Um....some shounen-ai, yes. 3x4, or lack thereof. ::grin:: Yes, feel the wrath of my angst-cannon. Hohoho. Trying to sort out my own, stupid feelings. Trowa's POV, as he seemed like the correct vehicle, and Quatre the right unresponsive one. Oh yes. Heh heh. All flames will be used to heat my house while I snuggle up in a blanket with...no one. Heh. That's what the fic is about, isn't it? ^_~

__________________________________________________________________

Quatre...
My eyes slide over to the small blonde asleep on the love seat in our small, temporary appartment-of-a-home. His mouth is open just a bit, his messy bangs splayed out wildly over his cheeks, and the small pillow he's sleeping on. Sometimes I wonder if it's possible to be too beautiful. If it is, he certainly fits the description.
It's stupid of me to be staring like this. He won't love me. He can't. It's pointless to even dream such things. I already know that he doesn't want to love.
Still, a single glance at the short figure curled so close to me sends my mind whirling. Everything about him is perfection...his lips, his hair, his cheeks....but most of all, his eyes. Even though they're closed, I can still see them perfectly in my mind. Always moving, swirling, changing shades of blue. They stand out like no other eyes that I've ever seen.
A voice inside me somewhere forcefully tells me to stop looking, and I pry my eyes away from him, laying on my back on the couch and staring instead at the cracked white ceiling. Of course, it's only a moment or two before my gaze returns to him. He looks so soft...
This is the only time I can watch him like this. Sometimes, I find myself peering at him out of the corner of my eye at breakfast, or at school. Then he'll look over at me, and send my eyes quickly back to whatever they should be focused on.
I'm shaking now. Me, shaking. I've always tried to be strong. To hide it. To run from it. But here I am, my mask disrupted by, of all things, a stupid, pointless crush. That's all it is, right? Just physical attraction. Not real love. It may have lasted this long, but I refuse to believe it's real love. It's just a crush, something I should be able to deal with. Something I should have dealt with already.
Stupid Trowa, what are you waiting for? Destroy it. These feelings are worthless. They'll never work out. You're stronger than this. Look at yourself, following him like some faithful puppy. It's disgusting...
The shaking won't stop. My vision grows blurred. No...I will not cry...I won't show this to anyone, even myself. Stop it....stop it...
A few tears push their way out over my cheeks. I bite down on my lip. Hard. No one will hear this. Especially not him. I can't show him that I'm weak like this.
I hear him stir, and quickly wipe my eyes. Fool. I look over as he sits up.

He's never been a morning person.
Good morning. I reply softly.
He wipes the sleep from his eyes, then blinks.
Trowa....your lip....it's bleeding...
I run a finger across it lightly, feeling the pain for the first time.
Is....something wrong? He asks me softly.
I tell him, Nothing's wrong. I'm fine.
He looks somewhat worried, but I don't mind. At least he doesn't know.

....I can never cry out loud.