The Other Woman
witfulbastard
Length: One-shot
Setting: A/U
Inspiration: Rihanna's "Take a Bow"
Rating: M
Genre: Romance/Drama
Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Gundam Wing.
A moan erupted from her pink swollen lips, loud and long. He shushed her by closing over her soft mouth with his dry lips. The satin sheets wrapped around his legs. The white sheets stained by dry sweat.
"It's late." She managed to make those words escape her gasping mouth. Her blue eyes opened forcefully, unwillingly, her eyelids heavy with sleep. His fingers purposefully drifted to her lips. Silencing her, a glint from his gold band, returned her voice. "Stop." A simple command, spoken softly. Frozen, he simply nodded, but not before capturing her lips again, leaving her breathless. Rapidly collecting his clothes, he glanced back to the woman he just made love to. Walking out the door, she heard a quiet curse as he sprinted out of the house. A frown graced her pink lips before her head rested on the light blue lace adorned pillow.
The night sky did not shine tonight. The moon, the stars and the brilliant glow of the night hid behind dark storm clouds. A flash of lightening far away illuminated the black car's occupant. A man with brown hair and blue steel eyes. His face was set in stone; his eyes were clouded and bright. His hands gripped the leather steering wheel as tight as he could manage. A curve on the road was up ahead. He slammed his brakes and tugged the wheel right, spinning the car wildly and finally the tires squealed with fear on the asphalt. The vehicle sped through the traffic, weaving in through family vans and luxury vehicles alike.
A minute blinked by on the bright red clock on the dashboard. One more minute of agony, one more word of discontent. Verbal frustration was lost as he merely resorted to punch the face of the visual reminder of clear mistake. The clock blinked in response and merely added another minute to his torture.
The house came into view as another flash revealed an open window, the curtains dancing lightly in the breeze. He revved up the driveway; the car hit the concrete with a thud. As quickly as he could manage, he shut off the car and stepped out. In the dark night, the curtains continued to dance, mocking his timing. The windows glowed with soft lighting. He treaded through the moist grass, acquiring green stains on his black pants. Attempting to disguise his wrinkled clothes, he patted harshly down and did nothing to escape the effect of his escapade. Her scent still waded into his nostrils as he smelled his shirt, cursing again; he approached the excessively large stained oak door. Surprisingly, the door was ajar and he smelled the work of great chef.
Hesitation slowed his movements, as he pushed the great oak door open. It creaked his welcome. Inside a soft constant patting noise ceased. He stepped inside his home and smelled the rose fraganced air accompanied with roasted savory meat. An old grandfather clock gave him a clear message as it rang loudly twelve times. Each ring more agonizing than the last. With the final tone lost to dead air, a blonde woman stepped into the doorway between the entrance hall and the dining room. The light behind her created a silhouette. Her eyes, blue, cold and watering, pierced his heart as he took a step towards her.
She retreated into the dining room, her heels, clicking on the black tile floor. Entering the lighted room, he saw her more clearly. She was dressed in a beautiful deep red gown. Tight straps of lace held onto her shoulders, as they glided down to her midsection. Tightly curved, the dress hugged her immensely. Breath taking as the view was, he didn't dare stare too long. Another image haunted his mind. Her laughter filled his ears.
She sat in a dark blue cushioned chair, the metal frame slid on the floor. A large steak knife laid innocently on the table became a menace in her delicate manicured hands. She handled it lightly, as if it were merely a pen. Her eyes did not meet his, but a lone tear fell to the beige cotton table cloth. Her fingers gripped the knife handle and stabbed in his direction.
"You were late, Heero." The words held no emotion but contempt. "Again." She added.
Before he could think about his words, they escaped naturally. "I was working late." He simply stated, as if that single line explained his tardiness. She managed a false laugh before standing up, her height almost reaching Heero's. She still held steadfast to the glinting knife. It's sharp edge pointed as his heart.
"I called your office. Several times in fact." She smiled, advancing towards him slowly, calculating. "They said you had left early for the day." A deer caught in the middle of the road as an eighteen wheeler sped towards him, his eyes still remained calm. He said nothing. Nor moved an inch.
Her foot slid in between his, she lifted the knife and caressed his cheek, trailing down his neck. She whispered into his ear. "You were with her, weren't you?" She inhaled as she held the knife closer to his neck. "I can smell her on you." He didn't flinch. He did not deny her statement.
Glancing sideways, he merely replied. "You're crazy." His voice low and came out as a growl. She smiled again. She teased the blade of the knife against the fragile skin of his neck.
"No, my dear husband. I was once ignorant, but never crazy." She purred into his ear. "Leave." A simple sentence. He didn't move as the blade was removed from his proximity. "I said leave!" She shouted, dropping the knife to the black tiled floor. It pang and thudded softly. He said nothing. His eyes locked on the now chipped tile floor.
As he took his slow steps, his back to her, a small projectile collided to his back. Slowly, the man in the black shirt turned and dropped to the floor, picking up the hateful item.The classy cut diamond did not glitter nor bear its reflective shine to him. He turned it in his hand, studying the gold band extensively. "I love her." His declaration echoed through the dining room. "I always will." A sniffle was heard; the woman's eyes filled with more tears. Her red eyes sad, her body angry at him.
She quickly walked past him, as an after thought, she turned around and with angry tear filled eyes, she slapped her hand across his face.
A loud smack resonated in his ears. A forlorn look of shock and relief washed into his eyes. "You're a bastard." Her voice said before she climbed up to the wooden stairs. Halfway up the rug covered stairs, she spoke loudly. "Don't bother returning." She continued her trek up the stairs, her hips swaying, her natural curled locks of hair bouncing hauntingly.
He nodded and remained standing as the wife he once had, stomped to their once shared bedroom, slamming the door. He looked down again at the ring in his fingers, matching his own on his ring finger. He set the crystal beauty on the dining room table, setting the nearly threatening knife next to it. He let out a small sigh and removed the golden band of external promise next to the forgotten diamond. Staring at the two bands together, a past memory dared surface. The image of his wife in a beautiful white dressed invaded his mind. She smiled at him and he laughed, he kissed her passionately. That was many years ago. Suffocating his thoughts, he slowly took his last steps towards the door. Never looking back. Never stopping.
The dark blonde queen breathed lightly in her sleep. He stepped through her unlocked bedroom door. Water dripped from his chocolate brown hair to his grass stained black pants. The storm left a reminder on his face as well. She awoke lightly to a flash from her window. Casting the room in white light, she saw the man in her room. She smirked and rolled on her side. The black night gown tugged closer to her body. The white satin sheets reeked from their earlier rumble. Despite that, he approached her.
"You came back." Surprise crept into her every words. Her voice remained soft. He smiled a bit, draping off his buttoned shirt. He proceeded to discard his black pants, as well. Leaving only a pair of gray boxers on his damp chiseled body. He sat on the bed.
He lurched over the woman. "I love you, Relena." She smiled as he leaned down to kiss her. The first guilt-free kiss he had ever given her.
This is my first published story. If I succeeded in deceiving you, I am glad. Heero is always written as the home-wrecker, I decided to write him differently. All criticisms are welcome.
witfulbastard