home…)---

“So you’re saying that old man’s grandson came in and talked with you, then kissed your hand and left?” Miranda could only nod under the scrutinizing gaze of the older woman currently sitting across from her, “and you’re sure he wasn’t, you know, pulling some kind of prank?”

She nodded her head again, then paused, “I…I wouldn’t…think so. H-He really was just r-reading before I walked over to that section…with my cart. H-He only looked up when I k-kept staring at him.”

The woman put the coffee she had been drinking, down with a loud thud, “So you stared at him for how long?” She fidgeted again, hands tightening, and loosening, in the fabric of her skirt, “Miranda, Miranda, Miranda,” the woman let out a sigh, and she swallowed because she always knew what that meant.

When she glanced up, she was right. Leaning across the table, giving her a scrutinizing, but…pitying look, “I-I’m sorry!” She squeezed her eyes shut again.

Only to receive a laugh, “It’s nothing you should apologize for. I’ve seen him before, remember?” Swallowing, she nodded her head, “Actually, I see him all the time. He has a penchant for getting on one of his friends…nerves, shall we say.” She clucked her tongue dismissively, “and of course I’m immediately the one who deals with it because that lazy bum can’t get off his high horse for one second to deal with some kid that’s in his own department!” She knew the rant was coming, and almost reveled in it, because that meant the topic would go off of her and her own embarrassment, and to more pressing matters, like Cross, and his inability to run schools properly, and his horrid drinking habits that always landed him at their doorstep and-

She shuddered at the thought. He had tried to grope her a few times, she knew, and he must have been too far gone to realize she wasn’t Klaud, or Lenalee, or even Bridget. Definitely not Bridget. Or Klaud, or Lenalee. She wasn’t anything like them, a glance proved that more than enough. How they let her board with them, she was still unsure, but-

“Are you listening?” She jolted when the blonde waved a well manicured hand in front of her face, “Look, Miranda, I really wouldn’t worry about it. You work at a library, his grandfather is bound to figure out he goes there for his free time, and who knows? He might deem it ‘unfit’ for him-for whatever Godly reason a library is seen as unfit for a teenager-and he’ll make him stop going.”

“But-”

“So you don’t have to worry about embarrassing yourself again,” the woman went on like she hadn’t even heard her.

“But,” this time she tried to make her voice a little louder. It didn’t quite work, though, nor did it quite matter, when the front door slammed open, cutting off her meant-well attempts at conversation, and in stalked a very peeved, very tired, very irate, looking Bridget.

Immediately Klaud was up from her chair, rushing over to the woman, who was heaving, and looking just about like she was going to either punch something, someone, or tear them to pieces. She didn’t get very far before, in a cold clipped tone they could easily recognize, she hissed, “Don’t. Just…get me some wine. Or something.”

Then she joined Miranda at the table, pulling out a chair and cringing at the grating sound it made against the floor, before flopping down, unceremoniously and sighing like the world’s weight had just fallen on her shoulders.

Klaud, meanwhile, pulled out the familiar glass and bottle, and poured the woman a glass, and Miranda? Well…she knew this routine, it had happened on the first night she moved in. And honestly, she couldn’t blame the woman. She was sure Komui wasn’t a bad person-she had met him precious few times, when Lenalee invited him over ‘because he can’t cook to save his life’-but apparently he was very different at work than he was on the homestead and-

“That man,” Bridget bemoaned, banging her head lightly against the tabletop, as Klaud made her way back over to her, with the wine glass full, and set it down in front of her, “Remind me again,” she left her head enough to glare at Klaud, though Miranda knew the glare wasn’t meant for her, “why I put up with him? Why?”

“Because of Leverrier.” Klaud answered simply, “He’s the one who put you in charge, because he deems you worthy in watch Komui’s action, heaven forbid he screw up.”

Bridget sent her a smart look, but downed the glass in nearly one gulp, before slamming it back on the table.

