Hot Chocolate
Pairings: That's for me to know and you to find out.
Disclaimers: Gw doesn't belong to me. Don't sue. If
you do sue, please at least leave me my insanity.
****************************************************
I sighed contentedly and leaned back in my chair,
taking a sip of my steaming cup of cocoa. Snugly
wrapped up in my warm blanket, I sat on the worn but
soft couch in the living room of the new safehouse
doing nothing more than nursing my cup of hot
chocolate. The power had been knocked out by the
thunderstorm raging outside a few minutes ago, so there
was nothing left to do but enjoy the weather the
old-fashioned way, which, of course was with hot
chocolates and marshmallows.
I stared into the fire crackling in the stone
fireplace, watching the red and orange figures contort
and twist around each other in a strange, fluid dance.
The rain beat on the roof in rhythmic, conforting
patterns. The effect was extremely relaxing. Only one
thing could make the night better, I mused while idly
swirling my cocoa before taking another cautious sip.
He walked into the room right then. To anyone else,
the look on his face *was* death. But I'd know better
than anyone; I'm the self-proclaimed death, aren't I?
He was clearly more irritated than angry, I saw after
a moment. I didn't think he'd kill anyone, least of all
me. Most likely he was just having a hissy fit
because his computer crashed or something in the power
outage and he'd forgotten to save.
He glared at me, waiting for me to say something.
Pounce on him, maybe. I wasn't in the mood.
"If you want cocoa, there's some left in the pot.
You'll have to stir it a bit if you don't want a sugar
high." I returned my gaze back to the fireplace and
my thoughts inward.
He just looked at me for a minute, probably analyzing
the situation with that lightning quick mind of his.
There are many things I don't understand about him.
How he can turn something as trivial as whether he
wants to get a cup of hot cocoa into complex calculus
equations, for one.
But after a moment he moved to the kitchen without a
word to me. I heard him shuffling around, searching
for a mug then pouring some of the hot liquid for
himself. Then he came back out and sat on the couch
beside me, to my vague surprise. The mood was too
relaxing to get overexcited about anything, even if
the man of my dreams was sitting next to me, our
bodies practically touching. I said nothing and
continued to hold my mug, taking the occasional sip.
I don't know what I was thinking then, but I suddenly
sighed softly and leaned against him, resting my head
on his shoulder. It felt right, somehow, even though I
knew it shouldn't. He stiffened up immediately, but he
didn't try to jerk away. Gradually he relaxed, until
his body posture became nearly as mellow as mine. I
took it as a good sign that he was loosening up for
once.
After a minute, I pulled away and resumed staring into
my mug, watching the white foam swirl on the surface.
"Have you ever fallen in love, Heero?" Yes, I know.
The question was completely random. But my thoughts
happened to be scattered and random, as well, and that
happened the first thing to be relayed from my brain
to my mouth.
He nodded, slowly. I didn't expect him to elaborate,
but I guess I'd caught him in an open mood. "Once.
Only once, but it was enough." He looked down at the
mug of hot chocolate he held in his hands, his
expression unreadable. He didn't drink it, just
stared as if trying to see his reflection in the murky
liquid. After a few moments of silence, he spoke
again. "Love is an irrational, selfish thing, isn't
it?"
I shrugged halfheartedly. "I wouldn't call it selfish.
Some say that love is the least selfish thing in the
world. As for the irrational part, that's true, at
least."
He shook his head. "Love is a selfish thing, all
right." He didn't explain. I didn't consider asking
him to. Instead of pursuing the subject, like I
normally would have, I asked him the next thing
hovering on my mind.
"Have you ever wished for someone you couldn't have?
Ever just dreamed that you could spend the rest of your
life with that person, knowing that you couldn't?"
He nodded again. He raised his head and met my eyes
for a second. An electric shock ran though me, then
it was over and he was staring into his mug again. I
could almost imagine the barest flicker of desparation
lurking in those colbalt eyes. Almost.
The next few words were a whisper. "I know the feeling
all too well."
I nodded, my heart sinking. "Relena?"
