Disclaimer: I don't own Chrno Crusade, but I extend many thanks to the people who created it!

This was an interesting piece for me to write…I took a lot of artistic liberties with sentence structure, so I hope it flows alright for you. I was attempting to use a more "flowy" style…but I may have only succeeded in creating a grammatically incorrect mess.

But hey…experimenting is important, right?

Rosette squinted and moved her chair to the other side of the kitchen table. Again. The late afternoon light was streaming through the kitchen window beautifully— right into her eyes. Why the sun had to continuously move, she didn't know. She sighed and gave up on reading for the time being. Folding her page, she left the book on the wooden dining table for later and picked herself up out of the chair.

"Hey," she greeted Chrno quietly, leaning on the doorframe that led from the tiny cottage to the tinier front balcony. He beckoned her over to sit with him on the porch swing. Somehow, the early evening sunlight seemed softer outside than it had in the kitchen, and it felt warm and gentle on her skin. She smiled delicately and angled her face at the rays.

Chrno laughed beside her, making the swing rock. "I thought you and the sun were mortal enemies?"

Rosette stuck her tongue out reflexively at him, glared for a moment of lighthearted immaturity. Then she felt her cheeks warm and averted her gaze. She heard Chrno sigh.

"Rosette?" His eyebrows were drawn together, his eyes worried. "Are you…okay?" He looked down at his hands, trying to hide his distress, or maybe a darker, deeper emotion. Grief. Guilt. "Or…as okay as you can be…considering…"

Rosette closed her eyes. She knew why he was asking. Since the pair had moved out together to the cabin, she had lost her vigor. Life was giving her a break that perhaps she deserved, but didn't actually need. Or shouldn't need, not at her age. Beautiful, but monotonous; relaxing, but lazy; it was a perfect retirement setting, and it reminded Rosette daily of what was to come; her untimely and impending death, her destiny.

But she had accepted that fate long ago. If she dwelled upon it, of course it was still and always would be unsettling, but such is the case for any topic upon which one can brood. Death would have haunted her thoughts regardless of whether she was with Chrno in the countryside or with her sisters or with Joshua. In fact, the possibility of an untimely death had been creeping through her mind since she first made the Contract, and it had never affected her in such a way that anyone had seen her as anything less than cheerful.

No, this was not what was throwing her off. Then what—?

"Rosette?" Chrno's anxious murmur warned her that she was taking too long. She smiled and assured the demon that she was perfectly fine.

He didn't smile back.

"Rosette…" he said her name again, looking out across the sky. It was much darker now, Rosette noted with surprise. It was no wonder Chrno had gotten so worked up, her leaving him without an answer for so simple a question from the beginning of twilight to the last dying rays of dusk.

A whisper: "Do you…want to go back?"

Rosette inhaled sharply. Go back? The idea of giving up the chance to create their own home...She shook her head.

This was why he was so worried—no, beyond simple concern—so hurt by her change in behavior. Why hadn't she seen it? Of course Chrno would think like this, because he always thinks like this. She should have seen it. He was her best friend, her brother, she loved him!

Love. No. If that were true, she would have noticed how much pain he was in...Unless that was why she didn't notice? Why she didn't notice anything anymore.

Before, back with the Order, she would have read Chrno like a book. Not until she was here at the cottage, living with him and only him, did she begin to lose her ability to follow his feelings exactly.

Because now she was having to try to figure out her own feelings. Living together as lovers would, she was spending her time, usually spent watching Chrno, trying to discern how exactly she loved him.

"I-It's okay," he murmured, "really. I understand if you don't want to be here, alone…with someone like me."

Rosette shuddered from the complete inaccuracy of the statement. Again, she had left him in silence for too long, allowed his mind to wander. She closed her eyes as she tried to find the right words to say. Nervousness was an unwelcome, unexpected feeling in the current company.

"Chrno," she started, cleared her throat, began again. "Chrno, I want to be here with you." She forced her eyes to meet his and felt a jolt as their souls reconnected, back from the too-long separation of the past weeks. It put strength in her words. "Chrno, the only place I want to be is here with you."

"Rosette," Chrno murmured. His cheeks darkened, a purply demon's blush, but he didn't look away. Instead he leaned in, deepening the eye contact, and giving it meaning. I love you.

Rosette wasn't sure if she actually heard the words, but it didn't matter. Her eyes on his, truly, intensely, sincerely, for the first time since they had moved into the cottage, she could once again feel his emotions as if they were her own.

She closed the distance between their lips, and she no longer felt as if his emotions were her own— they were her own. She knew now how she loved him: every way. She learned from him and he from her as mentor and apprentice, roles constantly swapping back and forth. They bickered affectionately as partners, supported each other as friends. And now, it appeared, they would love as lovers, spouses, halves of one whole.

Chrno broke away first, scanned her face and seemed to find what he was looking for. He relaxed, reached up to brush Rosette's cheek, ran each finger slowly along her cheekbone. She leaned into his touch, a touch she had wanted for so long and never realized was missing. A touch that was beautiful on her face, that could be so much more beautiful elsewhere.

She took his hand and pulled him up from the bench, murmured into his ear. Chrno's eyes widened and Rosette smiled. With her mouth, her eyes, her soul. As they passed through the door, through the kitchen, to the bedroom, the smile grew. Finally she was home.

Thanks for reading!

I have an alternate version of the "She knew now how she loved him: every way" part: He was her brother and father, but also her friend and constant supporter, and as illogical as it sounded, she knew it was the truth. And she knew he felt the same—she was his daughter and sister, contractor and, as it would be now, lover.

I took it out, because I thought the whole sibling and parent things was a little incestuous and therefore disturbing…I still think there are times when they do act like that towards each other, but the actual comparison might have taken away from the story.

Review if you'd like to leave me some feedback to improve in the future! ...or, you know, to build up my confidence. But you don't have to revew, because I already love you for reading!