Gunned | SatoSere

Chapter 10 - The Gala

In the early hours of the morning, Serena remembers waking up to the sky mixed in a palette of orange and violet, the sun just peeking over the line of the horizon. It gleams through the glass and makes her wince, turning over in a grumble and that's when she notices there's a steady, warm embrace around her. In her sleepiness, she doesn't care, burrowing further into the heat of Ash's body, her face finding a home between the crook of his neck and shoulder.

She hears Ash's voice, low and scratchy from sleep in her ear. "Morning, beautiful."

"Absolutely not. It's too bright." Serena shakes her head in disagreement because it's too damn early. She grins and decides to shoot back at him. "Goodnight, handsome."

She feels his breath hitch and his soft laugh is a gentle lullaby that makes her drift back into her dreams, a ghost of a kiss on her cheek that she won't remember. A few hours later, her eyes open again and the sun is higher in the sky, and she's colder. She's mildly disoriented of her surroundings and that's when she catches a sight that makes the breath lodge right in her throat.

Ash is changing in front of a mirror on one end of the bedroom. The muscles in his back are prominent, toned to the sculptor's finest touch as they ripple on the surface of his inked skin. A portrait is painted there, in shades of shadowy ink and pearl highlights that stretches into a crouching lion's angry roar, prowling from his lower back to the curve of his shoulder and decorated in heaven's clouds, the traditional flowers of the earth, and the depths of the sea.

From his shoulder blade to his hip, there's a jagged and wide healed scar that holds a tinge of pink. It was clear that a blade carved that badge of death, and luckily, failed. Dread blankets over Serena — she wonders if this is one of those things Misty wouldn't speak about.

She feels her own arm throb and thinks about how many scars she would have to get — earn to be as worthy.

Ash shrugs on a dress shirt and covers his past along with it. Serena watches him in admiration for a little longer and once it looks like he's about to turn around, she quickly shuts her eyes and tries to even her breathing to make it look like she's still asleep.

Moments later, Serena feels a kiss press to her cheek and a caress through her hair. It's terribly unfair for Ash to make her feel so dear, so revered as if she means something more. She wants to spring awake and kiss him back, to search for the answer she needs in the forever of her lips. But she's not strong enough for it. She remains still, pretending to dream of something peaceful when in fact her mind is tormented by where she stands in this universe created by an executioner cradled in copper and gold.

Ash backs away and Serena hears the way he carefully closes the door to not wake her. When he's gone, she buries deeper into the comforter and pillow and it smells like him, like countless seasons, the crimson washed away from his hands, and the salt of his skin. She curls in on herself and around her throbbing heart that used to wonder, and is now stumbling into the realization of what love feels like.

Time passes and they don't talk. Serena manages to sneak out of Ash's room undetected and she retreats back to her own bedroom with a relieved sigh. She hops into the shower almost instantly after that, putting the water on a cool temperature in hopes of tempering the warmth on her cheek from his kiss and other things.

For how forward and demanding Ash can be when it comes to others, Serena wishes he would just tell her what it all means instead of leaving her to scramble for the puzzle pieces.

What they do talk about is said in the conference room of the manor. Serena tries not to fidget or look terribly guilty in her seat at the sight of Ash with the knowledge of the space they shared beneath the sun. She's suitably distracted, however, when he goes on about a charity gala event meant to raise money for a new children's hospital, an event the Demons themselves would be hosting in a few days time.

She scans the room and the others don't seem fazed by the notion in the slightest, as if this were a common occurrence, but Ash catches the raise of her confused brow.

"The Prime Minister hosted the last event six months ago and we're next in line. But while the partygoers are throwing their money in hopes of owning even a fraction of Kalos," Ash seems to laugh at this along with Gary and Brock who look amused beside him, and Miette has that look on her face that Serena has learned to read as trigger-happy. "We'll be handling business aside from the event."

A few ideas of what kind of business Ash refers to passes through Serena's mind and Miette plucks one of the thoughts into reality. "I hope the General brings something useful for us next time. Military-grade my ass."

The ex-fashion designer snorts and leans back in her seat. Of course, what else could she have possibly expected?

"Well, I can't wait to see what kind of food there will be this year. Five course is very needed and deserved," Dawn says, practically huffing from her seat next to her and Serena doesn't miss the amused eye roll from Misty at the words.

"Oh, it'll be good," Gary reassures from the front of the room with a confident grin, his feet resting atop of the table. "We can't let that old man show us up with that half-assed party from last time, can we? I'm a lightweight and the drinks they served didn't even get me buzzed!"

His drawn out childlike whine makes Serena chuckle and it's moments like these that remind her that it was nearly impossible to expect anything of this gang. It's refreshing at the very least. She also realizes that this could be a golden opportunity because she's surprisingly never been to a gala before.

"We do get to dress up, right?" She says with hope in her eyes.

At that, Ash smiles and stands a little taller, looking extravagant in his suit that Serena is sure she will never get used to how good he always looks. The leader's next words are said directly at her as opposed to filling the space of room, landing on her like a star-pattern newly discovered.

"We'll be the brightest stars in the room, Serena."