He flinched, and my hopes plummeted furthur. If the
mere mention of her name could make him flinch as if
in pain, the depth of his emotion for her was probably
more than I could understand. Very few things could
make him flinch; and emtional troubles were one of
them. I had no doubts that Heero was a person more
complex than the machine appearance he presented to
the world; he just kept the things special to him
buried deep, where the bastard doctors couldn't get to
them. If the girl had walked past his barriers, then
I didn't have a chance. Not that I had much of one
anyways, even without the competition.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed
it as he abruptly changed his mind. If he didn't want
to talk about her, it was fine with me. I didn't want
to talk about her, either. I'd be better off if I
didn't twist the knife into the wound any furthur.
We sat in silence. I didn't know what he was thinking,
but I was mourning the death of the tiny hope I'd kept
alive that he might even consider me. He probably
didn't want anyone but her. Well, once again
Relena-sama got what she wanted. I didn't know if she
understood how valuable the heart of the young man
sitting next to me really was, but she'd won it, fair
and square. Not that Heero's heart was a prize in a
game, but sometimes it felt that way. A game with
the odds stacked against me, that is.
I put down the mug. I'd already drained the contents,
and toying with it would have just made me look
nervous. Which I wasn't. I picked at the end of my
braid, instead, to occupy my hands.
"Have you?"
The question caught me off guard. I hadn't expected
him to initiate conversation, and I certainly wasn't
prepared for it. So I said the most intelligent thing
I could, under the circumstances.
"Huh?"
He looked at me, not really seeing me, I thought.
Maybe he was imagining her face superimposed on mine.
"Ever wished for someone that you couldn't have..?"
I nodded soberly. My next statement was for him,
whether he knew it or not.
"Yes, I have...I know that it's useless pining, but
I just can't help it, you know? I know that they'll
never love me back, but..."
At this point I broke down. Having him there, just
listening to me talk about him but not knowing it, was
laughable. Every word I'd uttered about love had been
about him, for him. But him being there, so close,
yet so far, was unbearable.
He didn't do anything, just watched as I struggled to
stop crying. Boys don't cry, I kept reminding myself.
It worked, but the bitter feeling was still there.
It always stayed, even after the worst was over.
I wiped my eyes, feeling like a fool. He probably
thought even less of me now. I glanced at him through
now-puffy red eyes. He looked uncomfortable, as if he
didn't know what he should do. He probably didn't.
Heero never really knew how to deal with emotions.
Courtesy of Dr. J. Someday I'd kill the bastard.
Slowly, tentatively, he reached out and softly brushed
his fingers along my face, and gently tilted my chin
upwards so that we were face to face. I don't think
I ever remember being this surprised. What did he
think he was doing? His blue eyes, usually ice-cold,
were unusually warm. I couldn't help but hope the
warmth was for me.
"Some girl, huh?" His tone was casual, but I could
see a tiny flicker of hope in his eyes. But then
again, I had an hyperactive imgination. Maybe I was
just out of it, I guess.
"Girl...? What girl?" I had no idea what he was
talking about. He pulled his hand away, letting it
drop onto his lap.
When he spoke again, his tone was almost kind. "I
meant that it must be some extraordinary girl, for you
to get this worked up over." He dropped his eyes to
his still-warm mug. He murmured, almost to himself,
"She must be special enough to know how lucky she is."
I shot him a sharp glance. He appeared to be still
concentrating on his chocolate, but I was sure he was
watching me very carefully. Not because I'd done
anything abnormal, you see, but just because it was one
of his habits that he'd picked up in childhood. I
didn't know if he was deliberately avoiding my gaze,
but he didn't meet my eyes after that, as if he was
ashamed of something. That could be my overactive
imagination talking, but I suddenly wasn't sure.
Was it just the glow of firelight playing over his
face, or was he blushing?
I shrugged. "I guess you could say so. But I don't
think I'll ever tell her. She wouldn't want me."
That was deliberate. I was baiting the hook, testing
whether he saw me as more than a friend. I wondered
if he would just take the easy way out and play dense,
or maybe give me an honorable rejection. I snickered
silently to myself. I sounded like Wufei. Maybe I'd
been spending too much time around the guy.
