A/N- A little vignette I needed to free from my system. No worries I'm still updating "Into your keeping", I simply reached a dry spell. But a new chapter is on it's way soon. This one-shot is a just a little drabble on our princess and her soldier. Enjoy :)
It is said that perhaps even the coldest of body is able to seek warmth. There is a frost of solitude that is unable to escape even the shallow falls of stinging snowflakes, of biting wind and the decadence of submerging in a fury of white. Yet there is much to discovered and so figures persevere. And realize there is solace to be found in the fading of autumn, in the descent of winter.
He asked me to walk with him that day.
The snow was light on the ground and melted quickly. He was silent for a while, his face expressionless, his mood unreadable. I thought perhaps he wished to talk but I could detect nothing. He was so at ease.
We stopped by the fountain that separated the garden from the passageway to a brook. The water was frozen and ice encased the dead vine that encircled it. He turned to me then. His deep sea eyes were earnest and he reached out his hand to thread his fingers through my hair. I didn't understand at that time what his silence meant, what that thoughtful gaze could mean. I could only enjoy the attention, it never occurring to me he was saying goodbye. With him like that, I didn't feel the cold through my coat, my hands were warm in my pockets and my chin nestled in my scarf. Dark brown wisps of his hair hung over his forehead and his cheeks were slightly red. Standing in his black coat against the pale of the day, against the gray and white trees, he was an enigma.
Always had been.
A mystery I followed blindly that always seemed to elude my grasp and my limited, childish understanding.
Heero...he was so much more.
A smile brushed his mouth and he bent his face close. I wanted to feel impatience, even feel even a mild annoyance because of his silence. But Heero never needed words with eyes so ever clear. Even so I felt perhaps I would intrude upon his thoughts, that I would interfere on whatever it was he was trying to convey to me through his hands that pinned me into place. I should've paid closer attention in those moments, should've ventured to ask questions.
But I'm always silent on the things that matter most.
Maybe it was my unwillingness to wish him to change, that punished me.
For once again, he left without a word.
In the collapse of the desert of white, there lay a simple leaf of green. Stark in contrast against the melting of the remaining evidence of months of cold silence. Curious eyes peer from secret depths and clear torrents wash away the scent of nature subdued. Whispering sparks of growth are a subtle reminder that there is life anew after defeat, that Spring will not be kept at bay.
He stands across from me in the ballroom, elegant and beautiful. Perhaps in another place we could have been together, where it was right. But, just for tonight, I wish to become apart of him, no questions. He offers no explanation and I expect little. It is enough he is here, the most real person amidst the throng of guests. Memories of a time past rush over me, a time where we were free. A time where I knew him under those glaring bubbles of light of the stars of space. His eyes are piercing, gaze comforting as he extends his hand, he wishes for me to follow him to a place, to that escape. He holds my dreams in his hand, my most dormant desires resurface and for the last time I'll not resist. I feel hesitant to step over that threshold yet realize I won't be given this chance again. I take hold, my life placed into him, my breath still and we intertwine. The wind caresses me, his grip strong and steady and we ascend into the sound, into the strobes, into the light, just us two as if we belonged with the Sun, as if undivided.
This feeling, in the warmth of this night, is never-ending, an endless waltz, this dance between him and I, it is revealed. My sight shifts slightly but he remains, my stance shaky, yet he is unmoved. I place my arms around his neck; trap myself between him and restraint, that sound that reassures me amidst this whirlwind. His skin is warm and I embrace this closeness as we move together in sync. Will I ever have this night again? Will he return? When the Sun rises will this disappear as if never existing, his mask placed once again, his features cold, but I will remember, yes… I will remember. Hands run up my back, to rest against my neck and I turn to him. His Prussian eyes are bright, a longing present within and I understand him, his desires, his wants…I know them all. I lift my face, his finger traces my cheek and I am sent into a haze, my skin trembles and I feel his lips.
The night fades away; there is only this, only us. It is in this moment I release my fears, my need for self preservation and yield to him. How brief this all was.
I do not wish to leave this place but the stars are vanishing, this sound becomes more faint, his figure falls farther and farther away refusing to remain. The sunlight flares over this space, my eyes suddenly clear.
The haze of the Sun, which burns high blinds briefly and the faint light of dusk beckons the glow of fireflies. The essence that after birth there is the call to live and in the continual heat of the day, there is laughter. The gleam of infinite diamonds across the ripple of streams and of the sea allures even the bleak of heart. Bare feet run freely along abounding hills, the Summer that is enduring, that is endless.
