Title: Breathing in sickness part 1 and 2
Warnings: See, if I gave you warnings that would destroy the whole suspense thing so instead I will say that it is all ANGST!! and shonen-ai duh! Oh the terror. BTW, I do not own the characters or anything else of Gundam wing, that belongs to its respective owners. I DO on the other hand, own this story so be nice and dont steal it.
Notes: Hmmm . THANK YOU to everyone that beta read, that reread, that preread and over read THANK you to all of the wonderful people that commented, and that cared enough to give a damn. THANK YOU!!! Niki, you are the sweetest person in the universe!!! JAcko, I am SO the Drama Queen, thanks for the title. Im DONE!!! YAY!!!!!!!!
Contact me at: firstname.lastname@example.org or
Breathing in Sickness
Quiet, that is all there is in the room mind boggling quiet the kind where your ears stretch out to grasp at any sound none of which come. I hate sound-proof walls No, hate is a small word for what I feel for them .
I exhale loudly, listening to that whisper pool along the floors and rebound off the walls and then I am alone again left to contemplate my own stupidity, and the loneliness most of all the loneliness.
So, how is the day today not bad not that bad at least school isnt on, that should be enough to keep me somewhat happy
scratch that idea, talking to oneself only makes the silence seem greater I pull my legs up to my chin, leaning against the sterile white walls while gazing out of the window spotless everything in the damned dorm is spotless. There is not mess on the floor, as the vacuumed and polished hardwood was too intimidating for me to leave anything lying around. The closet my clothing hangs neatly and beside my bed past the dresser that shines, reflecting the last dying rays of sunlight, sits an uninhabited bed.
His bed. I groan, burying my face in my hands allowing my hair to pool aimlessly on the mattress, cloaking me as if to offer some sort of barrier, but in the end, it is hair it is insubstantial. And that just leaves me, a pathetic teenager, waiting for the return of his friend. Bloody idiot had to insist on leaving me here and telling me to wait for his return oh and wait for message on the laptop hinting that maybe I ought to study the next mission...and do some homework over all...I was to be a secretary. Left. Alone. In the most intimidating dorm I have ever seen. Everything about the room, should, radiate heat warm coloring wooden furniture but at the same time, its newness, and the fact that all of it is scaring the living hell out of me is causing it to shift and change into some sort of deranged nightmare.
I pull myself from the bed, and trudge over to the bathroom, yearning to wash my face, and bury myself in a towel I pause before opening the door mirrors the mirrors in this place are just as sinister as all other aspects of the academy. It used to be some sort of prison I think and then it was converted into a school, for the children of high status. Keeping the outside world at bay. Maybe that is what is getting to me the vibes the concrete walls all of it still releasing the heat of bodies of men all of them dead, or wishing they were.
I hear the door to the room open...it closes no footsteps no sound
Ohaio, Heero!!!! How was your day did you find anything interesting? What did you do? Are we leaving anytime soon?
Uncontiously I fill the room with boisterous laughter questions non of them really needing answers all of them begging to fill up the space now that there is someone else to listen to them destroying the silence.
Hn. He walks over to his bed sits down at it. You didnt turn on the laptop. He runs his hand through his tangled hair, before leaning over gracefully, skillfully and pulling the laptop from beneath the bed.
Oh ? I stare at him . Hating what he does to me, and loving it all at the same time. I do not realize anything is amiss he boots up the laptop, and leans over it to work his back arching gracefully a natural movement among the straight lines and perfect curves of the furniture and walls. A welcome natural shape ano .I dont see why that is ..
The computer beeps, signifying a message waiting. I feel my heart skip a beat as I realize...I was supposed to have waited for messages.
is it important .? Well of course it is if it wasnt he would not be here glaring at the screen...his eyes they are as cold as the room .maybe that is why I feel so ill here I feel like I am drowning in him.