The silence stretched on even longer than it had
before. I didn't know if he was considering his
reply or had just decided that nothing needed to be
said.
Finally, he said, "I know the feeling." He put his
hand on mine then. He'd surprised me no less than
five times in this evening alone. He'd opened up to
me like no one before, or at least that's what I
thought. Getting him to talk, even about Relena, was
a blessing.
I entwined my fingers in his, feeling the steady pulse
in his wrist. Yet there was nothing but friendship
in the gesture. He was comforting me about my
troubles about him. It was funny, in a strange way.
Maybe there was irony in it somewhere, but I was
enjoying his hand in mine too much to think about it.
I whispered, "Relena's wonderful, isn't she? She's got
the high and mighty perfect soldier dreaming of her
day and night." I looked into his eyes. "She loves
you as much as you do her, Heero. Tell her. It'll
make you both much happier." //And I'll try to be
happy if you're happy.//
He shook his head, sadly. I looked at him wonderingly,
but he didn't say anything.
I was being a hypocrite. Here I was telling Heero to
go and admit his feelings, but I was too afraid to
tell him how *I* felt. The realization didn't help
much. I knew the possible scenarios. He'd tell me,
with pity in his eyes, that he just didn't feel the
same. Then he'd run into the arms of the little blond
bitch and they'd get married and live happily ever
after and have a dozen brats. Just like in the
storybooks. Or he could recoil from me in horror and
never speak to me again. At worst, he could hurt me.
It was his way of dealing with things--or rather,
people--that he didn't know what to do with. Don't
get me wrong, I'm not saying he's sadistic. Just that
he really knows so little of the real world that he
just can't deal with some things.
He took a deep breath and said, "Duo..." He stopped.
I think he'd changed his mind at the last second about
whatever he was going to say. I wanted to say, What?
Are you two engaged already? Do you want me to be your
best man? If I'd tried, I probably would have ended
up crying again. If I'd ever had a weak spot, it was
where Heero was concerned. I just couldn't control
myself, sometimes, when he was around. I couldn't
help but wonder, a little angrily, if he knew and was
just enjoying seeing me in agony. But then, as I'd
said before, Heero isn't sadistic. When he has to
kill people, he does it quickly and efficiently.
To hell with it, I decided. What did I care about
Relena? I couldn't have hated her more, even if she
wasn't the object of his affections. She was a
psychotic stalker, and maybe someday I'd have her
nailed for it. It's illegal in all fifty states, you
know.
I really didn't have to help her. If he loved her
enough, Heero'd tell her himself, without my egging
him on. Maybe I had a morbid fascination about
watching my own blood bubble out as I poked the knife
in deeper. It was what I was doing, after all.
He shifted and removed his hand. It was getting
sweaty, anyways. He looked like he was lost in
thought. I supressed another wave of jealousy.
Thinking of her, no doubt.
The fire was dying, making its last feeble sparks
before extinguishing nearly completely. The remains of
the log smoldered and glowed brightly, casting dancing
shadows onto his face.
"Who is she?" He tried to look unconcerned, but if I
looked at him from the right angle, I could almost
convince myself that he looked a little worried, maybe
jealous.
I fidgeted, toyed with the end of my braid, trying to
decide whether or not to tell him. "I was lying to
you. No, more like misleading you." I don't lie, and
I don't think I ever will, not to him. "There is no
girl." I stood up, suddenly uncomfortable. I had to
move. I had to pace, get rid of some of the nervous
energy.
He looked a little disappointed, then became angry.
In a deceptively soft voice, he said, "So have you been
lying about everything you've said tonight?" He said
it in a smooth, uncaring way. As if he didn't care one
way or the other.
He'd opened up to me. He'd said more to me than he'd
every told any living being. And now he thought it had
been all a joke. He didn't know how much the
conversation had meant to me. I could see the fury
that he was probably struggling to hide.
I laughed a little. God, how easy it was to believe
that he was feeling for me exactly the way I felt for
him. I laughed not because it was funny, but because
I didn't have anything else to do. I laughed till
tears trailed down my cheeks.
