"It's cold," he said breathlessly.
"Of course, you've been living in the desert" Trowa protested with little feeling.
"Trowa?" he said softly, Trowa turned toward him, what was that in his eyes? He had never seen such a pure expression, never directed toward him. It was a yearning for expression, or more want of an expression of yearning, a need that couldn't be satisfied. Trowa realized that he shared in this feeling, and quietly broke the gaze…no need to exploit feelings he couldn't express, refused to feel.
/Take your head around the world
See what you get from your mind
Write your soul down word for word
See who's your friend who is kind
It's almost like a disease I know soon you will be \
Trowa was adept at lying to himself; the warm gaze was nearly gone from his mind. The embrace last night, was an expression falsely directed, he had been sleepy that was all. Last night was a mistake in itself, he was only causing himself pain by staying with Quatre, watching him, and letting him think there was something wrong. "How could I let this happen?" Trowa silently chastised himself
"Is something wrong Trowa?" Catherine asked setting down a bowl of soup in front of him.
"Why would anything be wrong?" Trowa didn't look at the girl as he spoke; her gray eyes made him nervous…almost as if she could see what he was feeling.
"I dunno, you just seem sad and faraway" She finally caught his gaze and held, her eyes burned.
"It's not good to lie Trowa," she said breaking the gaze and starting on her soup.
"How much do you know?" Trowa's spoon hit the table.
" I know something's wrong," she said setting down her spoon as well. Trowa pushed his chair back and it scraped across the floor, he hit the door with his hand as he left, leaving a small dent. He found his solitude almost 4 miles from the circus, on a hill overlooking a military base.
"Fine…if this is what it takes, I…I love him…I LOVE HIM" Trowa's voice rang out over the plain before him but his demons didn't relent. Trowa fell to his knees
"Are you happy now? Damn, are you?" His fist collided with the earth in a gesture that expressed his complete desperation.
/Over the lies, you'll be strong
You'll be rich in love and you will carry on
But no - Oh no you won't be mine \
When he returned to the circus it was late, almost midnight. Catherine was asleep on the couch; Trowa carried her to bed
"Stupid girl, why do you waste so much energy on me?" he muttered softly
"Cause I love you…stupid" came her sleepy reply. Trowa pulled the covers over her and shut the door behind him. Trowa woke up late the next morning and walked into the tent, taking his place on the wall. Despite his tardiness and the obviously disapproving faces of the others he kept his expression ice cold. "Trowa! What's wrong with you today, you're fidgety, I nearly hit you that time!" Catherine's hand, holding her remaining knives fell to her side.
"It's just that you stayed up too late" Trowa replied walking off.
"But Trowa…we haven't finished" Catherine protested after him, but he was already gone. Trowa's feelings were reprocessed as the war grew in size and more and more people were sucked into it. When everything ruptured they were not excluded. When he saw Quatre again it was under very different circumstances, there were feelings there that kept things from being "normal" the world was changing before their eyes and they were powerless to stop the change that was bound to happen. When it stopped it was all too sudden, there were still too many feelings, the earth was crying, trying to repair herself. Trowa looked out the window at the blue sky and golden sands of the desert before him. He had never noticed its beauty before, though he had been here many times…only this was different, this was a personal visit. When the Winner estate came into view he sighed, he would be forced to lie to Quatre to protect him.
"Trowa!" Quatre ran to him and took his hand "I'm so glad to see you." He didn't let the hand go. After a brief survey of who was around and small talk Quatre's head bowed "listen, I've been thinking about you a lot and-"
Trowa interrupted "you can't"
"What?" Quatre's eyes met his
"Don't say it, please spare me that. " now Trowa was the one to avert his gaze, refusing to look at what he had done. Quatre looked as if he had been slapped, thankfully the awkwardness was avoided due to a knock on the door.
"Quatre! Trowa!" Duo yelled as he threw his arms around Quatre and Trowa in turn. "What's wrong?"
"Why do these annoying people have to be so damn observant?" Trowa thought faking his "everything's cool" face.
"Oh nothing Duo" Quatre replied glancing at Trowa before leading Duo to his room.
