Anya and the Beast

)) A/N: Just to let you hungry readers know, there will be a lemon in the future. And yes, there will be yummy fight scenes... But, this story may be a bit slow in updating. And when I say slow I mean a week inbetween each chapter update at the most.. ^_^;; Sorry, Phil\'s in college and I\'m on Achedemic Probation.. Yeah, yeah, math sucks... Anywho, read and enjoy! :P((



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Chapter 2: \'Bathtime Confessions\'

Anya had gone to bed with mixed emotions that night. Half of her mind was deeply intrigued about Munroe\'s appearance. And even more intrigued about his quick transition in behavior with her. The other half kept telling her that it\'s no use getting all worked up; that he\'d be gone soon. But, feeling the fatigue from her traveling that day, and the dull throb in her ankle, Anya soon too fell victim to sleep, her fingers lovingly clutching the handle of her violin case. When morning first came, Anya was wide-awake, always at the butt crack of dawn did this little minx wake up it seemed. With a small arch of her back, Anya stretched, her arms raising high above her head before they fell lifelessly back onto the bed. Anya had, had a few thoughts that maybe last night was a dream, but when she started to move Anya noticed the splint wrapped so skillfully around her ankle. It all came flooding back then; Munroe’s strange mission in aiding Olga. His noticeable change from neutral to almost… Tender? \'Mmm.. Wasn\'t a dream then, oh well, I guess we\'ll see what happens with our burly friend today hm?\' Anya thought to herself with a somewhat goofy smile. Turning her attention to the violin case near her hip, Anya opened it and pulled out her beloved wooden instrument and bow. Positioning the violin under her chin with a practiced accuracy and clearing her throat, Anya then began to weave heric aic across the strings with her bow...

Her music fluttered through the somewhat weak walls of the building, floating into the ears of all of the sleepers. Once again, she played as sweetly as a choir could sing her music the voice of her soul. Some of the children began to wake up, wiping their eyes as sleepy smiles spread across their faces from the music’s exquisite sound. A few children even went as far as to grab their blankets and stuffed animals, walking across the morning chilled wooden floors and pingping past Munroe\'s door into Anya\'s. As wide, curious eyes peered through Anya’s door, the children began piling inside. Most settled by the foot of her bed, one small child even dared to crawl up onto the sheets next to the blind musician, thumb stuck in his mouth, eyes wide with awe. Anya merely smiled in her playing, almost oblivious to the world as her heart poured out through every draw and lax of her bow on those taut strings, like liquid honey weaving through the air like a thick miasma.



Across the hall, Anya’s music came to Munroe\'s sharp ears through his troubled nightmares. Starting with the very first note, he began to relax and cease in his nocturnal struggles; the sounds of Anya’s ‘voice’ drowning out any aspects of distress. Dreams of terrible medical equipment, demonic doctors and pain filled procedures are now replaced with serene woodland settings. Forgotten lands from his childhood, beautiful colors, and a sense of safety, all inspired by the flowing notes. Very soon, however, Munroe stirred, realizing the notes were not only from his dreams, but came from across the hall, he awoke. Smiling to himself, the resolve he had set up the previous night faded quickly and he climbed out of bed. Passing by his boots near the door, he crosses the hall in dirty, worn in socks to come and watch her play. Seeing the children all milled around her, he almost retreats to his room, but the enchanting melody keeps him trapped. Now leaning against the frame of the door, he closes his eyes and absorbs the music, a rare, soft smile taking over his rugged features.



The lovely array of melodies and notes seemed to go on forever, Anya\'s skilled hands bringing forth almost unbelievably enchanting music from the polished wooden instrument, her second voice singing proudly in all it\'s glory. But finally after about fifteen minutes or so, the comforting smells ood ood from the kitchen wafting up the stairs from the kitchen would catch the attention of the children. Tearing their wide, entranced eyes from Anya as Olga called up for breakfast, the children scrambled out, rushing past Munroe in a hurry of squeals and eager voices. One of the children accidentally stepped on Munroe’s foot in the process of running down towards the kitchen. Anya\'s heartfelt music soon began to fade, her face serene as she lowered her bow and violin to her case once more, slowly and lovingly, she closed the case before hanging it on the bedpost by it\'s carrying strap.