He rose and slapped me then. I don't know if he
thought I was hysterical, or he just needed to hit
something. But I stopped and glared at him coldly.
He seemed surprised, as if he hadn't meant to do it.
We just stood that way for a while, him clenching and
unclenching his fists.
"Why?" His eyes were ice-cold again.
I smiled, without humor. "Because. Because I love
*you*. There never was a girl. It was you the entire
time." I paused, expecting him to leave, or maybe
blow up. Instead, he looked steadily into my eyes.
The anger was gone. So was all other emotion. I
looked at the ground, waiting for judgement.
"I didn't ask for this, you know. I didn't want this
to happen." His knuckles were turning white from what
I could only guess to be anger. "I didn't ask for you
to fall in love with me."
I nodded. I'd expected this, but it still hurt. I'd
expected the pain, too. Yet my voice shook when I
whispered, "I know."
He turned to leave. I sat down, my head in my hands.
I was such an idiot. Why did I have to go screw
things up like that? We had almost become friends. It
should have been enough for me. Just friends.
He stopped, his back still towards me. He was silent
for a minute, not moving. In a rush, as if he was
forcing the words out as quickly as possible, he
muttered, "I...I never asked to fall in love with you."
I looked up at that, but he was already gone.
Outside, the storm had nearly stopped. The pattering
had slowed and the stars were visible, shinig against
the dark sky. It took me a few minutes to find him.
I'd expected him to be inside, typing away at his
laptop again. Instead, he was outside, head tilted
towards the heavens. The night air was chill, but he
was still in his customary tanktop and spandex.
Without looking at me, he said, "I can't help it."
Couldn't help loving me, he meant. I sat down beside
him.
"Neither can I."
I slipped an arm around his shoulders and together we
sat not talking, just gazing at the stars.
I shifted and tilted his face towards me, just has he
had done earlier. For the first time, I saw tears in
those flawless cobalt eyes. They looked at me in
wonder as I moved in and kissed him, chastely, then
slid shut as he returned the favor.
Owari~
Pairings: That's for me to know and you to find out.
Disclaimers: Gw doesn't belong to me. Don't sue. If
you do sue, please at least leave me my insanity.
****************************************************
I sighed contentedly and leaned back in my chair,
taking a sip of my steaming cup of cocoa. Snugly
wrapped up in my warm blanket, I sat on the worn but
soft couch in the living room of the new safehouse
doing nothing more than nursing my cup of hot
chocolate. The power had been knocked out by the
thunderstorm raging outside a few minutes ago, so there
was nothing left to do but enjoy the weather the
old-fashioned way, which, of course was with hot
chocolates and marshmallows.
I stared into the fire crackling in the stone
fireplace, watching the red and orange figures contort
and twist around each other in a strange, fluid dance.
The rain beat on the roof in rhythmic, conforting
patterns. The effect was extremely relaxing. Only one
thing could make the night better, I mused while idly
swirling my cocoa before taking another cautious sip.
He walked into the room right then. To anyone else,
the look on his face *was* death. But I'd know better
than anyone; I'm the self-proclaimed death, aren't I?
He was clearly more irritated than angry, I saw after
a moment. I didn't think he'd kill anyone, least of all
me. Most likely he was just having a hissy fit
because his computer crashed or something in the power
outage and he'd forgotten to save.
He glared at me, waiting for me to say something.
Pounce on him, maybe. I wasn't in the mood.
"If you want cocoa, there's some left in the pot.
You'll have to stir it a bit if you don't want a sugar
high." I returned my gaze back to the fireplace and
my thoughts inward.
He just looked at me for a minute, probably analyzing
the situation with that lightning quick mind of his.
There are many things I don't understand about him.
How he can turn something as trivial as whether he
wants to get a cup of hot cocoa into complex calculus
equations, for one.
But after a moment he moved to the kitchen without a
word to me. I heard him shuffling around, searching
for a mug then pouring some of the hot liquid for
himself. Then he came back out and sat on the couch
beside me, to my vague surprise. The mood was too
relaxing to get overexcited about anything, even if
the man of my dreams was sitting next to me, our
bodies practically touching. I said nothing and
continued to hold my mug, taking the occasional sip.
