Disclaimer: I own not the characters in this 'fic. ^_~

MEMORIES

Quatre looked across the longish table with a look that was torn between ultimate loss and horror. They had been eating a quiet dinner, Trowa and he, when a storm of bullets came flying from the side and into his beloved's body. Trowa hadn't scrame out in pain, of course. He just looked at Quatre, pain evident in his eyes. But, also, what was that he saw? Deep down in the unreadable depths? It was something that Quatre had never seen before in those eyes--he saw love. Trowa was looking at him with love and sorrow. That's when Quatre finally snapped out of his trance, looking at the bloody body of his lover and said the words he had said so often, "I love you, my sweet Trowa." With that, he picked up Trowa's body and walked through the safe house to their room and wept.

The others in the house must have heard either the gun fire or the cries, since they were standing outside the door of their room, now, banging and yelling. Quatre just wanted them to leave him alone with his beloved. His cold, lifeless, masked love. Choking back another sob, Quatre leaned over and brushed Trowa's copper-tasting lips one last time. That's when the door was kicked open. By Wufei, by Heero--Quatre didn't notice, nor did he care.

"What the hell is all this racket, bu--" Duo came stomping in and found Quatre sitting on the floor, a messy Trowa in his lap. It was one of the few times Duo actually had nothing to say. His jaw was loose and his eyes were wide.

Heero looked around the room. "Where did it come from?" he asked in the same monotone that rarely changed. It figures, Quatre thought spitefully, that Heero wouldn't be affected by death. Oh, no. Not the Perfect Soldier. Why would he? It's not like he has a sorrowful bone in his body at times!

Instead of voicing his thoughts, he grunted. A very un-Quatre-like thing of Quatre to do. Heero--of course, Heero!--nodded and walked out, towards the dining area.

By this time, Duo had dropped to his knees and Wufei was still standing there, expressionless. Duo didn't cry. There had been enough crying in the past half-hour since Trowa was murdered. "Why would someone do this?" he thought he heard the 02 pilot whisper.

To respond to Duo was the previously silent 05 pilot, "People could be called animals, but animals kill for food. They killed them because they either wanted revenge or they wanted us," he looked straight into Quatre's eyes, "to retaliate." Quatre's glare did not phase Wufei as he turned and walked out of the small room.

"Quatre," Duo whispered, holding his cross tightly in one hand. "I'm sorry. Really." The American took one final look at Trowa's corpse and left as well to investigate the scene.

It was early in the morning when Trowa leaned over Quatre and poked him in the side. He knew that was the most humorous ways of waking the blonde Arabian up. Usually, Quatre didn't sleep in this late, but, things happened last night. Trowa chuckled to himself about what happened last night. If the other pilots knew, they would have a hissy fit. Well, Trowa reasoned, it wasn't like the others don't do, uhm, things.

Quatre's brilliant blue eyes opened a crack, then shot open. "What time is it!" he immediately began to bustle around the room, making his bed, changing his clothes, going through his morning routine. "I didn't miss anything, did I?"

Quatre's hysterics in the morning always amused Trowa. It also made him wonder how one could get up so early in the morning and be energetic without a pot of coffee in one's system--like Duo. But Quatre, he was different, he always loved the mornings. Once, Trowa woke up to find breakfast on the side table next to him. That wasn't so bad, but it was five in the morning and that was strange.

Eventually, Quatre stopped running around the room like a madman and calmed down considerably. "Good morning, Trowa!" he said, smile illuminating his face.

If only Trowa could tell his lover what that smile did to him. How it made him want to take him in his arms and never let go. How that smile was the only thing to break his masks one by one until the real him showed. It meant everything to Trowa that Quatre stayed with him, even after knowing what the true him was like. Quatre loved him, he knew. He knew by the way he touched Trowa, the way he kissed and held him, the way he cuddled with him. Also, he said it every day.

Trowa, however, could never tell Quatre how he felt. He wasn't sure if he could give his heart to him, and if he would accept it. Bad things could happen in battle if people know who you love. Quatre didn't seem too worried, though. Soon, Trowa promised. Soon he would tell Quatre how he felt.

Quatre had slept, holding Trowa's pillow next to him. It still smelled like honeysuckle and cherry blossom. Quatre didn't think he could ever forget that smell. He breathed it in until the only thing he could smell was his lover. The only one he ever loved. He hugged the pillow, almost expecting arms to reach around him and hold him in a tender embrace. Instead, he heard a crumpling sound.

Confused, Quatre reached into the pillowcase and felt for the source of the noise. Grabbing what felt like paper, he pulled it out and stared at it. 'To Quatre' was scrawled in Trowa's neat but messy writing. With trembling hands, he opened the parchment.

Dearest Quatre,
I don't think that I would ever be able to tell you myself, with my voice, how I feel about you. Instead, I will tell you here. I love you, Quatre. You are there for me no matter how dangerous the situation can get. You lay next to me at night and snuggle close. You're the only one to get past my masks. You are my one love, Quatre Raberba Winner.
The one whose heart you stole,
Trowa

Tears streaked down Quatre's cheeks as he read the letter over and over. Trowa was never the best with words, and he knew that he had to have written and burned several copies before giving up and writing this one.

He wiped the back of his hand across his eyes and remembered.

There was a small cove behind one of the safe houses, there were beaches and the water was clear and fresh. It was a mystery how such a place was not yet corrupted by humanity. You couldn't see the cove unless you hiked through the forest. 'It wasn't a nature walk,' Quatre thought as he sat on a large rock, looking out across the water.

Silently, Trowa had crept up behind him and was now standing next to him. "Hello, Quatre," he said quietly, scaring the blonde and almost causing him to fall off his perch. Looking at Trowa, the other boy's grey- green eyes sparkling mischeviously. Quatre smiled.

"Hi, Trowa," the 04 pilot blushed furiously.

"Mind if I join you?" Trowa said in the same whisper.

"No, not at all," Quatre replied, still blushing as he moved over. Eventually, his blush subsided to a small tint of pink on his cheeks.

Trowa didn't look out at the water, he looked at Quatre, watching the way the setting sun dashed orange on his cheeks and the way his blush never faded away. He slipped his arm around Quatre's waist, the first sign that he had taken interest in the boy. Without warning, Quatre leaned his head on Trowa's shoulder and watched the sunset, a faint smile on his lips. Trowa turned and watch the sun go down, it's vivid hues slowly fading to dark.

The sun had gone down and stars were just coming out. They had a mission briefing in two hours. Quatre looked up at Trowa, only to find that the other boy was looking at him, a small smile on the edge of his lips. Hesitantly, Quatre sat up and pressed his lips against Trowa's. Surprisingly, Trowa's lips were soft and warm and left him wanting more. He got his wish.

Trowa had been waiting to see who would make the first move, it was Quatre. When Quatre first kissed Trowa, it left him in a state of mild shock. But eventually, he allowed himself to be pulled into the boy's kiss, the aroma of light vanilla overwhelmed him and the kiss became more passionate.

That was their first kiss, Quatre remembered sadly as he touched his lips. A knock at the door knocked him out of his reverie. Heero's voice came through the door. "Winner, time for briefing."

Slowly, Quatre climbed out of his bed. The bed he and Trowa shared, the stray thought caused him to pause, but he kept walking towards the door.

Going on, but never forgetting. That's what Trowa, his beloved Trowa would have done. That's what Quatre was going to do. For Trowa, for his only love, for the one who stole his heart.