I clench my fists feeling stupid, and ill I hate this I hate him I love him I think I do do I? I stare at him in silence, the only sound in the room, the mechanical buzz of the machine he isnt even typing just staring at the screen reading through the message he poises his long fingers over the keys, gracefully and proceeds to write out a response. My body aches I dont know for what for whom ? I lean against a wall. Watching him type he knows Im looking at him, I ceased hiding it months ago, when the war restarted again. I doubt he knows why does he realize that his face is amazing if I could draw, I would sit around sketching it, if I could paint, I would paint it and if I could sculpt...he would be my David. My David. My. Mine. No ones, he isnt owned well maybe by Doctor J. but still. He looks up...he looks puzzled. I meet his eyes blue like ice blue isnt the hottest type of flame blue ?the most scorching sun? the deadliest heat? .they look cold his voice mechanical.
What is wrong?
Once upon a time I would have jumped at the chance, analyzed it in fifty different lights. Pulled through 500 books, hoping to find a romance that started with that pathetic little question. Now. Now is different. I look back at him cooling my body steeling my mind, so no emotion could be found.
Nothing that will jeopardize the mission.
I push back from the wall. He is looking at me. I pull on a meager coat. It is cold outside winter I need some physical cold, to destroy the ice I feel inside.
You will freeze if you wear that.
Ill be fine . Nothing will go wrong with the mission happy? I snort, some sort of pathetic laughter does he look startled maybe This place is getting to me I dont usually act like this normally this sort of reaction is to stay very well hidden. I dont even smile.
Duo He stands up, walks past me, and rummages through his closet, before throwing me his coat. wear that.
Ive grown to be too much of a skeptic what used to be critical thinking has turned into a mush and I couldnt give a damn about what this gesture could be read as I am too hurt to read into any more of his actions my interpretations always proved wrong.
better to have loved and lost, then to have never loved at all lost that is all I am doing losing to the perfect soldier.
I throw the coat back at him with distaste. Keep it in case something important happens .I will not jeopardize the bloody mission. Ive said it before, Ill say it again. I. Will. Not. Jeopardize. The. Bloody. Mission. I turn on my heel and stalk out of the room.
The cold is the first thing I feel, once I pull out of the hallways out of the perfectly monitored, optimum humidity rat maze. I pull the spring jacket closer to my skin .over all, the cold sucks shit. And I hate being this cold, I have poor enough circulation already. But. But, I need this sort of treatment so that I feel somewhat more alive then I do in that room. Where I am constantly referred to as Baka, by a person that, for some unknown reason, I care about. So what have I done? Simple, I steeled my heart against this emotion .I pulled it apart, examined each piece like another bit of crystal. And the then stored each separately in tight containers so no light can show its radiance so they cannot come together and reveal their beauty. His. Beauty.
My shoes are wet the snow had quickly melted around my feet, and had already invaded the thin sneakers. I sigh and proceed to make a loop around the campus the knee deep snow not bothering me. Much. Just because I had managed to steel myself from feeling it. A cough racks over my frame. Surprised I just stop it is dark now the sky above me is covered in a black blanked and through it pricks of stars.
I remember being a child, and pulling a thick wool blanket over me, in the presence of light to fight it off. I looked up and there, in my little world were millions of pricks of light, piercing my personal darkness. And here they are now never leaving me. I cough again and finally notice that I am shivering. My legs feel stiff and unnatural. I trudge through the rest of the snow, my body screaming at the cold, and at me for not acknowledging it. The darkness recedes as I near the dorms. I ache for the warmth inside .but I hesitate outside the doors .warmth for my body cold for my soul .I cant win. I pull open the door, and let the glorious stagnant heat hit me.
He looks up when I enter the room, his hands freezing above the keyboard.
Duo he growls. I shrug at him . Noticing that he is staring at the fact that I am soaked .my lips must be blue I grin at him amused at the amount of torture I can put myself through without being labeled as self destructive.
