I was thinking about Quatre and Trowa, and well, this is what came of it.
Hatred
I hated Quatre when I first saw him. Feelings stirred inside me that I'd locked away for so long. Hatred, betrayal, anger, loneliness. Compelled by an angel with blond hair and a fierce expression, I stepped out to surrender to another pilot, the first I had seen of others like myself, those who piloted the Gundams. I hated him then, for what he made me feel.
I don't hate him now. When I see him, my heart stirs with the same old emotions. Hatred, betrayal, anger, loneliness… but never hatred or any dark emotion for Quatre, always a lightness and love that astounds me. Sometimes I try to hate him for that, too. But it is impossible.
Even from that moment when I first hated him, Quatre was always there, stirring emotions in me. Always trying to teach, encourage, grow. "Life is learning, Trowa," He told me once, "And you've got to learn to keep going. That's what is important." And another time he told me that giving was better than receiving; one Christmas when I had no gift for him.
He was always giving me things. He gave me new clothes, a flute, a car, a home, and eventually, his heart. He gave me my name, too. When I was wondering what I could be called, and I told him about it, he quietly slipped out and returned later with the announcement that my legal name was now Trowa Barton. He explained that he couldn't imagine calling me anything else.
The greatest gift he ever gave me was myself. My own identity. He taught me how to find it, and led me along the road. Through him, I learnt to smile, to find simple enjoyment in every small thing. I learnt what I liked doing, what made me happy. I learned to love him. Quatre gave me everything. I still hated him for that. But the hate turned to love, and here we are.
He first told me he loved me the night he legalised my name. I was sat polishing my flute, keeping the metal bright. I wasn't thinking about anything in particular, though my eyes were drawn to him. I still thought he looked like an angel, even if I thought I hated him for that. "Trowa," He said softly. I expected him to say something, something natural, anything. Instead, he stammered and couldn't find words.
I watched him in silence. I began to wonder, in that moment, what I would do if he threw me out of his home, if I ever lost his friendship. I waited. And then he gave me the words that have changed my life, which have shaped me and formed me from the mercenary with no identity.
"I love you, Trowa." He said at last, the simple words coming out with difficulty. I had never thought about it, and I didn't think about it then. I just suddenly knew I didn't hate him, never had hated him, and never could.
Quatre has given me everything. He has given me himself, and myself, the powerful beauty of a sunset watched with the one I love. Everything.