Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Gundam Wing AC.
Warnings: hmm….like two curse words.
Author's Note: Inspired by the song "In a Sweater Poorly Knit" – Mewithoutyou
In a Sweater Poorly Knit
Three months since we destroyed our Gundams for the final time gave me three months time to reflect upon and explore the perplexing emotions I harbor for the girl who changed me – heart and soul – throughout the war. I haven't seen her since collapsing into her open arms as my body finally gave way to all the strain I had forced it through. Haven't seen that twinkle in her big blue eyes, or the way her lips curl into a beautiful smile, or heard the way she says my name. All the distance I placed between us isn't all that much, and maybe it's the proximity that's pushing me to seek her out again. She lives at her estate in Brussels, where I happen to work at the Preventers with Duo and Wufei.
Seeing her in news broadcasts' doesn't even come close to comparing how it feels to have her standing before me. All these desires I shelter for her gain weight with each passing day, pressing down on my thawing heart with little to no reprieve. I want to feel her golden locks slip between my fingers. I want to caress her pale skin with gentle touches. I want to peer into the depths of blue eyes, so blue, open and honest like the skies above my head. Above all else, I want to capture her lips in passionate kiss that will leave us both trembling. Clearly I want to bed her and surrender my body to her, but that's not at the top of my list and can wait. If I had know what kind of power she'd hold over me, I might have gone ahead and shot her long ago. But I didn't – couldn't. In the end, she wormed her way past my barriers and clutched my heart and squeezed it tight.
Over the past month I've been trying to concoct some kind of plan to get to her, open my heart, and lay it all out on the table, pray she'll want me in return. I think she will, and so does Duo who's noticed my longing and teases me for it.
"She's totally in love you, man," he pesters. "Just go to her and tell her how ya feel."
He makes it sound so simple and it probably is, but if I'm being perfectly honest, it's damn terrifying. I'll be opening myself up in a fashion I have never done before. But I've never been one to back down and cower away from anything in fear, so I need to do this before I talk myself out of it. I'll go to her tonight.
If I were a normal boy, bypassing all the alarms and security guards that protect her would be quite the challenge, but I'm far from normal. Standing below her balcony I can feel my nerves prick and my heart pounding in my ears. Scaling the vine-covered wall quickly, I hoist myself over the edge and stand on the balcony in the darkness. Moving on silently feet, I get as close to the door to peek through the glass windowpanes. There's a soft light illuminating the space from somewhere deep in the room, and I can't find her. My heart thuds painfully at the idea of coming all this way only to turn back, but then she's there. She's here.
Watching her pace around her room in a silk lilac nightgown makes my shoulders quake, anxiety reaching new heights. I lift my hand with the intent of tapping on cold glass when another figure emerges in the room and sits at the edge of the bed.
Through the looking-glass I can hear them speak softly to each other.
"Come to bed, Lena," Dorothy coos and pushes back to lay sensually on white satin sheets. The clatter of my palpitating heart is so loud it almost drowns out their voices.
Relena saunters to the bed, climbs onto it and over Dorothy. She leans down and I watch the girl I've been festering over kiss her friend passionately. My heart shatters like fragile glass, and salt is added to my bleeding wound when I hear her say those damning words. "I love you, Dorothy."
"I love you, too."
Struggling to breathe, I move away from the window and stand with my back flush to wall. My fingers curl into my palms painfully, and I bite down on my bottom lip as this foreign sensation beats down on me like the waves hitting the shoreline with violent stormy force. A single hot tear rolls down the curve of my cheek, but I refuse to permit the others to follow suit. Jumping from the balcony, I land noisily and pathetically on my knees because my feet can't hold the weight of my body. Scrambling, I push myself up and run like fucking hell. How could I have been so wrong? Her affection for me doesn't surpass the point of platonic love, and I've been the fool to think it did. Running as fast as I can helps to drain the pain, but I feel broken nonetheless…