Touch & Go
[ () = character's thoughts]
The dismal sky seemed to have lingered on forever. When things worsened for her, it just had to burst into a raging fury. It was a cold, drizzly rain, and the amount was about enough to dampen the streets. However, it seemed to have saturated her body and soul.
As the winter storm kept its pace, she walked on the lonely streets without an umbrella. She didn't care if she caught a cold, for
the torment stacking inside her was already a severe infection. Ever since her father and grandfather's death, she kept wondering about her life. She was a war-torn child ripped from her innocence, and became a woman who has to live with the scars from the past.
("What's wrong with me? Why can't I cry anymore?") Every emotion she felt when she thought about the past swirled
into a rainbow of pain that went with her. She became quite depressed over it too, but was never able to free the torment though tears.
("My whole family...gone...but...him...he's so much like my father...and now I have no family...yet, I can't feel that way...") When she recollected the events on Libra, the one that stood out the most was the decisive fencing match that determined if machine was more powerful than the human soul. She was the victor, but before he collapsed, he said that she was much more kinder that himself. From there, she stopped on the sidewalk, clenched her fist and looked to the sky, letting the rain become her tears...
***
Quatre Raberba Winner let his wine-colored umbrella unfold in the rain. He turned around and looked at his mansion, and walked away sighing. He had to take care of the family company, and he didn't bask in the position's importance all too much. Quatre wondered about the welfare of his friends. He knew that everyone split up for their personal reasons, but he really wasn't sure of what he wanted to do after that. He wondered each passing day about what was missing in
his life.
("Everyone's finally relaxing and healing their scars of war...speaking of which, I wonder what she's up to now...")
As he walked in the rain, visions of Libra danced in his head. He kept thinking about her, but not in the way most guys think
about a special someone. Quatre wasn't even paying attention to the drenched figure who stood a few feet away from him...
***
Her hair that swept across her face was now attached to it as dampened locks. She didn't like standing around forever, but leaned against the wall of a nearby store still gazing into the sky. Her clothes were completely stained with rain, and she knew she would get a bad case of hypothermia if she didn't find something warm to wear.
Then, an umbrella covered her horizon, "Do you intend on purposely catching a cold, Dorothy?"
She immediately snapped from her thoughts and stared at Quatre's smiling face, "Of all places, Quatre Raberba Winner, you just had to be here, didn't you?"
"All I wanted to do was get some fresh air," He answered, "and in the process, I happened to run into you."
Dorothy casted her face down, "Please leave me."
"You do want a bad cold, then?"
Her face curled into a growl, "It's nothing of your concern! Just leave me!"
"Dorothy," He laid a hand on her shoulder, "if you have a problem, you should get it off of your chest. After all, I won't tell anyone."
"As I said before, it's not of your concern, Quatre!" She scolded, shoving his hand off her shoulder, and ran away.
Quatre stood in the distance, "She's an awfully lonely girl..."
***
She ran off from him, escaping his kindness. The kindness she loathed since the Libra incident.
("You're too kind, kinder than me even...") Were his words.
Dorothy skidded to a halt, "Why? Why did he say that? He doesn't even know the first thing about me!" She looked into a puddle that had formed at her feet, "Who is this person...."
She felt the pain quite deeply, but couldn't release it at all. Dorothy collapsed on her trembling knees into the small puddle, further saturating her clothes. She felt a cough and sneeze coming along, and didn't succeed in stifling them. They kept coming at an incredible rate, and knew she'd pushed herself too far.
"Quatre..." Then the world slowly faded.
***
"Dorothy? You're awake?"
The pain in her head kept pulsating when her eyes opened. Her clothes were sitting on a fluffy chair near a welcoming fire. She felt as if she couldn't breathe, for her throat, chest--and her body--burned with a glutted nose
.
"Quatre?" Her voice was hoarse and weak, "How...?"
He sat at the edge of her bed, "You've got a sinus infection and the flu. Don't talk too much, and rest."
"Why am I here?"
Quatre smiled, "Silly, I couldn't let you wither away on a rainy street."
"I'd rather there than anyplace else," She stood upright and coughed. "What's with you?"
"Like I said, I wasn't going to leave you on the street," he said, stroking the hair off her face. "You were about to cry just before
you left me standing there like an idiot, and-"
Dorothy couldn't hold it any longer, "I'm sorry!" She collapsed into his arms and began sobbing into his shoulder, "I'm sorry, Quatre!"
"Dorothy?"
"What I really wanted, and the reason I couldn't cry for my pain was because I hate crying onto myself," She explained. "I'm sorry! You've been kind to me ever since Libra, and I failed to appreciate that! Please
forgive me..."
In return, he embraced her warmly as she freed the pain from within, "What's past is past, Dorothy; no need to apologize...I
completely understand."
"What?"
"Our fathers were killed because of the war," He explained, gently wiping the tears from her face, "and because of your grandfather's loving war, you weren't able to grieve. So," Quatre gripped her tighter, "go ahead and cry...as much as you need to."
She was literally speechless, ("Quatre...") After more silent tears fell, Dorothy melted in his arms.
"Thanks," was all she said as she returned his gesture.
Stroking her hair, he smiled and untangled himself from her, "No problem."
She wasn't sure where to go from there, but as he stroked her cheek and lightly kissed her forehead, Dorothy had an idea of what was to happen. When she felt another one of her fever's painful waves envelop her, Quatre's face was only a few centimeters away from hers. His hand snaked around her neck as he whispered, "Aishiteru, Dorothy..."
Her eyes widened, but on the verge of sleep she managed to answer, "Aishiteru, Quatre..."
Then, Dorothy fell asleep in Quatre's arms, knowing that she was finally at peace.
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