By: Mad Mary Kidd
Pairings: 3+4
Rating/warnings: U - none
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. Please don't sue me
Intro: A reunion. Based on a true story
Winter
He's clutching his scarf up around his throat as he walks. There aren't many people around; not surprising. It's already dark, and it's only five in the afternoon. Some see that as an inconvenience, but it's part of what he loves about Earth. The flat glare of the sodium lamps makes everything orange and black. He can't help the bounce in his step, and it's not just from being back in one of his favourite places.
His breath plumes in front of him; quicker than it should for the pace at which he is walking. Someone walks past on the opposite side of the road; Quatre hides his smile in his scarf. He hopes the stranger hasn't seen him grinning to himself over (apparently) nothing at all.
He reaches the bench and sits down, even though it is icy. After a few moments his foot is jiggling. Each vehicle that turns the corner receives an anxious glance, even though he knows most of them are much too small to be the one he's waiting for. He twists his fingers inside his gloves - they're the nice ones that Trowa gave him. He smiles at them - he can't help it. He knows it won't be long.
He's arrived here far too early, and he regrets that a little bit now. He crosses and uncrosses his legs, taps on his knees, shifts on the bench. A few people walk past, hurrying to get out of the cold. A girl walks past and smiles; he's seen her working in one of the shops he frequents. He smiles in return and nods a greeting.
Finally a bus pulls around the corner - Quatre jumps to his feet. The windows are dark and he can't see inside, but he can almost feel a familiar warmth emanating from inside the vehicle. It pulls to a halt and the door opens - a few people exit and hurry away, but then the driver exits as well, followed by Trowa. Quatre's heart leaps at the sight.
He has to restrain himself from leaping straight into Trowa's arms - after all, the driver is still sorting out Trowa's baggage. Calm green eyes regard him with quiet joy, and Quatre knows beyond a doubt that Trowa is as delighted as he.
Bags are finally sorted, and Trowa thanks the driver. They wait for the bus to pull away; it hasn't quite left before Quatre can no longer contain himself and dives into Trowa's arms.
'I missed you,' he says into Trowa's shoulder.
'I missed you too,' says Trowa, and holds him tightly.
owari