Im going to take a shower .and anyw- I feel the cough rising in my throat. I stop it. Cutting off the sentence unnaturally. I will not let him be right again.
He raises an eyebrow, probably wondering why he was blessed enough to live the moment of Duo not wanting to talk. I frown lightly, before walking into the bathroom. I turn on the shower it is loud something about the badly made shower cap has always made it so. The water flows down my flushed skin. It is so hot It feels itchy and irritated as thousands of nerve endings come out of their induced hibernation. I would have screamed at the sensation, if it wasnt for the fact that I was coughing my lungs out. This was not the fault of my recent walk rather I have been finding these unsettling cough attacks every now and again and they would hurt oh God, they hurt .my entire throat felt raw but I would. never. Allow him to know.
I step out of the shower letting the water puddle around my feet, as it runs down my body I glance into the frosted mirror sliding my hand down its indifferent face .then I feel it the warmth in my throat and I cough and no matter how hard I try .I cant stop.
I hear someone pounding at the door.
Damn, now he is going to give me a lecture about going out alone .I know it I hobble over to the door and place my weight against it.
Im fine I croak, and regret it instantly the coughing became fiercer .I cant breath. I cant breath. Im going to die, naked in a bathroom with my poor hair all over the place my poor hair I would have laughed, if I was not so occupied with trying to breath.
cough. inhale. cough. inhale. cough. inhale.
Cant inhale if I dont clear out my air passage first. Cough. Inhale. Im going to die . Might as well give this up then.
Cough. cough. cough.
Who needs to breathe anyway? Not the God of Death .
I feel my legs give in under my weight.
Duo? this time Heero sounds almost frantic.
Fuck . I swear lightly, between coughs I guess I screwed the mission.
I feel the door violently swing inward throwing me away from it I feel myself being picked up fingers against my neck. Being dropped. Someone running? Coming forward. Something being jabbed into my chest .was it? I feel prickling all over my body my fingers and legs feel weird. Somewhere in my cloudy brain I realize Im .choking . then breath. My lungs fill with air the inhale is sharp and rackety and I feel my entire body shake beneath its violence. Someone is holding me.
Im gasping. Vaguely aware of the fact that the warmth of someone against me has pulled away .my hands rest on the floor my head hanging in defeat and then I feel sick .running to the toilet before losing anything I ever ate. I slide back onto the floor, shaking uncontrollably. Heero is standing above me, holding a towel, one in which I am very soon wrapped .it is warm .smelling vaguely of detergent, and shampoo.
I grin. Today I most definitely deserved that.
Typing someone is typing and light is invading my face causing me to see the world in red through my eyelids. I open my eyes feeling normal was yesterday a dream? .I doubt it. My breathing is still a bit ragged and my throat is sore. Typing. Light. Today is Monday light in winter means that I no correction we are late for classes.
Heero why are . I cut myself off, horrified at how hoarse my voice sounds. I pull the covers on the bed closer to me drowning in their warmth.
hn. And yet the usual cold behind that comment is gone. He is sitting at the edge of my bed his back exposed to me arched in a way that I am so used to admiring. He turns to face me.
You tell me one moment I couldnt breath the next I could how did you manage ?
Steroids to open up your bronchioles. What happened? His voice sounds strained as if he is trying to keep himself from doing something probably hitting me.
I was coughing and I couldnt breath that is all
I dont know.
You were nearly frozen when you returned.
Hypothermia doesnt kick in that quickly and Ive been doing this for months now.
That gets his attention his face, which had been half turned from me, whips around to stare into my eyes. I swallow, uncomfortable. Memories of hopes, dreams fantasies running through my brain. I tear them down and steel myself. Heero isnt the only one who can play at being the cold bastard.
Im taking you to the hospital. The tone of his voice clearly outlines my course of action. Obey. He would take me there whether I was conscious or not. I look up at him as he stands. He walks to the closet throwing some clothing on my bed.