The final note rang in his ears pleasantly, Munroe shakes his head and smiles. The child who had trampled over his foot been light, and he didn\'t feel any pain from the small body putting weight on his toes. Now alone with the girl, he takes a few steps into the room, coming to the foot of her bed. \"Once again, Anya, I am totally stunned by your playing ability.\" After the compliment, he kneels down and pulls the blankets off of her foot, inspecting her ankle carefully, moving it very little. \"Well, darlin\', your ankle\'s pretty swollen. Does it hurt terribly bad?\"



Anya blushed visibly, always something she did for any bit of praise or compliment. But as she brushed back a bit of those curling tendrils of her hair that had come loose while she slept, trying to hide the red that tinged her cheeks. \"Well… It\'s not too bad. But I bet once I put pressure on it it\'ll hurt like crazy.\" She chuckled then. Anya had become quite aware that she hadn\'t undressed last night, feeling that she was still clad in her baggy jeans, pale, zippered-up vest and dark green, long sleeve shirt. She also had to make a quick retreat to the bathroom in addition to changing, though she had to laugh a bit at the idea of Munroe helping her with all these duties.



His deep eyes turn to her soft, pretty face at the sound of her angelic little laugh, and he smiles softly again, once more glad she can not see his face. \"An’ what\'s so funny, Anya?\" His voice was gruff, as always, but the gruffness seems a little strained. He had to fight away sounding soft and kind, having to keep up appearances to some degree.



Anya had her eyes closed, her laughter only reinforced by the sound of Munroe’s voice and presence. The hilarious scenarios that could possibly transpire throughout the day made Anya laugh all the harder. Trying to catch her breath, Anya shook her head and turned her laughter down to a giggle with a bit of effort, holding her stomach as she tried to speak. \"N-no, Nothing. Just, umm… Yeah, \'don\'t \'read too much into it darlin\'.\" She said in a voice that was obviously trying to mock Munroe’s own gruff, brisk voice.

Munroe chuckled deeply, standing up from his seat on her bed and dusting himself off. \"You need to go to the bathroom, don\'t you?\" The slight tightening of her thighs as she held it had given it away, but that was not his only signal. There was a slight strain in her beautifully laughing voice that also gave away the fact that she was keeping something in. It was because of Munroe’s mutant traits that he was even able to hear it all and know her body’s complaint.



Anya blushed once more, but nodded, scratching the back of her head nervously. \"Y-yeah... Pretty much. Plus, I can\'t stay in these clothes all day, I\'ll bet I smell pretty rank right now. So… Yeah,hroohroom is in order I\'d say. Olga’d probably already have tossed my bag in there by now, she knows I was always the first to wash up hereShe She explained, grinning somewhat at the memory before her mind drug itself back to the present where her bladder was complaining.



\"All right...\" he comes further up the bed and gently pulls the covers away from her. \"I\'m going to pick you up again. Is that all right?\"



Anya nodded again, holding her arms up a bit to make it easier for him to pick her up. \"S\'all right. Thou. I . I don\'t see how you can pick me up like nothing, I\'m not that light you know.\" Anya joked slightly, as she smiled a bit. It was true, Anya wasn\'t exactly light, measuring at a solid 5\'8 and with a decent body shape to her, Anya was at least a good 146 lb. She wasn\'t overweight really, but decently formed, her posterior and bust a good size along with her well rounded waist. She had the faintest trace of aly tly to her, but it was actually a bit cute when she wore a low trimmed shirt.



Picking her up as easily as last night, barely a grunt escaped his lips as Munroe started walking towards the doorway. He had noticed the subtle, but natural perfection of her body through their time together last night. Along with raising subtlees hes he didn\'t remember if he ever even had before, it had deepened the endearment of this girl in his eyes. \"It\'s not like I haven\'t been strengthening myself for longer than you\'ve been alive.\" Carrying her out of the room, his eyes rarely leave her face, only departing to watch out for obstacles. Finally reaching the bathroom, he sets her upon the toilet before walking out and closing the door behind him. \"Call if you need anything.\" He calls through the door before headbackback down the hall. In his room, he slides his boots back on and laces them tightly.



