If I Were a Painting
By fantasymonk
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: "If I Were a Painting" is sung by Kenny Rogers, and does not belong to me. Neither do the GW boys. I do not intend to get and will not receive money for this fic. Also, I'm not sure all of the lyrics are correct, since I put them down by listening to the song. I'm sorry for any lyrical mistakes, and feel free to tell me if there are any. Arigato for reading!
If I were a
painting
Captured on canvas
Alone in the portrait I'd stand.
Wufei sat in the window, staring out at the night sky. The other pilots were fast asleep by now, surrendered to dreams. The Chinese pilot found himself unable to sleep. The window framed him like a painting, the profile strong and inevitably alone. Wufei's thoughts were melancholy, lost in his memories. He lifted one leg, clasping the knee in his hands. He wondered why it seemed to be his fate to always be standing alone.
In brush strokes
bold
Yet soft as a
whisper
The work of a feminine hand.
He sighed, thinking how his life had been changed by his Nataku. He shook his head ruefully. His… Meiran had belonged to no one, least of all him. If anything, she had controlled him. Like the brush wielded by a master painter, Meiran reached out from the grave to influence him. Sometimes Wufei thought he had become the person he was because of her. Her ideals lived on in him, simply because it was the best way he knew to keep her alive, if not in body, then in spirit.
Caught in the
still life
Surrounded by shadows
Or lost in a background of blue.
Wufei leaned his head against the window frame. The shadows cast by a full moon gave his face a sharper appearance, making him look like a still life that had been ingeniously captured for eternity. His unmoving form lent truth to this illusion, the blue-back of the night sky creating a perfect backdrop. It fit his mood tonight. It was almost comical, being too sad to sleep. Wufei sighed. To be so weak as to let his loneliness prevent him from getting rest… but just knowing that the others had found friendships in each other, yet he had found no such solace, was enough to keep him up into the dawn hours.
If I were a
painting
My price would be
pain
And the artist would have to be you.
Sometimes Wufei thought his whole life was meant to be filled with pain. He refused to get close to others, fearing that they would be lost, killed, leaving him alone with the grief of their passing. Being aloof from the other pilots, keeping himself separate, that was what kept him from hurting. He couldn't bear to lose another like he had Meiran. She had taught him to know loss.
I imagine the
colors
Would all run
together
If you ever allowed me to cry.
Wufei sniffled softly. He would not cry… a warrior shouldn't cry, for crying would prove you had feelings. Feelings meant eventually being hurt. Wufei wasn't sure if his heart could take another such blow. Nataku had never cried… she was too strong for it, and he wanted to make her proud of him by being strong too. He could just imagine her disapproval if she saw him with tear-stained cheeks, although his face had been damp often in the night these past few weeks.
So don't paint the
tears
Just let me
remember
The view without you in my eyes.
Before he
could stop them, the tears overflowed from his eyes, spilling onto his
cheeks. The liquid painted trails down
his face as he allowed them to dry. He
could hardly remember how it felt to look at the world through his own eyes,
instead of trying to see it through Meiran's. Wufei wasn't sure he could make a decision anymore without a slight
tinge of Meiran in it.
It's only the
frame that holds me together
Or else I'd be
falling apart.
If I were a
painting
I wouldn't feel
And you wouldn't be breaking my heart.
Wufei closed his eyes, thinking. It would be easy for him to fly apart, to show all the emotion he didn't want others to see. A good tantrum, perhaps. Meiran was the frame holding him together, keeping him calm and distant, like a strong warrior should be… like she was. Until the end… then she had broken down the barriers and shown him how she had really felt. Too late for the both of them, though. Now, he just strove to be the kind of man she would be proud to be married to. Feeling was not an option. A shuddering sigh left his lips.
Author: If this is not where you want the fic to end, feel free to read on! However, if you like the slightly bittersweet feeling of this moment, don't go any further. Choose your own ending!
"Wufei…?" The sound made his head snap up, instantly alert. Who had gotten into his bedroom? A form next to the door caught his eye, and he turned toward it.
"Maxwell, what are you doing here?" he almost snarled, surreptitiously wiping moisture from his face. The braided American slowly moved forward.
"I was getting a snack from the kitchen, and heard something in here. What are you doing still up?" he asked. Duo refrained from commenting on Wufei's tear-stained cheeks. The Chinese pilot settled back against the windowsill, retreating to the solace of the shadows.
"I am looking at the stars, what does it look like?" he replied gruffly, turning his face away from the other boy. Duo stood there, wavering between leaving the grouchy Chinese teen alone, or helping the troubled boy he knew was in front of him. His compassion won out; he knew what it was like to need someone else. He sat on the window ledge next to Wufei and put his arms around the other pilot.
"I know you're not feelin' good, so I'm giving you a hug," he said, letting go. Wufei stared at him in disbelief. Duo merely gave one of his trademark grins. "Don't go all bug-eyed on me, Wu-man. I expect to be paid in full. If I ever need a hug, you're gonna give me that one back, okay?" He turned with a flip of his braid and headed for the door. "And if you ever need someone to talk to, or another hug, just come to me." He turned and winked. "I've got plenty to spare!" He waved as he shut the door behind him. Wufei leaned back again, still feeling the warmth from that hug clinging to him. A friendly hug…? Perhaps he wasn't so alone after all. A smile suddenly tugged at his lips. Perhaps he would give Maxwell his hug back with interest. He yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. As his eyelids drifted shut, the smile stayed on his face. The door opened a crack, and a chestnut head popped through. At the sight of the Chinese pilot on the windowsill, Duo walked inside, shaking his head.
"How many nights have you gone without sleep, Wufei?" he whispered, picking up the other's still form and carrying him to the bed, depositing him gently onto the soft mattress. It was the work of mere moments to cover the sleeping teen with warm covers, tucking the soft cloth around him. Duo smoothed back Wufei's hair before turning and closing the door for the final time that night. The moonlight bathed the black-haired pilot's face in softer shadows now, and the smile still lingered on the usually stern lips.