Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing
Her aquamarine eyes looked on, unfocussed, as her fingers felt their way through the medium. Her fingertips gently caught the golden silk, manipulating and twisting it into submission. Soft mounds formed under her ministrations, taming the wild beast. Nothing felt as cleansing and taking the river of honey and putting it in order.
Her gaze shot up to her guardian, accusingly. He'd been still, barely breathing, for several minutes, glaring at her hypnotic routine.
"Heero," she said, in a scolding tone. "What are you doing?"
His Prussian blue orbs dropped to look into her own. "Memorizing a pattern."
"A pattern?"
"Right over, under. Left over, under. Right over, under. Left over, under."
Her eyes widened.
"What happens if you change the pattern?"
"Then the hair looks stupid." Something about the idea of changing her pattern made her skin crawl. She would hate to admit she had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but this need to arrange the satin strings bordered on a Compulsion.
"Hn."
"Heero?"
"Hn?"
Her voice cracked under the pressure of a stifled laugh. "Are you telling me that you're standing over my vanity for the soul purpose of learning to braid hair?"
Heero's features turned stern. He closed his eyes and answered her with silence.
"Well," she giggled. "I suppose it will come in handy when you're doing our daughter's hair."
Relena flushed when the joke left her mouth. Granted, it was just a punch line, but they were still young and the subject of her crush was one Heero never allowed to be breached. He knew, but he refused to acknowledge it. Now it was mixed with this joke, and she was praying he wouldn't take it the wrong way.
Heero looked down to study her, again. He saw her embarrassment. He smirked slightly, setting her at ease. "Only when you're working," he replied.