Anya blinked once, not knowing if he was joking about how he said he had been \'strengthening himself for longer than she had been alive\' or not. But, shrugging once to herself, Anya felt to her right, finding the sink exactly where she knew it was. A few feet to her left, she felt over and found the tub there too. Comforted and over joyed by the familiarity once more, she smiled. \"I missed this place... Well, no use reminiscing.\"



Once she figured out how to pull off her jeans without causing further damage to her ankle, Anya was pretty much set as she flung off her vest and shirt next. In a somewhat playful manner, she flung her dirty pair of elastic-banded panties on top of the pile, chuckling as she did so. After taking care of more unmentionable business, Anya sat there on the edge of the tub, filling it up after plugging the rubber stopper in the drain. Feeling near the back edge of the tub, where the tile connected to the wall to make a sort of shelf for washing stuff, Anya smiled when she felt the familiar bottle of bubbles and shampoos she used to use when she was younger. \'Olga, you sly thing, you set up the bathroom for me before I got in here. Everything\'s exactly like it was the last time I was here...\' Managing to undo Munroe\'s skillful wrapping around her swollen ankle, Anya turned off the faucet when the tub was filled. She blinked then, not sure how to gnto nto the water without hurting herself.



Taking hold of the edge of the tub with both hands, she put all of her weight on her good ankle while trying to lower her bad one into the water. But the moment when she felt her ankle touch the bottom of the tub, the pressure made her yelp loudly in pain. Her footing slipped then, her blue eyes widening in surprise as another yell issued from Anya before she fell backwards onto the floor with a loud thump, the sound also accompanied by water sloshing and spilling onto the floor. A very un-lady-like and pained, \"FUCK!\" could be heard during the whole ordeal, the noise thankfully not loud enough for \'younger\' ears to hear.



Soon the sound of heavy boots banging down the hall could be heard as Munroe flies down the passage. Not really thinking, he opens the door quickly, one hand instinctively ready to draw out it\'s hidden blades. \"Anya, are you all right!?!\" he growls as he takes in the scene. It takes him a little bit, but his protective nature ebbs and he clearly sees the scene in front of him. Munroe can feel his face turning bright red as he inspects her nude body, every inch as naturally perfect as her face. Shaking the dirty thoughts away, he closes the door behind him, so no little ones will accidentally see. \"Let me help you.\"



\"Oh, God. Oh, God.. MUNROE! Why are you in here?! I NAKED FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!\" Anya cried as she groped for a towel, her fingers instinctively reaching for the counter where the sink was a few feet away, but she was clearly too far. Pointing her knees together instinctively to hide the more private junction between her thighs and crossing her arms tightly over the swell of her chest, a deep shade of red tinged her entire body; basically, a full body blush. Anya was on her back, her bad leg swung haphazardlyr thr the tub’s edge while the other leg was trying to touch the other an in attempt to hide her nakedness a bit more. With steam still half filling the bathroom, water dripping spastically down over Anya’s skin, as well as her erratic breathing due to Munroe’s presence, it was an overall awkward scene indeed.



\"I don\'t care... you need help.\" He said tenderly as he made way way over to her and put one hand under her back. Sitting her up a bit more, he snakes his other arm under her legs, far from anything that would be considered sacred territory. Like this, and with another soft grunt (though more from self-restraint than physical strain), he lifts her off the floor. Having taken off his leather jacket, he now was clad in a black T-shirt that flatteringly clung upon his solidly built upper body, so he did not have to worry about getting his clothes wet. And Munroe began kneeling down, he slowly lowers her into the steaming water, then slides his arms out from under her. During the whole procedure, he kept his eyes only upon her face, and what he was doing as he lowered her. Now, with her safely situated, he stood up and closed the curtain for her privacy. \"You okay now? Or can I start drying up this floor?\"



Anya sunk below the water level, letting only her angered and annoyed eyes hovering above it, purposely blowing bubbles as she bledbled. From the way she behaved it was pretty obvious that she was mad and embarrassed from the whole fiasco. She felt like a total wimp, and it didn\'t help when Munroe came in, it only made her feel like she was being judged... She never really thought she was all that attractive, so whenever anyone would see her in less than an over shirt and jeans she felt like they were inspecting her. Crossing her arms underwater, Anya quickly ducked her head under, closing her eyes momentarily before coming back up and spitting out a clear stream of warm water back into the tub, slicking back her hair once before re-crossing her arms. With a somewhat testy voice, Anya quickly murmured a phrase or word that told him he could stay; something like, \"Yeah\", or \"Fine\" \"... you already saw my whole freakin\' ugly anatomy, might as well stay now...\"



Munroe, having already knelt down to begin mopping up water with a towel, he paused and looked up at the opaque curtain, looking where he judged her face to be. \"Why do you say that? What\'s wrong with your \"anatomy\"?\" His words are soft, not wanting her to take it in the wrong way. Embarrassed he had even said a thing so close to complimenting her body (which was perfect to him) he went back to furiously mopping up her mess.



