Ok, here is the sequel to "Un'Inverno da Baciare" for you. So many people asked for it that I couldn't turn them down. In keeping with the songfic theme, this is features another popular Italian song. ^_^
Notes: The song is "Una Canzone d'Amore," or "Love Song," by 883, an Italian group. The singer isn't really talented, as far as I can tell, and the song is a bit disapointing as far as emotional singing goes, but the lyrics are abolutely beautiful. Once again, the mp3 is available to anyone who wants it. When I came across this song for the first time in two years, my very first thought was, "I'll bet that's how Heero feels all the freaking time." ^_^ The translation is mine, and once again, I have taken some liberties with the word meaning. I honestly believe that I actually got closer to the meaning the group intended than a straight, flat-out translation would. For example, how does the idea of "writing a love song to make someone fall asleep" strike you? No good, right?? If that happens, your love song is boring. So, I translate it as "a love song to lull you to sleep." Like a lullaby, and much more sweet and romantic than your love interest falling asleep on you. ^_^
Warnings: Major YAOI warning, of a 1x2 nature, OOC, sap, angst, sap, LIME, and sap. Did I mention sap? Well, there's some sap. The happy ending you all asked for is here two, but I'm afraid you'll have to wade through some more character-torture to get to it... Forza!
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me and I am making no money
doing this. The song used for the "songfic" is not mine either.
Suing me is no good, since the sum total of my posessions is a rather small
anime and manga collection, one rather smelly little dog, and my beloved
Una Canzone d'Amore
I watch the Oz logs scroll by. There. List of prisoners. I click through until I find the part I want: new prisoners. My eyes trace the words down a little spider web of directories and charts. "New Prisoners --> Maximum Security --> Rebels --> Gundam Pilots --> Pilot 04". Quatre's caught. "--> Pilot 03". Trowa, too. --> "Pilot 02". You've been captured again, you fool. Idiot American. Why do you do this? Why do you do this to me?
I think you do it on purpose. You want to scare me, to wring my heart and drive me insane. But the truth is, I do it to myself. Every time something like this happens to you, which is far too often, it's my own weakness that drives me to panic like this. When did I ever learn to care for others? How did you do this to me? I was trained for years to feel nothing, and thereby have no liabilities, no weaknesses. But you, you broke through all that hard work and now crash and fumble your way around my world, wreaking havoc in the order I try to preserve. You turned my world upside-down.
Se solo avessi le parole
Te lo direi anche se mi farebbe male.
If only I had the words
I would tell you, even if it hurt me.
I can't get the computer to tell me how badly you're hurt, though I do find the record of where you are to be interrogated. And how. "Any Means Necessary". I feel as if I had swallowed the words, and they were made of stone. The leaden weight I feel is almost unbearable. I know that trying to go in after you is ridiculous, and that your pain and death are something I would never have worried about not too long ago. It seems a little familiar, this situation.
That time, when I came to Baruji, to silence you, to keep them from using you, because it was part of the mission. I had every intention of killing you. But something stopped me, something about you, about the way you just stood there, accepting what I was about to do. For once, that fool mouth of yours was silent, not trying to talk my out of it, but you didn't need to talk. Your raw acceptance of fate, your bravery, as it were, struck me, and I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill you. I write my actions that day off as recognition of your courage. But that changed, somewhere. Now, you are my liability. You are my weakness, and you don't even know it.
Se io sapessi cosa dire, io lo farei.
Lo farei lo sai.
If I knew what to say, I would do it.
I would, you know.
I don't know what's happened to Wufei. Obviously, he wasn't caught, but he's not here either. Just like after the other missions, sneaking off and disappearing to God-knows-where. Or maybe he had as hard a time escaping as I had. But I made it,and you didn't. And right now, that's the only thing important in my mind. I'll worry about the Chinaman later. I know this place as if I had lived here for years. It's strange, to be so intimately familiar with the lair of the enemy. The nature of being a skulker and a spy, I suppose. You were always better than me at sneaking. You have a natural grace that makes it look like you glide along the walls rather than sidle. I wish you would demonstrate that more often, instead of bounding all over the place like a damn jack-in-the-box gone rampant.
I reach the interrogation room, sneak up behind the lone guard, and give him a hard knock with the butt of my gun. That's one thing you can say for OZ soldiers. They go down easy. I turn to the door, and knock. For some reason, this always works. You knock, they answer. And they're yours. You taught me this trick. And I admonished you at the time for being childish. It's times like these, times when I might never see you again, that I wish I could be nicer to you, that I could treat you the way you deserve. But something holds me back. I know what it is. It's the damn training. The conditioning of years that tells me my emotions are wrong, even though yours brighten my life like the beacon of a lighthouse. This is why I can't tell you. Why I can't take you into my arms and confess my love.
