It is disheartening, this longing I possess, this uncertainty and yet I crave it as I crave your lips as they feather across my skin...

In the brisk air of winter, Relena blew out her breaths in little puffs, pulling the thick fur cloak over the thin pale silver gown she wore. Wrapping her arms around herself, she lifted her eyes to watch the snow descend slowly, only lightly covering the ground. The faint symphony of the orchestra was the only sound in the silence of the evening. The French window doors were slightly ajar and a sliver of light touched the white of the snow. She was in one of her moods again as it was usual during the month of the winter's solstice, what had been her Mother's favorite time of the year. Her passing had taken a considerable toll on her, much less on her brother who was closest to their father. Milliardo found it easier to celebrate this time of change with gatherings whereas she thought it difficult to partake of festivities when she would remember playing in the snow with the woman whose appearance she mirrored. Relena sighed and brushed a tear hastily when she heard the window creak open slightly.

"I have made my appearance, Miliardo," she said, irritably. "Go back to your guests, I prefer to be left alone tonight."

But instead of the argument she was expecting, a deeper voice spoke out in agreement. "Then perhaps you will understand my need to escape from them as well." Relena turned around on her heel, eyes narrowed. She did not realize anyone had noticed her absence or that anyone would know where she had taken off to. The stranger was silhouetted against the warm glow of the chandelier candlelight behind him and she ran her eyes over his figure. His tuxedo was crisp and clean. She raised her eyes to his face but could not discern his features as the light behind him caused her eyes to water.

Relena adjusted her cloak and turned her head away. "You would do well to return to the party, sir. I am not in the mood for company."

"Just as well. I am not one for much conversation."

Relena let out a breath as the man came to stand a little ways from her on the balcony. She thought if she ignored him he would eventually tire of her silence and leave but she observed, with a side glance, that he merely stood quietly with his hands in his pockets. Being able to see his face somewhat properly she noticed the unruliness of his dark brown hair, the tangle of bangs that blew from the cold breeze, the strong jaw, high cheekbones and pointed nose. She suddenly felt an odd chill and she shivered and moved away although he was in no close proximity. He turned his head toward her and she looked away quickly not wanting to be noticed staring.

"Are you cold sir?" Relena asked, despite herself.

The man was silent for a moment before he answered and she could feel his gaze on her face. "I much prefer the biting cold to the stifling atmosphere of frivolous dance parties."

Relena smiled then as she looked down into the courtyard and the snow as it fell over the stone fountain. "I can agree."

"Is that why you would rather spend the rest of your night in discomfort and flee from every gathering?"

"I am hardly in discomfort, I've always liked the cold. The snow. And how sir," Relena said with a slight raise of brow, "would you know that I always tend to "flee"?"

"I am a frequent at your brother's events," the man answered after a time.

Relena resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She never expected much from Miliardo's acquaintances. The few she were forced to meet seemed to only concern themselves with drink, gambling and a good time.

"If that is the case why have I not met you before?" she inquired.

Her companion chuckled low and she inhaled slightly. "I simply have not made myself known to you."

"And why not?"

"I needed time to overcome my shyness," came the reply and she could discern no jest in his tone.

Relena laughed out loud then, a small puff of air from her lips. "I am not anyone for you to shy from, surely."

The man moved to lean his back against the railing when Relena turned her head in his direction. "Women of great beauty are always an intimidation," he said quietly, gazing at the light on the snow that gleamed from the window doors.

Relena tilted her head. "So I take it you are this way to all attractive women?"

"No," he replied, warmth in his voice, "only with you."

Relena's expression relaxed and her lips curved into a small smile. He was flirting yes, but she found she was pleased at his admission. "I suppose now would be an opportune time for us to properly introduce ourselves," she said, as she brushed the cloak away from her arms.

It was curious really, how she no longer felt the chill from the wind as she concentrated on this man. She raised her hand and he straightened himself as he reached and grasped it gently between his gloved fingers.

A sensation descended upon her and she found it difficult to remember what she had been saying. His head was bent low, forehead touching her knuckles and his eyes kept to the ground.