She didn\'t really know how to answer that, so she retorted sharply and rather childishly with, \"Well, what isn\'t wrong with it?\" She was still obviously vexed, too much so at the moment to register the close, inadvertent \'compliment\' he had given her. She stubbornly turned her head in the direction of the wall, as if trying to avoid his gaze through the curtain... \'Jesus, I can feel him watching me like it\'s a touch! I wonder what color his eyes are, they must be a deep, piercing colo-What the hell and I wondering about that for!? Get a hold of yourself Anya!\' She thought quickly and blushed once more, thankful for that curtain that separated herself and Munroe for more reasons than one.



Unsure how to answer a question like that, Munroe simply blushed deeply and went back to his work. Soon, he picked up the sopping wet towel from the dry ground and threw it in the sink, having finished the floor, and sat on the closed toilet seat. Holding his hands together, he stared at the floor, and tried to think of an appropriate answer tr qur question even if it was asked a while ago.

Thinking her question more of a smart-assed retort, she paid his dilemma of answering her question no mind. Anya slowly began to go about her bathing routine, feeling on the small plastic rung for a washcloth, lathering it up with a somewhat fragrant soap and beginning to wash her body, sliding the cloth along each and every inch of her skin. Then, afterwards, she began lathering up her hair with a raspberry smelling shampoo, staying silent still, as she washed, the anxiety was slowly melting away, and she began to hum lightly... Thinking… \'I wonder what he\'d say if he answered me. He\'s been nice so far maybe… Grah! Snap out of it Anyanka!\'



\"Th...\" his voice comes to her through the curtain, soft and somewhat distant. \"There\'s nothing wrong with it.\" This is taking a lot of willpower for him to say these things. For his entire remembered life, he has kept his emotions bottled up, his only outlet being the hunt, the kill and the occasional self-inflicted beating. Now, Munroe is faced by a situation where his emotional detachment would take away something he wanted, so he had to gird his loins and let out his inner feelings. Continuing, his voice still soft, he begins to gain a little comfort with the openness. \"It\'s perfect...\"



Just about to go under the water to rinse out her lathered hair, Anya paused, blinking once or twice, wondering if what she heard came from Munroe or her imagination. Shaking her head a moment, she knew that even in her mind she couldn\'t make his voice that soft, compared to its gruffness that is. So she inhaled deeply, trying to make sure she didn\'t say anything stupid. \"Y-you think so?\" She replied softly, still not sure if he was either going to answer her wi \'Y \'You think so what?\' or… something else. She didn\'t know that nervous little feeling in her was due to the desire to meet Munroe\'s approval; for she, like he, was not used to feelings becoming this intimate and new.



\"Yes...\" Is all that comes from the other side of the curtain. There are no sounds of movement, for he is simply to scared to move. He fears rejection that might come by baring himself in this manner to a girl he barely knows, a girl who unknowingly had his heart from a few simple strokes of her violin.



Anya slowly sunk beneath the water now, rinsing out her sweet scented hair, those brown, auburn locks like silk through her fingers beneath the water level as she rid her hair of all the shampoo. Coming back up, she gasped softly, swiping back her wet, curling locks and looking in the direction of his voice. She was a bit in shock, not knowing what to say quite yet. But, from what she knew about him thus far, it took quite a bit of courage for him to even say something remotely this complimentary to her. She didn\'t take it the wrong way either, it actually brought a small smile to her face, her hand fumbling for the curtain slowly. Pulling the cool, slick curtain back a bit, she exposed her face along with one of her arms. Her eyes then trained to where she heard his breathing as those foggy blue eyes of hers trained softly upon his face, so fixed it was as if she saw him...



His eyes flicked up from the floor, to lock on her eyes. Although he knew that she could not see, it was nice being able to look someone in the eyes without them timidly lookawayaway. With a soft smile on his lips, and relief in his heart, he turned the rest of his face up to look at her. The relief was born from that gentle smile crossing Anya\'s features as her wonderfully milky eyes stared bat hit him.



