You'll Never Be Alone
Disclaimer: I do not own the GW pilots, but I do own the plot.
A/N: This is about a girl and my fav. character, Trowa. Actually, it's more of me and I know how they feel a lot of the time, I grew up alone, but it's an ironic past, no need to take up space unless you want to know. Then just email me.
You ask to be left alone, you sit quietly in the shadows with sorrowful, emerald eyes that gaze about the world around you in envy. Why? Why must you only show a heart of stone and look at me as if I were a diseased animal?
With soft steps, I cross once more to your side, taking your tired hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. The pain and torment that fills your eyes as they turn to me, the anguish in your tired soul as I feel my heart pour out sympathy. And yet, you steal back your hand and turn to leave, but I cannot let you, I will not.
"Why must you turn from me, ignoring my feelings... the ones I carry so dearly in my heart for you?"
He only turns from me once more, his voice quiet and solemn as he tells me I can never understand.
Does he believe I've never felt the same pain, the same loss, that I've never had to be alone? If so, then he couldn't be more wrong.
Spinning him about, I prepare myself to be punished, yet I will not let him be by himself for the rest of eternity. The anger and hatred in his every graceful movement tells me that he has refrained from striking out at me this once, but I must stand behind my beliefs.
The iciness in his velvet voice is enough to chill one's blood, to stop one's heart.
Where is that gentleness and warmth that I once heard?
And again, he warns me never to touch him, to leave him be.
But it is my turn to be angered, I force my emotions to hide away. "The same pain that fills your wounded heart courses through my body. I've felt what you have, in different ways, but I've felt it all. To be bitter towards life when so many want to love you, to be your friend, is something that only the weak chose to do." At this, my eyes fill with tears, but I will them back. "And to suffer life alone is not living, but just existing. You know how precious life is, so embrace it."
The other four pilots gather around, watching. Softly taking his hand again, I speak but must turn my head when my tears begin to fall and my emotions betray me. "When I want to love you. You're never alone, you never have been."
Dropping his limp hand, it is I who turn to leave now. "You've always had your friends and will while I wander through life alone."
With weary steps, I walk from their piteous gazes, but a familiar and soft voice calls to me, holding the same, gentle warmth. Strong yet delicate hands stop my movements and turn me about, a small smile gracing his soft lips. He says nothing, he doesn't have to, but only lets down the guards around his heart, his eyes filling with an understanding and sparks of life. Unlike he, I am not strong; I cannot refrain, but lean into him and hide in shame, crying. I don't want to be the strong one all the time, sometimes it is I who needs a shoulder to cry on. And I finally feel safe as strong arms hold me tight and close. And I don't have to be afraid of myself or life anymore, I don't have to be alone.
Copywrite: June 10, 2002
Disclaimer: I do not own the GW pilots, but I do own the plot.
A/N: This is about a girl and my fav. character, Trowa. Actually, it's more of me and I know how they feel a lot of the time, I grew up alone, but it's an ironic past, no need to take up space unless you want to know. Then just email me.
You ask to be left alone, you sit quietly in the shadows with sorrowful, emerald eyes that gaze about the world around you in envy. Why? Why must you only show a heart of stone and look at me as if I were a diseased animal?
With soft steps, I cross once more to your side, taking your tired hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. The pain and torment that fills your eyes as they turn to me, the anguish in your tired soul as I feel my heart pour out sympathy. And yet, you steal back your hand and turn to leave, but I cannot let you, I will not.
"Why must you turn from me, ignoring my feelings... the ones I carry so dearly in my heart for you?"
He only turns from me once more, his voice quiet and solemn as he tells me I can never understand.
Does he believe I've never felt the same pain, the same loss, that I've never had to be alone? If so, then he couldn't be more wrong.
Spinning him about, I prepare myself to be punished, yet I will not let him be by himself for the rest of eternity. The anger and hatred in his every graceful movement tells me that he has refrained from striking out at me this once, but I must stand behind my beliefs.
The iciness in his velvet voice is enough to chill one's blood, to stop one's heart.
Where is that gentleness and warmth that I once heard?
And again, he warns me never to touch him, to leave him be.
But it is my turn to be angered, I force my emotions to hide away. "The same pain that fills your wounded heart courses through my body. I've felt what you have, in different ways, but I've felt it all. To be bitter towards life when so many want to love you, to be your friend, is something that only the weak chose to do." At this, my eyes fill with tears, but I will them back. "And to suffer life alone is not living, but just existing. You know how precious life is, so embrace it."
The other four pilots gather around, watching. Softly taking his hand again, I speak but must turn my head when my tears begin to fall and my emotions betray me. "When I want to love you. You're never alone, you never have been."
Dropping his limp hand, it is I who turn to leave now. "You've always had your friends and will while I wander through life alone."
With weary steps, I walk from their piteous gazes, but a familiar and soft voice calls to me, holding the same, gentle warmth. Strong yet delicate hands stop my movements and turn me about, a small smile gracing his soft lips. He says nothing, he doesn't have to, but only lets down the guards around his heart, his eyes filling with an understanding and sparks of life. Unlike he, I am not strong; I cannot refrain, but lean into him and hide in shame, crying. I don't want to be the strong one all the time, sometimes it is I who needs a shoulder to cry on. And I finally feel safe as strong arms hold me tight and close. And I don't have to be afraid of myself or life anymore, I don't have to be alone.
Copywrite: June 10, 2002