With this he leaves the room, to hot wire a car, no doubt.
The room is cold I hate it the cot is colder, and Im left alone. Heero had some urgent business to attend to while I was being checked up on. No way he was going to go out of his way to help me no fucking way.
Do you smoke?
The woman standing in front of me asks. Her hair out of her face, via efficient ponytail. Heero would like. Her.
no. I reply.
Have you recently been exposed to a large amounts of soot and smoke?
I stared at her blankly. Im a damned Gundamn Pilot, I blow things up of course, you wench!. I stare at her blankly.
Your lungs are covered in it .I believe you may have bronchiolitis
I look at her blankly. Things fall apart. Things come together. My increased inefficiency. The coughing.
Normally, your lungs should have been able to survive far more then the damage that is inflicted on them which brings us to another problem your air passages are not producing enough mucus to keep dirt from your lungs, hence causing such a high accumulation in little time
She talks for a long time I hear the door opening a bit. Heero is standing there. I dont smile when did I last smile a week ago a month ? I dont know what is happening to me
there is a possibility that you will die if this continues.
I grin at her. She stares at me with shock probably not used to that reaction so I am dying, big whoop my body has finally caught up to what my mind has been doing for years now.
Oh ok so is there anything to make the coughing stop? It distracts me.
Duo she begins tensely .looking at my grinning face. I realize that it is difficult to believe such a thing and that this seems shocking and unreal but you must realize that it is VERY real
I cut her off by letting out a cold laugh. She stares at me, like a deer in headlights.
Look, doctor, Ive been having hour long coughing fits I nearly choked to death yesterday you dont think that I realized that I was dying a while back? Damn you are denser then your Ph.D. suggests Im just glad to know what I am dying of.
She looks mildly horrified. Good for her, usually by now, I would have gotten slapped. Duo there is a cure.
How long does it take, and does it require me to be inoperational for a while?
two weeks, for procedures two months for partial recovery, one year for full recovery
nope sorry dont have time how long before I choke to death in my sleep?
I keep grinning. Do I care? Im, dying the god of death is dying I have never been happier and I didnt even have to slit my own wrists to die.
I Duo but I mean dont you want she is pale but her training soon takes over her initial reaction no doubt she has read of this sort of denial in a book or something. She becomes cool and coordinated again Heero WOULD like her. If you do not have the treatment you are looking at about three fourths of a year. If you take it you have a long life ahead of you but since you have refused me at the present time, I will give you my card, so that when you change your mind you can call me.
Thanks Doc. See ya in a year! I hop off of the table pulling my jacket off of the wall, and pushing past Heero on my way out.
He sits driving the car finally old enough to do so legally. I sit staring at him, grinning.
Say Heero, you look paler then usual, what is up?
He looks at me briefly angry. you know very well, Maxwell.
oooooh last name Im in real trouble now.
He pulls the car over I see his knuckles are white he is clutching the wheel so tightly
I knew he was going to ask. Heero, a year from now, this battle may very well be over on top of that, I think things are winding down so soon this all will be over until then though we need five Gundamn pilots. Missions need to be fulfilled. And anyway, you said it yourself. Im expendable. Where had the vicious tone come from? He is staring at me his eyes giving away something, yet I am so unfamiliar with what he is that I cant interpret it. SO much for all of my watching.
Glad to see you back to yourself. Lets go home I need to get ready for the bloody mission.
He glares at me.
Well I fucked it up enough as is dont wanna go out of my way to get into shit.
What happened to you?
The question hits me off guard. I stare at him .my mouth opens and closes, without releasing a sound.
You used to laugh and talk around me you dont do any of it anymore only when you are around everyone else .sometimes.
I grew up and figured it out Heero, you would, on average, tell me to shut up five times a day or call me Baka you still do both. I dont know I guess after a while the things someone else wants are the things you give.