Feeling the weight of the silence, Anya cleared her throat, her eyelids shying downwards for a moment before raising back up, her eyes miraculously meeting his once again. Her lips parted as if she was about to speak, but, hesitating, Anya shook her head instead and let her arm extend, her hand slowly reaching for his face. With an slightly unsteady touch, Anya cupped one of Munroe\'s cheeks, running the wet, but soft pad of her thumb over it, her smile never faltering once. \"You know, you\'re a bit sweet, maybe you\'re not such an ass after all.\" She said softly, chuckling once.



He kneels down, coming more easily into her range of touch. Despite his best efforts of trying to remain strong, yet still revel in her touch, he turned his cheek into her hand, slightly nuzzling her palm. As he does so, his eyes close, wanting to absorb the moment as if it was his last. Her words hitting his ears bring his eyes open onore,ore, locking on her face. \"I have to keep up appearances and all. Gotta be a tough guy for the customers...\" he says as another smile crosses his face, lighting up his features in her palm.



Anya grinned, trailing her thumb lightly over the smile playing across his lips as a wet, curling strand fell to obstruct the view of her face. \"And… Exactly what would I be buying Mr. Munroe?\" She said in a slightly teasing tone, referring to a moment ago when he was speaking of \'keeping up appearances for customers\'.



His smile turns playful as he looks at her, one eyebrow cocking up haughtily. \"Well, most people want me for the hunks of metal I\'m packing in my arms. But... I will do almost anything for the right price.\" Her tone has brought out the ladies man within him, his tone returning to normal levels and taking on a slightly playful tone, not far off from hers.



Anya was enjoying this little game, evident to the way she shifted in the bathtub so she was laying on her hip. Now she could lean on the rim of the tub, one arm crossed as it lye along the rim, supporting her up while the other slid from his cheek to push up his chin a bit as if studying him. \"And what exactly are your limits Sir? I am a very serious client I assure you...\" She said with that sly smile slinking across her lips. Slowly sliding her hand from underneath his chin to bend and join her other one she settled her chin atop her folded arms as she kept her \'gaze\' to him, cocking up and eyebrow as well.



\"Well... I\'d have to say my limits would be women older than 40 and any men.\" His voice is straight out jovial as he makes the bad joke. His smile quiets after the sentence passes his lips, his eyes taking in her beauty, accented now by the cute position of her face upon her arms. Shifting his body, Munroe sits next to the tub, leaning his back against the wall and looking at her face. The smile remains upon his features, and his eyes upon her face.



\"Hmm... I don\'t know, I don\'t know. I need a man who can handle anything, I\'m sorry Mr. Munroe, but I don\'t know if I’m in nof yof your services without first seeing them in action.\" She said coyly, her sightless eyes following the sound of his movement as she lay her chin upon her arms. Though, quickly pickin her her head, Anya then reached to his face again, her palm cupping his cheek. In a slow, but sure movement now that she knew exactly where his face was, Anya leaned from her position in the tub. She became quiet now, that teasing smile from her lips momentarily gone as her face came closer to his, her heart sounding like a jackhammer in her chest from her nervousness. Then, slowly, she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, her hand still holding his cheek.



The coyness of her voice had almost brought a witty retort from the lips of the mercenary. However, the moment he was to open his lips to respond to her, he found her hand upon his cheek. It was that gentle touch that made him fall silent, the second he had had in a long time that he hadn\'t had to pay for (the first being only a few moments ago), made it all the more real and potent for him. It was more than he could have ever hoped for from anyone, simply from the feelings it wrought within him, he could think of no greater pleasure. His happiness was so peaked that his eyes became lidded, absorbing more of the feeling of those moist fingers against his lightly bearded skin.



While his ears did register the sound of her moving closer, or water sloshing lightly around her naked form, his mind was totally absorbed in the feel of her touch. The same mind froze immediately as a new sensation washed over it, taking his body with it. Her lips against his were something all together new to him and almost frightening in the level of shock it gave him.



\'Why is she doing this?\' He thought as his eyes flicked open, taking in her face so close to his, her expression so innocent and true. \'She can\'t possibly be feeling for a relic like me!\' This thought any many more of the like raced through his brain, beating and beating against his psyche until one thought stopped them all. The thought was potent and strong, forcing away all the trash and clearing his mind.