Se lo potessi immaginare
Dipingerei il sogno di poterti amare
If I could imagine it,
I would paint the dream of being able to love you.
I see a person in the interrogation chair, handcuffed and unconscious, but it is not you. It is Trowa. I take the key from the belt of one of the guards I have knocked out and uncuff him, knowing once more that this is something I would never have dreamed of doing only a few months ago. I realize that you have made me more human, shown me that there are things more important than simply completing the mission. That when I reach the end of this sad, twisted story that is my life, I want to be able to say more than "ninmu kanryou". And there, you idiot American, is the seat of all my fears.
The reason I cannot tell is you is because of my training, this is true. But that is not the only reason. I fear you will not want me. Fear is something I have not felt in a long time. So long, in fact, that I can barely remember it. But I am afraid now, because you are a threat to me. You are a threat to my sanity and my self-control. You are a threat because you hold the power of life over me. I could not face your rejection, so I simply do not tell you. Maybe if I don't tell you, you will continue to rain down on me this glorious shower of life. That is all I want. To be in the circle of light you cast on yourself and those around you.
Se io sapessi come fare
Ti scriverei... ti scriverei...
If I knew how to do it
I would write write you
Trowa's arm slung over my shoulder, I can't help but wish it was you. That sounds sick. I don't wish you harm, but at the same time I want to be there to rescue you. These are the only kinds of closeness I can have with you. I can be your comrade, your shadow, and nothing else. You wouldn't want me anyway. Not someone with so much life, so much... enthusiasm. I can see your façade, you know. After so much time spent covertly watching, I know when the emotions you display are true and when they are not. You hold up the mask so well. So well. I wish you would trust me enough to show me more of who you really are, sometimes, because those glimpses are absolutely beautiful.
I open the door to the cell, and see Quatre in the corner. I see you, too, but you're squinting from the sudden light and probably can't see me. All the better, that you cannot see the concern in my eyes. That you cannot see me stare as I see the color staining your face, and find you all the more beautiful for it. I am sick. Quatre comes to Trowa, holding him as he begins to wake, gently embracing him. I know they are together. Only a fool could miss that one. How lucky they both are, to have such a treasure. I hear you gasp as you try to stand, and I know that you are hurt, but I can't bring myself to help you. I can't be around you anymore without fearing loss of control. If I look at you now, if I turn and offer you my assistance, it will be more than a simple shoulder to lean on. It will be my life, my heart, that I offer to you, and I don't want to do that here. Not now. Not ever, maybe. I can't. It's too hard.
Una canzone damore - per farmi ricordare;
Una canzone damore - per farti addormentare;
Che faccia uscire il calore che non ti so spiegare.
Una canzone damore solo per te... solo per te...
A love song - to remind me;
A love song - to lull you to sleep;
That would release this fire that I dont know how to explain to you.
A love song just for you just for you
I'm obsessed with you, I know I am. But how can I stop? When your presence taunts me day after day with its proximity yet still out of my reach. There's a new mission today. One of the normal ones. Low risk. Just going out and blasting OZ mecha to hell. No big deal. But you still have that bullet wound to heal, and I'm worried you'll hurt yourself again. But you wouldn't listen, even if I told you to stay. So we will go together.
I love battle like this. It allows me an outlet for the emotions I keep bottled up all the time. Before, I wouldn't have thought this way about them, because there were not emotions. Once again, it is you. You have done this to me, and I don't know whether it is a gift or a curse. You give me the ability to love, but no chance to express this newfound emotion. How I wish I could tell you. If only I had the words. Would you understand? I blow a few dozen machines to cogs and sprockets, and turn to leave.
Se un giorno io riuscissi entrare
Nei sogni tuoi
If one day I were able to go
Inside your dreams,
Something just happened. Something that must be an accident. Has to be. Else, it's some joke on your part and you don't know how much it hurts me. I just heard you say you love me. Your intercom isn't off, and I can hear you mumbling to yourself in the cockpit of the Deathscythe. And you just said you loved me. Cursed me for a fool and said you loved me. You love me. Am I dreaming?
I seek you out later, intent on finding out if what I heard was true or a trick, and fearing the worst. I don't think I've been this nervous since... I don't think I've ever been this nervous. I find you in your room, the lights off, but you are not asleep. In the light from the hall, you sit on the bed, looking as if you've just made the most important decision of your life. I'm curious. "What are you thinking about?"
You look surprised. Surprised that I'm interested or surprised that I'm talking to you? True, it's been a long time. Not since the escape from the OZ prison. Well, other than the mission. You suddenly look embarrassed, and lower your head. "Time." It's barely a whisper, and I'm sure I wouldn't have heard it had I been anyone else.
