Vegeta emerged from the bathroom, having taken the time to scrub away the grime and blood that had accumulated on his body after healing from his intense spar with the Namekian warrior. The lingering soreness in his muscles served as a vivid reminder of the fierce training session that had tested his limits and pushed him to the edge.
He strode through Bulma's home, clad in nothing but a towel that clung tightly to his lower half, the fabric barely managing to keep him decent. As he moved, the familiar scents of the house enveloped him, a delightful mix of cutting-edge technology and warmth that was distinctly Bulma, reminding him of the unique life they shared.
Glancing through a window, he caught sight of Bulma standing in her garden. Her hands were firmly placed on her hips, exuding an air of determination and confidence that was unmistakably hers. Behind her loomed a uniquely shaped dome-like house, its exterior adorned with the bold lettering of Capsule Corp, a symbol of her family's legacy and innovation.
Finding the door and stepping out, he continued to watch her, admiring the way sunlight danced across her hair before she suddenly turned and found his gaze. Bulma's cheeks flared bright red as she took in the sight before her. His body was filled with muscles, chiseled and defined from years of rigorous training, but his waist remained small, slightly showing off his V-line, an unintended yet captivating detail.
While small drips of water made his skin shimmer in the sunlight, the towel around his lower half clung to him, revealing just enough to leave Bulma blushing even more, her heart racing in response to the unexpected display.
"Yo—yo—yo—yoou—-" Her words stumbled out, a jumbled mess of disbelief as her mind struggled to process the sight before her. A small smirk appeared on Vegeta's face, a mixture of amusement and curiosity flickering across his features before he turned and made his way back inside, leaving Bulma standing there, transfixed by his retreating figure and the overwhelming rush of emotions swirling within her.
"WHAT THE HELL, NO, NO, NO, I have a boyfriend!!" she shouted, her voice rising in panic, desperation lacing her tone as if she were grasping at straws to assert her loyalty.
"But he's dead…" came the calm, almost indifferent reply from Bulma, her tone devoid of sympathy as if she were merely stating a fact.
"BUTTT THAT'S THE GUY WHO HELPED KILL HIM!!" Bulma protested, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment and frustration, grappling with the chaos of her feelings.
"But he's hot…." The words hung in the air, a teasing acknowledgment of the undeniable attraction that had sparked between her and the formidable Saiyan, leaving Bulma torn between her loyalties and her undeniable feelings that threatened to complicate everything.
Vegeta stepped through the threshold of the house, his brow furrowing in confusion as he surveyed his surroundings with a critical eye. It suddenly dawned on him that he had no clothes to his name, a realization that only added to his growing frustration, compounding the irritation he felt at the entire situation.
"EEEAARTHHH WOMAN!!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the halls, urgency ringing in his tone like a battle cry. After a brief moment of silence, during which he paced restlessly, Bulma finally appeared. She looked slightly irritated, her expression a blend of annoyance and concern, but despite her exasperation, her cheeks were still flushed a rosy red, a telltale sign of the flustered state he had left her in.
"What? No need to shout, and the name's Bulma," she snapped, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. He entered her personal space, and the intensity of his gaze made her heart pound louder in her chest, causing her to lower her eyes just a bit. They were both of equal height, yet at this moment, Vegeta seemed to tower over her, an imposing figure that commanded attention.
"Just breathe, Bulma, you can do this," she reminded herself, trying to steady her racing heart, taking a deep breath to gather her thoughts. "He's just a hot alien who now lives inside your home, nothing more." The words echoed in her mind as she attempted to quell the flutter of nerves that danced in her stomach like a swarm of butterflies.
She looked back into his eyes and was met with a hard gaze that seemed to pierce through her very being and a slight hint of lust, sending an involuntary shudder coursing through her body. It was as if he could see through her very soul, stripping away all barriers, leaving her raw and exposed. The intensity of his gaze seemed to ignite a deep sense of desire within her with thoughts of him hungering to possess and ravage every inch of her body, exploring depths she never knew existed. This realization sent a shiver down her spine, as she stood there feeling vulnerable yet strangely aroused by his piercing stare.
"I need your help acquiring clothes; mine are damaged," he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument, an air of authority in his voice that made it clear he was not asking but demanding.
Finally snapping out of her trance, she replied with a huff, "Hmph, demanding things like always. But I'm busy at the moment, so just take some of my father's clothes from the closet." The thought of him rummaging through her father's things felt jarring, yet the irritation was a shield against her unease, a way to regain some control over the situation.
With his face set in neutrally, Vegeta voiced his thoughts with a sharp edge that cut through the air. "Don't be stupid, woman. How would I train in those weak garments? Just take my measurements and be done with it; I need something to wear soon." His insistence was unwavering as if the urgency of his need outweighed any sense of propriety or modesty.
"I also need somewhere to train. While training with the Namekian could prove worthwhile, I find no need to pester him every single day. I prefer to carve out my own space, away from constant interruptions, where I can focus on my growth and push my limits without any distractions." His voice was steady, filled with determination, and a hint of vulnerability that he rarely showed.
Bulma sighed, a playful smirk tugging at her lips despite the tension in the air. "You truly are demanding, but I can't expect anything less from a so-called Prince," she teased, her tone light yet laced with a hint of exasperation that came from dealing with his formidable personality.
Vegeta met her gaze for a brief moment, his expression stayed neutral but a slimmer of lust sparkled within the depths of his eyes, before turning around and striding away, his silence speaking volumes as he made his departure, leaving her with a whirlwind of thoughts.
"Well… I guess that's that," Bulma murmured to herself, her brow furrowing slightly in thought as she contemplated the implications of his requests. "I should probably get him sorted out with something to wear, though… and he mentioned needing a place to train, hmm." She tapped her chin thoughtfully, her mind racing with ideas. "I'll definitely have to talk to Dad about that," she concluded, determination building within her as she resolved to help the Saiyan Prince.