"You're the only one who is responsible for what you're feeling now, I'm not involved…I don't feel." Trowa muttered opening the cabinet and running his hand down the side of Quatre's violin.
/Take your straight line for a curve
Make it stretch, the same old line
Try to find if it was worth what you spent
Why you're guilty for the way you're feeling now
It's almost like being free and I know soon you will be \
"Trowa" Quatre opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit room.
"What is it?" Trowa pushed his chair back and stood in front of Quatre. Quatre shut the door behind him.
"About what happened this afternoon." Quatre sat down on the bed.
"Forget it, it was nothing" Trowa turned his back on the blonde boy
"Trowa, its something I need to get out into the open, I can't bear it and let it slowly eat me" Quatre grabbed Trowa's shoulder and turned him around, Trowa was caught again with that expression, so pure.
"Quatre, please" Trowa averted his eyes
"Trowa, I love you" Quatre's eyes caught his again, burning with that expression, for a moment it took Trowa's breath but he recovered, and covered up all he couldn't stand the truth of.
"Don't Quatre, I'm not worth it" Trowa looked directly into those warm eyes with his frozen ones. He let himself be slapped, he could have avoided it if he didn't think he deserved it. He held his hand over the warm spot where Quatre's hand had hit his face and sighed as Quatre walked out. It was all so unsatisfying.
/Over the lies, you'll be strong
You'll be rich in love and you will carry on
But no - Oh no you won't be mine \
Trowa pulled the sand through his fingers in thought, the warm sun beat down on him and he was physically content. He was in total mental turmoil despite his warm outward appearance. He hadn't seen Quatre since last night, he stayed up all night hoping the boy would come back, come back so Trowa could tell him the truth, but it was no good. This evening Trowa was going back to the circus, no use staying here and inflicting more pain on Quatre then was necessary.
"Trowa, please stay a little longer" Quatre begged nearly void of all feeling, he was quite a good actor. He took Trowa's hands and bid him farewell; his eyes still looked so pure. Once Trowa was back in his world of performances and gray street corners he was content. He ran his hand down the black case until his fingers rested on the clasps, he snapped both open and opened it, removing the instrument and putting it together slowly and deliberately. For a moment he hesitated at his lips but soon relented and let himself sink into the music Catherine set down her knitting to listen, she hadn't heard Trowa play for ages. Trowa let his problems flow out with the music and the air that fueled it, he relented as darkness came upon them. He rested his chin on the windowsill and whispered softly to himself "beautiful."
/Take yourself out to the curb Sit and wait
A fool for life it's almost like a disease
I know soon you will be \
The next morning Trowa woke early and went out to the tent, he climbed the tall ladder that led to the tightrope. He pulled himself up to the platform and grabbed his right foot, rubbing it a little; he did the same with the left and stepped up onto the cord. He blocked all other thoughts from his mind as he focused on balancing himself, before he knew it he was halfway across it, he stopped and blinked, admiring the quiet stillness of the empty tent. Something broke the stillness; it was Quatre, standing vacantly on the platform.
"What are you doing here?" Trowa asked, turning to face Quatre and righting his balance.
"Oh, I was in the neighborhood and I thought I'd stop by…what do you think? I came here to see you!" Quatre smiled.
"I thought I told you, this can't work out." Trowa took a backward step
"You were lying, you want it to work out…oh do be careful." Quatre cocked his head to the side and an expression of worry crossed his face.
"Quatre, try to understand…we can't, this can't work out" Trowa took another backwards step. Quatre stepped onto the tightrope.
"Tell me the truth, Trowa, don't think about how it will work out…just tell me the truth. Do you love me?" Quatre took another shaky step toward him and Trowa bit his lip nervously. He sighed; his lies were going to hurt them both a lot. Trowa's eyes went downcast, and in one swift movement he killed them both.
"No…no I don't" Trowa lifted his eyes as Quatre descended the ladder in tears. Trowa took another step backward, you could argue that he wanted to fall.
/Over the lies, you'll be strong
You'll be rich in love and you will carry on
But no - Oh no you won't be mine \