I don't know what I was thinking then, but I suddenly
sighed softly and leaned against him, resting my head
on his shoulder. It felt right, somehow, even though I
knew it shouldn't. He stiffened up immediately, but he
didn't try to jerk away. Gradually he relaxed, until
his body posture became nearly as mellow as mine. I
took it as a good sign that he was loosening up for
once.
After a minute, I pulled away and resumed staring into
my mug, watching the white foam swirl on the surface.
"Have you ever fallen in love, Heero?" Yes, I know.
The question was completely random. But my thoughts
happened to be scattered and random, as well, and that
happened the first thing to be relayed from my brain
to my mouth.
He nodded, slowly. I didn't expect him to elaborate,
but I guess I'd caught him in an open mood. "Once.
Only once, but it was enough." He looked down at the
mug of hot chocolate he held in his hands, his
expression unreadable. He didn't drink it, just
stared as if trying to see his reflection in the murky
liquid. After a few moments of silence, he spoke
again. "Love is an irrational, selfish thing, isn't
it?"
I shrugged halfheartedly. "I wouldn't call it selfish.
Some say that love is the least selfish thing in the
world. As for the irrational part, that's true, at
least."
He shook his head. "Love is a selfish thing, all
right." He didn't explain. I didn't consider asking
him to. Instead of pursuing the subject, like I
normally would have, I asked him the next thing
hovering on my mind.
"Have you ever wished for someone you couldn't have?
Ever just dreamed that you could spend the rest of your
life with that person, knowing that you couldn't?"
He nodded again. He raised his head and met my eyes
for a second. An electric shock ran though me, then
it was over and he was staring into his mug again. I
could almost imagine the barest flicker of desparation
lurking in those colbalt eyes. Almost.
The next few words were a whisper. "I know the feeling
all too well."
I nodded, my heart sinking. "Relena?"
He flinched, and my hopes plummeted furthur. If the
mere mention of her name could make him flinch as if
in pain, the depth of his emotion for her was probably
more than I could understand. Very few things could
make him flinch; and emtional troubles were one of
them. I had no doubts that Heero was a person more
complex than the machine appearance he presented to
the world; he just kept the things special to him
buried deep, where the bastard doctors couldn't get to
them. If the girl had walked past his barriers, then
I didn't have a chance. Not that I had much of one
anyways, even without the competition.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed
it as he abruptly changed his mind. If he didn't want
to talk about her, it was fine with me. I didn't want
to talk about her, either. I'd be better off if I
didn't twist the knife into the wound any furthur.
We sat in silence. I didn't know what he was thinking,
but I was mourning the death of the tiny hope I'd kept
alive that he might even consider me. He probably
didn't want anyone but her. Well, once again
Relena-sama got what she wanted. I didn't know if she
understood how valuable the heart of the young man
sitting next to me really was, but she'd won it, fair
and square. Not that Heero's heart was a prize in a
game, but sometimes it felt that way. A game with
the odds stacked against me, that is.
I put down the mug. I'd already drained the contents,
and toying with it would have just made me look
nervous. Which I wasn't. I picked at the end of my
braid, instead, to occupy my hands.
"Have you?"
The question caught me off guard. I hadn't expected
him to initiate conversation, and I certainly wasn't
prepared for it. So I said the most intelligent thing
I could, under the circumstances.
"Huh?"
He looked at me, not really seeing me, I thought.
Maybe he was imagining her face superimposed on mine.
"Ever wished for someone that you couldn't have..?"
I nodded soberly. My next statement was for him,
whether he knew it or not.
"Yes, I have...I know that it's useless pining, but
I just can't help it, you know? I know that they'll
never love me back, but..."
At this point I broke down. Having him there, just
listening to me talk about him but not knowing it, was
laughable. Every word I'd uttered about love had been
about him, for him. But him being there, so close,
yet so far, was unbearable.
He didn't do anything, just watched as I struggled to
stop crying. Boys don't cry, I kept reminding myself.