Miranda couldn’t help but jump.

“Right, yes, of course,” the woman sighed, leaning back, and unbuttoning the first few buttons of her coat, which she had neglected to take off. Miranda blushed, and immediately looked away, wondering why the woman had to wear such low cutting shirts, because-she glanced down at her own chest, covered with the black sweater she loved so much-

No, no, she wasn’t jealous, she-

“It’s all because of that man,” Bridget stopped, though, as if sensing her discomfort, and leaned forward again, “Now remind me why I work for him again?”

“The pay is good.” Klaud had the wine bottle in her hand again, and was pouring the woman another glass, “And…something or other about your parents owing him a ridiculous amount.”

That never set well, because Miranda knew she was butting in now, overhearing something that was confidential. She opened her mouth to say-what, she didn’t know, maybe that she was tired and…would go to her room now? Say hello to Lenalee, because she hadn’t seen her when she got back? Or-

“Right. Yes. That too.” But she never got the chance to as Bridget downed another glass, just as easily, “Can’t really argue with that.” She sighed, “Dammit. Wish I could though,” she gave a wistful smile to Miranda, then to Klaud, before leaning her head back against the table, “Yes, that’s why. Of course that’s why. I could never,” She shook her head, shoulders heaving in a sigh, “Right.” And then she was up again, shoulders straight, eyes the determined blue they had always been-“I won’t give up that easily. That isn’t like me at all, is it?”

“Exactly.” The cork was placed back over the bottle’s top, and Klaud was smiling like she achieved something, and hadn’t just about started to rant about her own work problems, “Now why don’t you go take a nice bubble bath and rest? You do get up the earliest out of all of us.” With that, Bridget stood up, and nodded her head in affirmative.

“I think I’ll do just that. Tell Lenalee hi for me, would you?” She focused that on Miranda, all smiles, like she hadn’t just had a break down, and in all honesty, Miranda could say she was impressed.

She would never be able to do that. Ever.

She would never be able to have that confident stride, walking across the room, or ever have the comfort of feeling secure while bathing. No, maybe she wasn’t so much paranoid as anything else, but could anyone blame her? No. No they couldn’t. She hoped they couldn’t because-

When Bridget disappeared from view, she was all too surprised when the very same wine bottle, was placed, directly in front of her, “Now,” and Klaud’s face was much too close, with an equally confident look, “Listen to me when I say do not worry. Okay? I know this Lavi Junior boy, and I’m sure very soon you won’t be seeing much of him. You can even ask Lenalee, I’m sure you know him.”

And the words still wouldn’t come, when she watched Klaud put the wine away, back in the fridge. She couldn’t say ‘But I want to see him again.’ Because the fact that she was even interested-she was twenty five years old! The boy was eighteen! Barely legal, it was wrong, she knew it was, but--!

“Now you might want to go say hello to Lenalee, before she gets too deep into studying.” She jolted when Klaud looked back at her, a kind smile on her face, “After all, she has a project due in two days, and then she’s going home for a week-ah don’t you love the new Fall break?”

Miranda swallowed.

“Or, well, no, nevermind. You don’t get one.” The laugh she received was bitter, “And lucky, I don’t either. Stuck with Cross, for six freakin’ hours each day, doing paper work. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”

Miranda wanted to say yes, but she didn’t. She liked her books anyway, they were quiet, and though mishandled, and abused, at least they weren’t ever mean back. She just had to deal with the occasional customer with a fine they believed they already paid, and an occasional ‘lost book’ that needed to be found.

“I-I’m sure…it will…go okay, if you want it to.” She tried again, tried to smile, and-

“And that’s what I’m looking for.” She blinked surprised, question forming on her lips that went answered without stating, “You need to smile more often. You really do look cute when you do.”

Oh.

cross, lenalee, fanfiction, komui, klaud, allen, lavi, kanda, bridget faye, d. gray man, bookman, miranda lotto

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