"Princess Relena Peacecraft," she said with practiced authority, and lightly curtsied.

She felt his warm lips brush her hand. "Heero Yuy, it's a pleasure." His head remained bowed and still.

Relena cleared her throat. "Will you not look at me, Mr. Yuy?" It was curious how they had been speaking for almost ten minutes and he had not met her eyes once.

"Another time, my lady."

Her confusion manifested on her face and she looked at his bowed head strangely. "Another time?" Before she new what had happened, he had released her hand, and spun around with his back towards her.

"There will be a blizzard tonight Princess," Heero spoke out tightly, his seemingly calm and polite demeanor suddenly gone. "It would be a shame for your guests to be caught in a storm without warning. Until next time then."

And before she could ask him what he meant, he pushed the window doors open and walked out of sight.

.

Demons are restless creatures by nature and it is difficult for even the strongest of bodies to subdue them, to satisfy their thirst for the rich liquid that courses through the veins of mortals. The oldest of warriors are the few who have merged completely with their beast and are thus one in the same creature. The strongest of them all, their emperor who swiftly surpasses them all, has never been taken under by the will of his demon and yet he experiences weakness. Weakness at the hands of a small human girl whose existence, whose past, present and future would only graze against the thousands of years he has remained alive. His beast howls for her, his beast seeks for her and his beast craves her. He understands the call and gloved hands flex impatiently as he watches her lay against the trunk of a tree, the breeze of the midday rustling the pale pink skirt of her dress. Her eyes are lifted to the sky whose brightness is humbled only by the light of her own. He feels the claws of his beast raking against him, its rage, its urgency to possess. He takes in a breath as she raises a slim arm to brush the golden strands away behind her back, her slender neck and collarbone exposed. His beast growls then and he is sure she feels the turbulence, the pull of the call of her mate. She is nearly of age, he contents himself with, as he watches her pretty hands smooth out her skirt around her. He turns his Prussian eyes away, the agony of longing swirling forcefully within them as he fights down his demon. It is only a matter of time, he bites out, it is only a matter of time.

.

"You warned her," a voice said, accompanied with an accusing glare.

Heero gazed stonily into the pool of water in a black lacquered basin. It's image was that of a blizzard that attacked the Peacecraft estate angrily. He did not deem in necessary to respond to his lieutenant Duo's statement. His decisions were absolute in the nether realms and those who questioned his judgement were disposed of thoroughly. He raised a warning eyebrow in Duo's direction but as with every threatening glare sent his way from his emperor, the braided hair man ignored it.

Duo was wringing his hands. "How do you expect us to eat when on a whim you let our food go free?"

Heero lazily swirled the tip of a black claw over the water causing the image to disperse and form into the more pleasing visage of Relena's face. She was engrossed in her journal writing, silky golden hair tied away from her face in a disheveled bun. He recalled how difficult it was for him to not reach out to stroke her silken hair during their exchange on the balcony.

The original purpose of his attendance at the party had been for his subjects to feast upon the souls that would have been stranded in the Peacecraft mansion for the night. But when he had held her hand he remembered the savageness of the demons under his rule and realized how frightened she would be to witness souls ripped forcefully from human bodies.

Tuning out Duo's complaining, Heero clenched his jaw longingly as he studied her features, the slender curve of her neck, the slight frown of her brow as she penned in concentration and the delicate glow of her skin. No, it would not do for her to become frightened of him. She was promised to him and he would not claim her until she gave herself willingly.

He had waited twenty years for her and he would retain his patience. She had been the sole reason he held back from slaughtering all the lowly humans that dwelled on Earth oblivious to his kind and if it meant forsaking his penchant for killing, he would do it for her.

What would she think if she knew he would be relentless in his pursuit of her? If she would understand what it would mean to be claimed by the demon emperor. She valued her independence and would not take kindly to being placed under anyone's rule. Heero's inky irises swirled to reveal their true Prussian blues as his expression became thoughtful. It would be a battle to have her submit, an anticipatory smirk graced his lips, but it would be worth the trouble.