It worked, but the bitter feeling was still there.
It always stayed, even after the worst was over.
I wiped my eyes, feeling like a fool. He probably
thought even less of me now. I glanced at him through
now-puffy red eyes. He looked uncomfortable, as if he
didn't know what he should do. He probably didn't.
Heero never really knew how to deal with emotions.
Courtesy of Dr. J. Someday I'd kill the bastard.
Slowly, tentatively, he reached out and softly brushed
his fingers along my face, and gently tilted my chin
upwards so that we were face to face. I don't think
I ever remember being this surprised. What did he
think he was doing? His blue eyes, usually ice-cold,
were unusually warm. I couldn't help but hope the
warmth was for me.
"Some girl, huh?" His tone was casual, but I could
see a tiny flicker of hope in his eyes. But then
again, I had an hyperactive imgination. Maybe I was
just out of it, I guess.
"Girl...? What girl?" I had no idea what he was
talking about. He pulled his hand away, letting it
drop onto his lap.
When he spoke again, his tone was almost kind. "I
meant that it must be some extraordinary girl, for you
to get this worked up over." He dropped his eyes to
his still-warm mug. He murmured, almost to himself,
"She must be special enough to know how lucky she is."
I shot him a sharp glance. He appeared to be still
concentrating on his chocolate, but I was sure he was
watching me very carefully. Not because I'd done
anything abnormal, you see, but just because it was one
of his habits that he'd picked up in childhood. I
didn't know if he was deliberately avoiding my gaze,
but he didn't meet my eyes after that, as if he was
ashamed of something. That could be my overactive
imagination talking, but I suddenly wasn't sure.
Was it just the glow of firelight playing over his
face, or was he blushing?
I shrugged. "I guess you could say so. But I don't
think I'll ever tell her. She wouldn't want me."
That was deliberate. I was baiting the hook, testing
whether he saw me as more than a friend. I wondered
if he would just take the easy way out and play dense,
or maybe give me an honorable rejection. I snickered
silently to myself. I sounded like Wufei. Maybe I'd
been spending too much time around the guy.
The silence stretched on even longer than it had
before. I didn't know if he was considering his
reply or had just decided that nothing needed to be
said.
Finally, he said, "I know the feeling." He put his
hand on mine then. He'd surprised me no less than
five times in this evening alone. He'd opened up to
me like no one before, or at least that's what I
thought. Getting him to talk, even about Relena, was
a blessing.
I entwined my fingers in his, feeling the steady pulse
in his wrist. Yet there was nothing but friendship
in the gesture. He was comforting me about my
troubles about him. It was funny, in a strange way.
Maybe there was irony in it somewhere, but I was
enjoying his hand in mine too much to think about it.
I whispered, "Relena's wonderful, isn't she? She's got
the high and mighty perfect soldier dreaming of her
day and night." I looked into his eyes. "She loves
you as much as you do her, Heero. Tell her. It'll
make you both much happier." //And I'll try to be
happy if you're happy.//
He shook his head, sadly. I looked at him wonderingly,
but he didn't say anything.
I was being a hypocrite. Here I was telling Heero to
go and admit his feelings, but I was too afraid to
tell him how *I* felt. The realization didn't help
much. I knew the possible scenarios. He'd tell me,
with pity in his eyes, that he just didn't feel the
same. Then he'd run into the arms of the little blond
bitch and they'd get married and live happily ever
after and have a dozen brats. Just like in the
storybooks. Or he could recoil from me in horror and
never speak to me again. At worst, he could hurt me.
It was his way of dealing with things--or rather,
people--that he didn't know what to do with. Don't
get me wrong, I'm not saying he's sadistic. Just that
he really knows so little of the real world that he
just can't deal with some things.
He took a deep breath and said, "Duo..." He stopped.
I think he'd changed his mind at the last second about
whatever he was going to say. I wanted to say, What?