If it was at all possible his knuckles went whiter I heard the steering wheel let out a low groan as the plastic was bent out of shape. I am VERY happy that he is not driving though that does make his hands free enough to strangle me. Dying in the hands of the one you love dying by the hands of the one you love one little word makes all the difference.
He licks his lips almost feral but not really. Fuck you. The hands drop to his lap, and he throws himself back into the seat, leaning his head on the headrest, exposing the curve of his slim throat.
I do love his throat.
Bits and pieces of him that I love, I wonder what would happen if I fit them all back together I wonder if it would finally kill me. He keeps looking up, as the traffic plows through the snow to our left, and the dry snowflakes fall lazily to the earth. I keep looking at him, his hair, slightly longer brushing at the bridge of his nose, as he stares through the sunroof, onto the accumulating whiteness
I feel as if someone is whiting us out of history
Or at least, at least this stolen moment.
Yah fuck me I whisper, before realizing that I had said it, I try to laugh, it comes out like a chortle, a dark sinister chuckle. He shifts his eyes towards me, his face molded into that one expression I can never place, north of anger, yet west of calm. It is as if something monumental was hidden beneath his blushed skin, lit ever so palely by the stark gray light of winter.
You his brows furrow in confusion. Idiot. I know that he is more articulate then that, I have watched him speak things that would make the sunset weep, for its inferior beauty. Yet somehow, he never bothers expressing himself when I most want him to.
His shoulders droop, I never realized they were tense talk.
I talk .yes Yuy, I do that a lot. He winces.
I like it when you talk, it fills the silence because if you are not there, then all I can hear is my own voce echoing off o the insides of my head repeating what I say in my memories....do you understand?
No. Now lets get home for the mission.
Yes. But I cant let you know. I count on you to stay the way you are, you are not to care not sprout sonnets not not look this hurt? Are you hurt? Your back, so stiff, so tense, as if ready to lunge. Have I angered you?
Someone once told me that it is better to feel pain and anger then nothing at all do you feel anger then? who are you angry at? Me or you? My mouth or your hands neither doing what they should ? Maybe it is just me, all of me or maybe
Youre looking at your hands. Do you see the anger there? Or are you not so original, seeing what all soldiers see, blood.
Duo his voice is calm, contrasting with the angry desperation that had barely tinted it before. I dont care. I think that I did once, but Ive become desensitized, lost the part of me that had the ability to sit down and worry about my future...because...all my future is blood. And youre his brows furrow, before he snaps out and grabs my hand, I gasp, as he brings it up for me to see.
Very good Yuy, it is my hand.
Dont be a bastard Duo, it has yet to suite you dont you understand ? your skin its he gestures to the snow, falling pure, upon the car, with his left hand before dropping it, concentrating on my hand in his right. His hand is warm, and callused, and everything that suggests honesty and goodness things that I have always associated with him, although I have no clue as to why.
His voice lowers, soft like the dry snow brittle, but with the inexplicable ability to burn. Dont you understand you just proved me wrong, very wrong you always seemed . He finally looks up at me and he looks. Not just to be polite staring at the skin on my face, not to look like he is paying attention, but looks, for nobody but himself. untainted.
I pull my hand away as if burned, maybe that explains this heat in my body, so warm in my stomach. He does not look hurt by the gesture, I wonder if I would like him to be.
We are soldiers, Heero some of us have been tainted by blood, and the rest of us have been dunked in it. Except for you, because somehow, no matter that the snowflake is built around a heart of dirt with you, Yuy, it feels like the purest is hidden beneath that decay an inverse snowflake. I smile. You look surprised, before turning your eyes back on the road, and placing your hands once more on the wheel.
Fuck you he whispers so quietly that it is almost as if he means it for me not to hear he does, on the other hand, make no attempt to hide the smile.
I look back out into the snow, watching his reflection in the window packing guns. He looks up, and I feel something wrench within me.