\'Return the kiss\'



After what had seemed like an age to him, but barely a second in the real world, his body finally relaxed. Most of his muscles unclenched, his fight or flight response falling dead, and a few others became active. Softly, slowly, his lips returned the gentle press of hers. Now that he was finally enjoying the new pleasure, Munroe closed his eyes once more as his head tilted slightly to capture her mouth all the better. Despite the immense pleasure of the meeting of their lips, Munroe still longed for more. The contact he wanted, however, was not depraved or sexual in nature. Almost as slowly as his lips had been to return her kiss, his left hand came up and snaked through the long, sweetly scented hair clinging adorably to the back of her head. Resting there, his digits played gently with those shining strands as the kiss continued wonderfully.



Anya was surprised from their kiss, she thought that she\'d merely give him a coy little peck upon his lips. But, she soon found herself caught up in the moment, the kiss blossoming into something so much more deep and profound. Her head felt like it was swimming, her mind lost in a sea of pure bliss as she became swept up in the gentle warmth of Munroe\'s tender kiss. Her breathing became harder, deeper, rushing through her nose in a steadily growing pace her body running a million miles a minute to try and catch up with her racing heart.



\'Maybe he\'s not just teasing me or acting weird, maybe he really cares...’ Anya thought this as she felt his large hand slide slowly through the wet, clingy, curling strands of her hair. That hand, that hand of a pair that held so much deadly potential… It was a big shock to Anya that his hand could so gently finger through her hair, the touch practically a caress as his mouth slanted ever so slightly to capture her lips more fully. A new prospect ran through her head as well. Why would someone care for the \'poor little blind girl\'? Was it pity? Was it a pity kiss that Munroe was so tenderly sharing with her right now? Or was it a way of apologizing for her ankle injury?



The thought of this all being from pity made the back of her eyes sting, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes even though she held their silent moment alone...



Surprisingly, it was Munroe who first broke away from the moist, wanted touch. With a deep breath through his mouth, his lips became parted from hers by only the slightest of gaps. The breath releasing softly over her lips, he backed away a bit more, his eyes flicking open to take in her face, a sight he had become quite fond of. As he stares, a small smile plays across his lips, the wall supporting the back of his head as it finishes its backwards journey from her lips. Even with the end of the kiss, he can not bear to take his hand from her locks, nor from the soft shape of her head underneath his palm, so does it remain there as their silent moment continues.



As his dark and now incredibly soft eyes look upon her flawless face, he knows that for him her eyes were not a deterrent to her beauty. Soon though, pangs of doubt begin to return to his thoughts, this only from his many, many years of loneliness and living a deceptive life.



\'She\'s playing with me…’



‘ She knows you feel for her…’ A soft, slimy voice whispered in his head, answering his thoughts.



‘I DON’T CARE IF SHE KNOWS!’ roared Munroe, trying to block out that unknown voice in his head.



‘She will hurt you...’ replied that snake-like voice.



‘NO!’



‘Everyone hurts you…’



\'She\'s different…\'



And so, the battle rages within his mind, reflected uselessly in his eyes for her. Much like her own eyes, the toughened crd crow\'s footed eyes of the unfinished weapon begin to glass over. This was a truly unique scene for the warrior. Never had he shown emotion to anyone, yet here he was, about to cry over some young bard. Years of pent up emotions seemed to have found a weak spot in Munroe\'s defenses and were clawing their way into his mind and out of his deep eyes.



But still he fights them, his teeth gritting and his eyes shutting fiercely as he tries to keep the tears away. But still, a lone tear escapes his tightly shut eyes and rolls down his worn cheek. Down it flowed, down until it reached an obstacle, which came in the form of the soft, smooth skin of the girl\'s hand.



\'It hadhavehave been pity, he withdrew from me so quickly. God, can I never catch a break? I think I\'m falling hard and fast for a guy who seems to be doing the exact same thing. But, he\'s not, it\'s just pity...But, I mean, who can blame him? Who wants to love a blind violinist?!.\'



Oh, if only she could have known that at that very moment, Munroe too was mentally struggling. It would have made life so much easier, but then, what\'s life without the lemony bitterness of a little angst? So, as Anya nearly fell victim to her own tears, she stopped, a small, breathy gasp passing by the young woman\'s lips as she felt a small, warm drop of liquid roll onto her hand. \'Did my tear already fall?\' She wondered silently as her hand slid from cupping Munroe\'s cheek.



