A/N: YamuSharr drabble. Enjoy ^^

Disclaimer: The characters and Magi belong to Shinobu Ohtaka. I own nothing.

"Yamuraiha."

She didn't turn to look at him. She just sat, the chilly night air soaking her bones. Yamuraiha didn't want to see him. Yet his voice, tired and filled with something she couldn't name, something unknown, made her want to turn around and stare at him.

Yamuraiha knew his tanned skin would seem darker in the night and it would gleam gold because of the fire. She knew his mane of unruly whit hair would fall into his eyes and glow a thousand different shades because of the dim light. And his eyes, oh, his eyes! Sharrkan's eyes were always burning.

The pompous bastard would always enjoy tormenting her; every second of every hour and every day. And he'd come to torment her mind too.

Oh, she needed to stop. She needed to stop then and there.

Yamuraiha needed to stay sane. Sane, sane, sane, sa-..

Strong arms went around her from behind, curling around her shoulders. And – when did he get close?! - and warmth, bright and hot, flooded her. Her face was burning and red and her mind was foggy. The scent of musk and metal invaded her senses and made her insides fall apart as she felt him pull her towards his chest.

Sharrkan brought her close and lowered his head to the crook of her neck, and sighed. He wasn't sure if the sea-witch had somehow hexed his insides to steam, but he was sure this was what it might have felt like.

Her presence was so sweet to him. She was so much smaller and softer and it felt like Heaven to hold her. Sharrkan felt her breathe heavily, in and out.

The witch was loud and arrogant, almost as arrogant as him, and curiously enough, she made him somehow proud, Whenever they argued, he felt that swelling in his chest. And it grew, and sometimes, he couldn't even breathe. But he was stubborn – just like her - , and he would have never admitted that. And as mean as she was, she'd let him hold her every once in a while.

As much as they fought and swore at each other, Sharrkan couldn't help but pull her in whenever they were alone. And alone, they were, tonight. It was a cold, damped night, and ever though fires were burning everywhere, Yamuraiha had pulled her robes around herself and blocked the rest of the cold world out. That is, until he decided to come to her.

And then, as she lay in his arms, she couldn't think of anything, but how to properly breathe. Sharrkan's green eyes fell to the nearest fire. He felt some sort of – pain, dissapointment – sadness.

His eyes widened slightly as he felt soft hands brush his knuckles. Lithe fingers intertwined with his own and she leaned against him. He threw a boyish grin, she'd rather felt than saw and she yawned.

Yamuraiha turned her head into his shoulder and closed her eyes, sighing. He heard her mumble something. He grinned, breathed against her ear and held her tighter.

"Sharr-kan."