Duo are you packing? his voice is soft. I remember it sounding like that only hours before, when I had opened the door to our dorm to be confronted by flowers. I asked him about them
Yah, just a minute. he said that he had no idea how they had gotten there. He lied I think. The way that the lightest tint of rouge flashed against his olive skin, and his almost abashed behavior pulled me towards a startling conclusion.
Ill pack it for you if you want
A conclusion which I dismissed as quickly as I had made it.
Stop it. He looks up, and I can see his face once more reflected in the window, distorted by the falling flakes outside the window his eyes blacked out of his face, leaving behind two gaping holes. I pull my eyes away from the image, and look upon his true form or at least as true as he will ever let me see it. I stare into his eyes, and they shift down, focusing away from my face and instead dropping to watch his hands perform the menial task. The pale fingers weaving in and out from the parts of guns, explosives, and detonators.
Stop what? he asks calmly, and yet the cold seems to disappear from his voice. Absorbed by the cold surroundings, muffled by their indifference.
Why are we you and I why are we running around each other, both wanting to say something while neither of us does. I see some sort of yearning in your eyes when they once more rest upon me .something within your posture giving away an emotion that you want to voice. But you never voice your feelings.
Like I never voice mine.
why do we keep hurting one another? It is his voice that finishes off the thought, his bitter smile that remains hidden, as he once more lowers his face, trying for all the world to look preoccupied shifting the contents of the bag around.
hurting one another? I ask, not so much because I do not understand, but rather because I want to see how he understands it, how his mind puts words to the plethora of emotions that permeate my every thought.
Yah Im right,. Right? We keep on doing things that destroy what little humanity we have no no that is not what I meant I mean, we have to do some of the things, we are soldiers but he looks at loss for words. His hair hanging limply around his face, which regards the floor at his feet.
why do we do it to each other? He walks up to me, and I notice the dark circles under his eyes, the weariness in the lines of his face and the terror in the knowledge that tomorrow he would have to wake up and face hell again. I look away, unable to bring myself to believe in this compromised image of perfection.
He wearily leans against the window, tracing his fingers over the glass, in nonsensical patterns.
I dont know. Maybe I try to grasp at a reason at anything that would allow me to logic my way out of the mess that I had gotten into. Fuck, and after we had such a nice non-confrontational evening. I suddenly become aware of his hand resting on my cheek. The warm palm digging into the sharp bone beneath the skins surface. I feel the heat rising within my body, and quickly turn my face, feeling his hand slide off lightly, lingering upon my chest before falling the rest of the way to his side.
So what was that? I lick my suddenly dry lips, and watch him, as he stares out the window, his hands resting at his sides, and his eyes blank. I try to calm my breathing. So was that more...was that harsh action the more that I have longed for, for years?
He is hardly the tender lover that they describe but then again non of his actions are tender thank God, if they where I would not know what to do with myself, what to do with him.
maybe, we just dont know how to do anything else I mean, other then hurt one another.
He nods slowly, before lifting his hand to my cheek again, I flinch away, worrying that he would rest his hand there again, provoking those well buried emotions again his hand hovers, frozen, for a moment before he pulls some hair away from that flushed skin. His hand once more drops mechanically to his side.
Its the way things are I for what?
Your cheek it will probably bruise he pushes away from the window walking over to the duffel resting on his bed. He pulls the bag over one shoulder before walking to the door. sometimes his voice is a whisper, and I have to strain to hear it through the white noise of my mind. I dont know my own strength. With a final chuckle he leaves the room. Leaving me to puzzle over how such a would be happy sound, can seem so sad.
Duo pull back His voice holds an eerie calm no eerie is not the right word for it. After all, I had heard that same tone so many times now, that it hardly seems odd, so maybe it is just that lately all I have been hearing is his whisper. Wing Beta smashes another oncoming suit with the butt of its sword, then the menacing thing slowly turns and stalks towards me positioning itself to protect my Gundam.
