I don't know why I don't talk to him during those periods. I don't know why I don't laugh or even pretend to smile. I don't know why, but I always drop my mask during the nights he comes to me, and fucks me completely over. Limbs entwined, hands, mouth, tongue-- everywhere with only his groans and moans heard. Heero sounds even huskier grounding out my name when he fucks me. I am damn silent.
Then the morning dawns, and he disappears from my side, and in next instant we meet, it's back to pretence again. I'm back behind a laughing mask of death, talking a mile a minute, and he is back behind his own, a cold blank mask of a soldier, quiet again. Ever since we met, for two long years, it's been the same. Nothing has changed, only the places where we do it. Sometimes a few months pass before I see him again, but when I do, we lapse back into the same old pattern.
I get pillow talks from the others, but no sweet murmurings ever come from him. Though, barring a mission, Heero never leaves immediately from my side after a hot, sticky session. He seems to like unravelling my damp braid, and stroking his fingers through the long tresses. I never let any of the others touch the hair, but only for him, I allow him permission to. I think he knows this.
There's some sort of satisfaction in his eyes when he looks at me as he entangles his fingers into my waves. He really looks at me, at all of me, inside and out. And then he smiles a small smile only meant for me. No words are needed, but I think I love the damn bastard. I want to laugh in pain, but nothing comes out. So all I can do is lie there, and hope to hell he never leaves me too. Heero really scares me. Maybe that's why I can't speak.
Fin.