Mi piacerebbe disengare
Sulla lavagna del tuo cuore
I sogni miei.
I sogni miei lo sai.
I would want to draw
On the chalkboard of your heart
My dreams, you see
You look... strange. As if my presence were bothering you. It's understandable, I suppose. Who wants to be around me, anyway? The cold-hearted bastard. Yes, it's understandable. I turn to go, and catch your movement out of the corner of my eye as you are suddenly next to me, your hand on my arm. "Don't go."
I can't move. You're... touching me. You... want me to stay. I think that if I can live like this for the rest of my life, I will be content. I want nothing more. But none of these things come out in what I say next. "Why not?" Oh, gods, I sound so cold, so threatening. And I see your face lowers, your eyes darken. Your hand drops.
"Gomen." I can see how what I've said has hurt you. Curses! Idiot! What an idiot! Why do I do that? Why can't I find at least a kind word for you, my beautiful beacon? What's keeping those things locked away? You know, if I could, I would tell you in every way possible how much I love you. I can feel my control slipping. I know you don't want me to leave, but I have to. If I stay a moment longer, if you don't move away from me now, I will snap this thread that ties me to what I know is right.
"It's ok. I'll stay." Traitor mouth, again. What have you done? Must you try at every turn to ruin me. Really, it's no wonder I don't like to talk, with all the trouble mouths can get you into. Right now, mine is itching for a different kind of mischief.
E se si potessero suonare,
Li inciderei e poi te li farei ascoltare.
And if they could be played,
I would record them indelibly and let you listen later.
You walk back to the bed and sit, and I breath a silent sigh of relief as the small bedside lamp fills the room with its warm yellow glow. What am I to do with these emotions? Can you tell me? When all I want is you, all of you, everything about you, and I don't know what to do about it? Help me. Please. I'm going to lose my mind if you don't. "So what were you thinking about time?" I can't believe my voice can still be so controlled, so casual, when I feel as if my veins are thousands of live wires running this strange current through me.
You lean back on the bed, holding yourself up with your elbows and smile at me. It's one of those fake, overexaggerated grins that you've perfected almost as well as I have the mask of the perfect soldier. And suddenly it strikes me that this game of pretend is stupid, and what the hell are we doing here like this, when I can't control myself any longer. It's too much to hold back. I'm not good with emotions, you know that, and this one has swallowed me whole. So I'll take this chance, this one, and if you refuse me, then the perfect soldier will always be there for me to retreat back into.
I go to where you are, lean down, and put my hand on your cheek. I can't help but marvel at you once more. No matter how long I look, I still love studying these fine features. You look so shocked. Well, wait until you see what I'm going to try next.
Se io avessi le parole, le potessi immaginare, fosse facile spiegare,
Si riuscissero a suonare, se potessi raccontare, se sapessi come fare,
Se sapessi cosa dire...
If I had the words, if I could imagine them,if it were easy to explain,
If they could be played, if I could tell the story,if I knew what to do,
If I knew what to say...
I bend down, and I kiss you. I've never done this before, you realize. I really have no idea what I'm doing, but it feels right, and seems to be going like I had always assumed it did. The shock is not finding out that I am doing it right, however. The real moment my heart stops is when you start to respond. I can feel you, doing as I am, seeking to express with mouths what cannot be said for lack of words.
What a thing to happen. What a wonderful thing. It wasn't a dream. It wasn't a joke. I can see that now, as I look down into your eyes, shocked and yet so joyful. I want to drown in them, to dwell there forever, encased in your life and your passion. I want to know that passion. Maybe you will show me. At the moment, I can think only of one thing. That the kiss was nice, and that I want another one. But I need not worry. You, getting over the apparent shock, grab the front of my shirt and pull me on top of you, back onto the bad, locking your mouth to mine.
Allora, ti scriverei...
Then, I would write for you
"Ai shiteru." It's a whisper in the dark. A small, tentative sound. And I am shocked to realize that it has come from me. I hear you gasp, feel you stiffen, and wonder if I have said something wrong. A sudden pain hits me, somewhere in the vicinity of my heart, and I think I would sneak away in shame, were it not for the fact that you are on top of me.
"Oh, Heero. You do?" The voice is rough, tear-stricken. Oh, gods, forgive me... "You have no idea how much I've wanted to hear you say that." It is joy. Pure, clean, simple joy at those words. Joy to fill the world and make the deepest cup run over. "Me, too." And now it is complete. With that revelation, the perfect soldier is officially dead. That emotionless being is no longer master of my world and my thoughts. Instead, it is you, this violet-eyed ball of feeling. You are my life, from now on.
Una canzone d'amore.
A love song.
Thanks for reading!!