He is protecting me. Damn it I would have hoped that I could save some dignity, even in this situation. I force Death beta to its legs, or at least to its leg and a half, and attempt to reach for the scythe only to find that the fucked over piece of useless metal had gone haywire on me, and the power generators had turned against me. My left side was useless.
Duo. I repeat, pull back. This is a direct order. 02, pull back. The voice resolves itself into the strange soft whisper that had graced his lips just hours before. The almost strange commanding presence within that seemingly insignificant tone making me want to follow, if only to protect the wielder from the pain of being disobeyed.
A mobile suit gets lucky and I can simply stare helplessly as it takes out his thermosword.
Fuck, I guess this means that we are fighting for our lives.
Well, at least I will get some dignity back in a rather stupid way but
impossible, Heero clear a radius of 2 km, I repeat, clear a radius of 2 km.
It is odd really to be here, knowing that this time is for real, and that this time nothing will go wrong. I guess that some weird part of me had thought that I would die from the choking optimistic really. I smile, for the first time in years the end. Owari.
no. The same whisper this time strained, and for the first time I become aware of the fact that I can hear his breathing over the audio link.
I glance over at the screens. .to see him like that, his face betraying him, finally. His eyes wide, his cheeks flushed, and his chest heaving just so I let my fingers splay over the screen containing his picture I really, dont want to see it him. He might change my mind and then where would we be?
please Duo his voice, barely a whisper, carrying truer then any scream of agony.
Everything I love dies even my own feelings for you, which I treasured in the crevices of my wounded mind the bits and pieces that I have saved within my memory to remind me of you falling apart. Where I can only catch glimpses, and bits and pieces of everything that is you .the colour of your eyes, so cold yet fiercely hot at the same time like fire enclosed in a crystal. And your smile so rare and so many others, the texture of your hands as you lifted my own the guilt filling your soul, that seems to wipe away my own and that look, the one I can never identify, shining in your eyes.
It is only there for me.
I turn to look at the camera .ripping my eyes away from his visage.
01, please clear a 2km radius. I wonder what your expression was like, I dont know I never turned to look, to adhere those pieces back together rather I just stared up into that camera, knowing that it was you that was staring at my face as these tears fled down my cheeks. As I finally exhaled and pushed.
Funny, I never would have thought that death would be so insignificant one little button, it could have been anything, from a button on a shirt to one of those little red buttons that open doors for wheel chairs. But this one is different.
In my dreams I'm dying all the time.
I never meant to hurt you
I never meant to lie
So this is goodbye
This is goodbye
Slowly he backs away I guess that this is another way that we hurt each other dont his voice cracks, and it takes me a moment to realize that it was not the result of a faulty connection.
and that is when I see it, that memory a scrap the catch of his eyes on some light a reflection in the mirror when he thought I was not looking that look, the one that I only see when he sees me white knuckles upn a steering wheel pale flowers upon my bed spread that whisper.. a hand on my cheek drawing away only after I had flinched after oh God
I guess he was always right, I am an idiot. After all, who would have thought that Heero Yuy, gundam pilot could be in love with Duo Maxw-
The beta things have got to do with the fact that I really wanted to
dump this into a non-existent story line
i.e. the future. Seeing how
unoriginal I am, I decided to name the Gundams beta
was lacking inspiration.
Duo: *sounding absolutely horrified* You killed me
Heero: she killed you.
Sun: A yup.
Duo: but she killed me.
Heero: * nods in agreement*
Duo: Heero, you are not catching the magnitude of this she KILLED me.
Heero: So she did. In a really bad battle scene too
Sun: Oh shut up, I cant write a decent battle scene to save my life.
Duo: But but you killed me .
Heero: Get over it.
Duo: Yah, but YOU arent the one that is dead.
Sun: tell you what, next story, I kill Heero.
So here is my question, the story could end here but I could also write a slightly happier ending (mind you the key word is slightly cause I SUCK at happy endings erm so Comments ? critisism? Help with battle scene?