A Christmas Candle
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Disclaimer: Per usual. Don't own them, yada yada yada
Warnings: AU, HeeroxRelena, breif talk about church/religion
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Snow fell in quick little flurries around him. He hated winter. Bad things happened in winter. White snow betrayed the true nature of the horrible season. He pulled his coat tighter around him, leaning into the wind. He walked as quick as he could down the empty sidewalk, through the deserted night. It wasn't until he passed the churchyard, coming up towards passing the large front doors to the sanctuary that he heard it.
That sweet little voice rising clear through the cold air. He blinked against the snow, and made his way towards the sound, the beautiful sound like angels singing and choirs of silver bells.
He slipped cautiously through the doors, looking around the large, dim sanctuary. Two sets of lighted candles flanked a pulpit and choir loft. There were a few people dotted in various pews in the giant room. He blinked, looking for the person making that beautiful noise... the source of that angelic voice.
"...keeping their sheep, on a cold winter's night that was so deep. Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel. Born is the king of Israel...."
Heero walked silently down between the rows of pews. Past an old woman near the back. Past a elderly couple, and past a grandfather with his grandson. Sitting alone in the third row, within direct view of the candle altar, a young girl sat alone. She stared ahead at the flickering flames, her sky blue eyes distant. The candle-light glowed, reflecting warmly in her soft blond hair.
Without a word, Heero sat down next to her. Slowly, she let the song dwindle to a close. She cast a glance at him, he purposely stared ahead at the flames, so as not to look at her.
"One of those candles," she said softly, "Is for my father. He passed away three months ago. He loved Christmas. He took me to church every Christmas morning."
"I've never been to church before."
"I love church," she said, apparently not phased by his admission. "Especially on Christmas Morning. I think the songs are simply beautiful. I just love Christmas."
"My father died on Christmas Eve," he replied. His voice held just a little bitterness. How could she be so innocent and... naive. Winter was a horrible season. "Winter is a horrible season. It takes life... it doesn't give it."
"You're right, about the taking part. But wrong about how horrible it is. Winter is necessary. It makes us look forward towards the birth of spring, it makes us cherish the warmth while we have it. That's why we have the cold, the barrenness. To make us thankful for the rest. Everything always happens for a reason. Life, Death, everything. Even Winter."
She stood, walked up to the alter of candles. Without thinking, Heero followed. The soft click of her shoes against the floor, the almost silent swish of her long skirt, their quiet breathing were the only sounds.
She tucked a dollar into the box, took a match. She lifted a candle, struck the match, lit the candle. She placed the candle back in line with the rest.
"Who's that one for?" Heero found himself asking.
"You," she replied, looking up so that her soft blue eyes met his dark blue ones. "No-one should be so lost. Not on Christmas Eve," she said, reaching up to touch his cheek. "I'm singing a solo here at Morning Mass. I hope you'll be here." Then she turned and left.
Heero stood there, staring after her, then looking at the candle she'd lit... for him.
***
The next morning saw the sun rise, sparkling over freshly fallen snow. From a church, a song lifted into the cold December air, ringing. And from the choir loft, a pair of soft blue eyes smiled down into a pair of darker, prussian blue ones. And between them, a candle burned.
A candle burned for life, it burned for love.
It burned for hope.