Are you two engaged already? Do you want me to be your
best man? If I'd tried, I probably would have ended
up crying again. If I'd ever had a weak spot, it was
where Heero was concerned. I just couldn't control
myself, sometimes, when he was around. I couldn't
help but wonder, a little angrily, if he knew and was
just enjoying seeing me in agony. But then, as I'd
said before, Heero isn't sadistic. When he has to
kill people, he does it quickly and efficiently.
To hell with it, I decided. What did I care about
Relena? I couldn't have hated her more, even if she
wasn't the object of his affections. She was a
psychotic stalker, and maybe someday I'd have her
nailed for it. It's illegal in all fifty states, you
know.
I really didn't have to help her. If he loved her
enough, Heero'd tell her himself, without my egging
him on. Maybe I had a morbid fascination about
watching my own blood bubble out as I poked the knife
in deeper. It was what I was doing, after all.
He shifted and removed his hand. It was getting
sweaty, anyways. He looked like he was lost in
thought. I supressed another wave of jealousy.
Thinking of her, no doubt.
The fire was dying, making its last feeble sparks
before extinguishing nearly completely. The remains of
the log smoldered and glowed brightly, casting dancing
shadows onto his face.
"Who is she?" He tried to look unconcerned, but if I
looked at him from the right angle, I could almost
convince myself that he looked a little worried, maybe
jealous.
I fidgeted, toyed with the end of my braid, trying to
decide whether or not to tell him. "I was lying to
you. No, more like misleading you." I don't lie, and
I don't think I ever will, not to him. "There is no
girl." I stood up, suddenly uncomfortable. I had to
move. I had to pace, get rid of some of the nervous
energy.
He looked a little disappointed, then became angry.
In a deceptively soft voice, he said, "So have you been
lying about everything you've said tonight?" He said
it in a smooth, uncaring way. As if he didn't care one
way or the other.
He'd opened up to me. He'd said more to me than he'd
every told any living being. And now he thought it had
been all a joke. He didn't know how much the
conversation had meant to me. I could see the fury
that he was probably struggling to hide.
I laughed a little. God, how easy it was to believe
that he was feeling for me exactly the way I felt for
him. I laughed not because it was funny, but because
I didn't have anything else to do. I laughed till
tears trailed down my cheeks.
He rose and slapped me then. I don't know if he
thought I was hysterical, or he just needed to hit
something. But I stopped and glared at him coldly.
He seemed surprised, as if he hadn't meant to do it.
We just stood that way for a while, him clenching and
unclenching his fists.
"Why?" His eyes were ice-cold again.
I smiled, without humor. "Because. Because I love
*you*. There never was a girl. It was you the entire
time." I paused, expecting him to leave, or maybe
blow up. Instead, he looked steadily into my eyes.
The anger was gone. So was all other emotion. I
looked at the ground, waiting for judgement.
"I didn't ask for this, you know. I didn't want this
to happen." His knuckles were turning white from what
I could only guess to be anger. "I didn't ask for you
to fall in love with me."
I nodded. I'd expected this, but it still hurt. I'd
expected the pain, too. Yet my voice shook when I
whispered, "I know."
He turned to leave. I sat down, my head in my hands.
I was such an idiot. Why did I have to go screw
things up like that? We had almost become friends. It
should have been enough for me. Just friends.
He stopped, his back still towards me. He was silent
for a minute, not moving. In a rush, as if he was
forcing the words out as quickly as possible, he
muttered, "I...I never asked to fall in love with you."
I looked up at that, but he was already gone.
Outside, the storm had nearly stopped. The pattering
had slowed and the stars were visible, shinig against
the dark sky. It took me a few minutes to find him.
I'd expected him to be inside, typing away at his
laptop again. Instead, he was outside, head tilted
towards the heavens. The night air was chill, but he
was still in his customary tanktop and spandex.
Without looking at me, he said, "I can't help it."
Couldn't help loving me, he meant. I sat down beside
him.
"Neither can I."
I slipped an arm around his shoulders and together we
sat not talking, just gazing at the stars.
I shifted and tilted his face towards me, just has he
had done earlier. For the first time, I saw tears in
those flawless cobalt eyes. They looked at me in
wonder as I moved in and kissed him, chastely, then
slid shut as he returned the favor.
Owari~