Gently brushing two of her fingers over his lips as she did the night before when she memorized his face, the soft gesture more meant to calm him, if not get his attention, Anya spoke gently. \"Was that yours? Or mine?\" She asked tentatively, her voice almost a whisper. Now leaned fully on the tub\'s edge, Anya let her other hand move forward so she could cup his face with both hands, pointing it towards her own. With those deep, misty blue eyes she seemed to bare them right into his, searching for more than a mere answer to her question...



As those two fingers played softly over his lips, Munroe felt a few of those doubts melt from his mind. The softness of her touch went further than any weapon ever had, piercing his mind, heart and soul in one easy swoop. Unless she truly cared for him, a touch with such power would be beyond her. Once more, he found himself relaxing to her, his eyes slowly opening to look at her, his face still slightly turned from her from his fighting with his tears.



\"Th… that was my tear…\" The words come slow and forced, for he must use all of his willpower to keep from shutting himself back in his emotional shell. Another deep breath is taken in past his lips before they allow words to pass through them. \"F… for the first time in my life, I\'m starting to care for someone… and I\'m…\"



The last word is lost as her other hand comes to his cheek, so warm and gentle. Under the gentle guidance of those hands, he easily turns his face to hers. The way her eyes bury into his is not an uncomfortable feeling to this grizzled warrior, but fills him once more with that pleasant warmth of reassurance. As a result, a weak, but warm smile crosses his lips, shattering his bad mood for possibly the final time.



Anya\'s brow raised and slanted, her expression one of pure concern and tender affection shining from the gentle structure of her face. She felt an unimaginable wave of comfort wash down her body, hotter than the water in the tub she sat in, the feeling as warm and welcome as the warm rays of sun upon one\'s face. \'It\'s not pity... It\'s not pity.. It\'s..\' Each of his paced, seemingly hesitant words only made her emotions snowball; she understood his fear, she understood his mind\'s disarray.



She could practically see him, his face an utter mess of cascading emotions playing across his normally rugged, grumpy features like a painter plays across a pallet. The thumbs of her hands began to slowly stroke his fuzzy cheeks, encouraging Munroe to continue with his confession. Each word left her hanging with anticipation, her body began to shake slightly from holding back the salty spray of her own tears. \"And you\'re what? Please... I, I need to know.\" She said as a fat, rolling drop slid down her cheek, soon accompanied by another and another.



She was afraid more now than ever in her life, she could tell that Munroe was on the verge of a true confession. A confession that would probably change her entire life, she didn\'t want to believe it though; she didn\'t want to say the word, for fear of hearing otherwise and being disappointed for the rest of her dark days. \'When did it happen? When did this jumble of raw emotion build for Munroe. He\'s just a guy, some guy I met yesterday, a mercenary no less! But, I\'ve never felt like this… Like, like I\'d shatter into a million pieces if he didn’t say that he... If he didn\'t say...\' She couldn\'t finish the thought even, she didn\'t want to even think it first, she was terrified of being hurt.



Her shaky, pleading words brought Munroe\'s eyes back to the perfect face of Anya. From the first tear, his eyes watched each slow, thick drop slide down her face. When a drop would make the abrupt dive from the bottom of her gentle chin, Munroe could feel a subtle change within himself. With every drop, he felt himself become more and more protective, as well as feeling that he needed to be strong in his declaration of love to her. With one final, deep breath, he went into his confession.

\"What I was going to say… and what I am going to say is…\" He swallowed down a massive lump in his throat, \"I\'m terrified of what I\'m feeling, for it is so new to me. But… there is no mistaking it, now I\'m aware of it… Anya, I\'m in love with you.\"

His voice was strong in his final statement, but he cut off rather abruptly. His lips pursing tight, he waited for her reaction to his words. Little did he doubt that she would reject him, but a tiny part of his mind was still pondering that outcome, and that was enough to make him fret over it. So, tight lipped and wide eyed, Munroe sat in silence, watching the girl for a reaction, whatever it may be.

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)) A/N: Yeah, I know, I know. Cliffy.. I\'m an evil bitch sometimes, but Phil and I decided that maybe it would be the best ending to the chapter... Anywho, we\'ll be at it all night making more of the story so don\'t you fret! More Anya and Munroe for your reading pleasure very soon! ^_^ Death threats, criticism, and comments welcome! You know the drill...((