Title: A Constant Reminder
Pairings: Trowa/Quatre
Summary: Trowa has a small reminder as to why he continues to live in a time where death seems so inevitable.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Gundam series, so you can't sue me. Not that you'd get much, anyway...
Warnings: Ah, nothing much. Shounen Ai, perhaps?
AN: Well, I suppose I should start by saying this is my first attempt at writing fanfiction, though I have lurked around the fanfiction community like a shadow for quite a while. I'm somewhat up to date with the ins and outs of the fanfiction world. I have written stories before, but none that will see the light of day anytime soon. Short stories are my forte, drabbles even better – I lack the attention span to concentrate on writing one novel length story. Admiration towards those who can.
Reviews would be nice (but I won't demand them – it's entirely up to you, the reader), flames are expected (I really don't care if I get flames, BTW) and advice is always good. It's the only way I will improve; but piss me off and expect a war. Yup, just a warning. Don't worry, I'm not that bad.
Ah, well, I hope you give this thing a chance, either way.
Nothing in life was certain.
Cliché? Yes, but then again, the truth often was.
However, that didn't stop Trowa from trying to find stability in this life. He had first thought he found it with his sister, Catherina, or Cathy as he liked to call her. But fate took him down a different road and no matter how far he ventured, their paths would always cross; nothing the two of them could do about it...nothing they wanted to do about it.
Quatre Raberba Winner.
Even to this day, Trowa could remember their first meeting as though it was only yesterday. He didn't say a word upon first glance, but Quatre heard him speak none-the-less. A partnership, if one could use that word, was formed that very moment and in spite of himself, a close friendship soon followed.
Through the war, Trowa was content to die on the battlefield, fulfilling his duty as a Gundam Pilot. It was his fate, his destiny.
But everything changed; swiftly may it be added, during Operation Meteor. He could feel Quatre was in pain and he knew he had to find him, get to him. His mission didn't matter, he had to find Quatre and he would stay alive, come hell or high water.
His objective changed in that instant, and yet felt natural. His had a new meaning; protect Quatre.
It was in that moment as well did he come to the abrupt realization that Quatre was no longer a friend...he was more.
Quatre become his will of life. His everything, his Little One he had nicknamed him.
Their first kiss was soft and slow, and he had moved on instinct. First, a mere pressing of the lips, no pressure and no sense of enforcement, allowing Quatre plenty of opportunity to pull away if he did not wish to experience something so affectionate with him. But Quatre stayed still, making no movement other then curling his fingers tighter upon his clothing. The expression of adoration lingered as they seemed to seek comfort within each other, two likeminded beings Duo so often teased them.
As he pulled away, Quatre kept a firm hold of his shirt and gazed into his eyes with a sense of relief and gratitude before moving forward and resting his cheek upon his chest, pushing himself into his arms. Trowa, of course, could never deny the shorter male anything so wrapped his arms around him, resting his chin upon his hair.
Their relationship grew from that point onwards and despite the threat that they could be separated swiftly amongst the hardships of war, they were not looking back.
In a moment of complacency, he had his name tattooed across his wrist. A risky thing to do, he was well aware of that, knowing that if he ever became captured by the enemy, his Little One will be implemented in his life, hence his life would be placed further at risk.
Despite all the negatives of his act, he felt that he had to get it done. Looking down at his wrist, seeing Quatre's name sprawled across his flesh, it reminded him of why he had to stay alive at all cost, what he was living for and what his once uncertain future now held for him once they gain peace.
All the trails and hardships he was experiencing with his fellow Gundam Pilots seemed worth it when he had a future by Quatre's side to look forward to.
Trowa could never, ever do something to hurt the gentle young man. Quatre once confessed to him once that if anything should happen to him that he would die as well.
No way...
There was no way Trowa was going to allow that to happen. If his purpose was to stay alive so Quatre would, then so be it.
Thinking about his Little One was keeping the realization that he was in severe pain away from his senses. He could smell the smoke as it leaked into the cockpit of his damaged Gundam, could hear the exploding ammunition around him and feel the sickly warm sensation (blood, most likely) dripping from his forehead to drive a blazing trail down his cheek, yet paid them no mind. And even though his eye sight was fading, from the loss of blood, he realised, he could not tear his eyes away from his wrist.
Quatre...
He was no going to die. He refused to die, especially upon the same battlefield as his love. He would not burden Quatre by seeing him die, his death haunting him for the rest of his life...
...Just like how he was haunted when he thought he killed him in the Wing Zero.
Light abruptly invaded his sight, causing a reaction of swiftly shutting of his eyes from the stinging glare. The light soon faded as a silhouette blocked the Sun's rays; strangled breathing and a rapid heart rate filled his hearing.
"Trowa!"
Quatre?
"Trowa, can you hear me?"
His voice was always soothing and pleasant, even as the sounds of war continued to erupt around them both.
Eyes opened and focused upon the lithe silhouette, the image of light blond-hair, slightly messy from strenuous movement and elegant eyes of emerald quickly form in his sight and Trowa felt a sense of relief.
Quatre wasn't hurt; covered with only a thin layer of harmless soot and dirt.
Thank goodness...
"Quatre..." Trowa formed his name easily as a sense of pride was felt when Quatre's expression brightened considerably.
Quatre dragged the palm of his hand over his face in effort to wipe aside his crystalline tears, but merely succeeded in spreading the soot further across his delicate features. However, despite the smudges of dirt and grime, his mesmerizing emerald green eyes shimmered with concern, yet abundant with relief.
"Are you alright, Trowa?" he asked as he tried his hardest to keep the emotions out of his tone, but failed none-the-less.
Trowa find himself unable to reply right away, his deep and wise forest green eyes peering up at the fragile blonde through the dark brown tresses. Slowly, a smile presented itself upon his lips; genuine and filled with reassurance. As he lifted his hand, his gazed softened when Quatre held his hand tightly within his own, his slender fingers curling effortlessly around his.
"Trowa?"
"Yes, little one," he replied as he reached forward to touch his fingertips to this angel's cheek. "I'm fine."
A half sob passed from Quatre's lips as he nuzzled his cheek against Trowa's palm before slipping into the damaged Gundam and throwing his arms around Trowa's neck, uncaring of the blood from his head wound. And it didn't bother Trowa either.
Wrapping his arms around his lover's lithe frame, Trowa glanced down at his wrist once more, the black ink stark against his pale skin.
Yes, this was his reason for living now.
"Don't leave me, Trowa," Quatre whispered against his shoulder.
"I will never leave you, Quatre. Never."