If it were true, that I had purposely forgotten him, I don't believe myself to be entirely wrong. His prominence overtook my self-worth and I placed him on a pedestal too high that I don't think even he, the Perfect Soldier, could have belonged. I have long since forgiven myself, but it would be childish to deny that the sting of his constant departures didn't reverberate within me everyday. His loss wounded me in ways a woman, self-sufficient and strong shouldn't be. It was a quiet evening, the breeze of the summer night lifting the curtains, a glass of wine, my favorite book but with these symphonies of thoughts I found it difficult to calm myself, to ease myself into my routine. I wanted him there. I needed him there but damn him if I were to force myself to make the first move. If it means retaining some semblance of pride I would gladly forsake any chance meeting. There is a tentative knock on my door and I know it is my brother but I don't wish to see his concerned blue eyes.
I'd rather those of a stormy sea.
If it were true, that I had purposely shoved the memory of him deep within my mind, I don't believe myself weak. I did not wish to be reliant, to drown myself in sorrow, to mope or delve into those foolish regressions women fall victim to. If it were true…if it all were true I am relieved I have cause to reminisce and that he is no longer a present concern, that he is now a figment of the past. A past laden with wars, vain struggles and the deaths of many. I'm lying to myself, I know, but it's better this way than to chase a dream that could never be made real.
Heero, I miss you
As daydreams pass fleeting, this intimacy I imagined myself with him passed as well. The fragments dissolved and it was a welcome reprieve, as timeless he will always remain to me, to my memory. If it were true…if it all were true…I wouldn't hide myself behind my bedroom door, I wouldn't have kept his photo at my bedside. If it all were true, I believe, this misery would have long since subsided, his face long since faded away.
A cool breeze descends over the blanket of heat. Daylight is brief and midnight is all encompassing. Leaves of a gold float to once lush grass, hushed breaths pierce brisk air and waters are turned cool by the absence of the midday warmth. Pristine clouds are painted hues of a dying sun and carefree play is put to ease. The coming of the Fall nears, the peace of its sleep cast over the lingering breath of life.
Heero, do you know if they ask what kept me afloat all this time, I'd tell them it was you. Back then I believed that I'd run and run until I found you and perhaps tomorrow again if you still believed in me, surely then I would have the confidence to hold on to you. I aways returned to that place from winter, be it in rain or in the snow but never in perfect weather, never in the sun. Two years had passed since our last meeting. The crisp leaves fell slowly and I believed myself foolish. Maybe I was to blame for holding on to a memory I should've let go a long time ago but I didn't care…I wanted to keep remembering. I sit on the cold edge of the fountain base, my elbows resting on my knees and my hands clenching, struggling to keep these tears from being known. I could stay here for hours with the small hope he would come and is it not truly piteous that the times I've been disappointed before still haven't taught me a thing?
Heero, won't you come to me?
Haven't we've distanced ourselves enough? Haven't you thought of me at all? Surely he remembered today? I lift my head, the air brisk against my cheeks and I bury my hands deeper in the pockets of my coat. The afternoon darkness came and I could no longer muster enough warmth to wait a bit longer. So I force myself to stand and make my way to the entrance gate. The garden was much older as was I yet remained stagnant as I too haven't moved forward. It always seemed that way with Heero. Time was irrelevant for a man who belonged nowhere, for a man who was able to influence those around him so effortlessly. I close the gate slowly, rest my hand on the rusted spokes and bitterness overcomes me when I hear leaves crunch behind me.
Closing my eyes and opening them, fully intent to be strong I turn around to face him.
His jeans are dirty, his boots scuffed and against the cold all he wears is a black turtleneck. I raise my head to his face and I don't want that tenderness, I don't want those complexities I always seem to find.
"Relena..." I hear my name from his lips. What is this relief?
I turn my face and focus on the concrete littered with debris from summer.
"Why come if you'll just leave again?"
I take a step back as he nears me. He makes no move to touch me and I'm silently grateful as its taking all my restraint to keep from falling into him.
"I-" he starts and I begin to shake my head. I don't want him to speak, I don't- "I'm tired, Relena."
My voice fails me and I'm trembling. My hopes are rising again and I beat myself down because instinct in me knows it's probably another act.
"Tired?" I choke out and a cold wind cuts through my coat and I shiver.
Just leave Heero, just leave again.
He pulls me close to him and that was all it took. My fists beat against his shoulders and my vision is blurred and I'm damning him for being so strong but somewhere outside of my haze, I feel the slight shake of his hand as he smooths my hair.
"It took me all this time," his voice rumbles against my head, "to realize so many things."
I don't ask him what he means, I don't want to know. So I cry. I cry for all the Winters, the Springs, the Autumns and the Summers I lived through without him.
As quickly as he leaves, he appears again. He's late, I had been waiting for hours but he's here, I tell myself. With all his faults, his misgivings and the knowledge that he may not stay, he is at least here with me again. He truly remembered.
"Happy birthday Relena," he whispers against my cheek and kisses me fiercely as if trying to make up for time lost. So I cling to him as if none of it were real, as if he'd disappear and I along with him. And in the gray of this garden, in the midst of an empty wind that howls, I believe that perhaps in this time where all life prepares for sleep, it is fitting that he would awaken everything in me that had been put to rest.