The palace was quiet but for the sobs.
Heart-rending, pain-filled cries of grief traveled desolately through the dark, unlit hallways. The sobs traveled down the marble stairs, out the hallway window, and made their way to the moonlit garden, where, fortunately, not a soul lurked.
Quatre heard them each night these past three days as he lay very still, staring up at the ceiling of his room. Those grieved, tortured cries for love that haunted him so every night.
He chose to do nothing about it.
It wasn't that he wouldn't. It was that he couldn't.
A promise is made of steel, Quatre reminded himself agonizingly as the sobs would start. He would stare blankly ahead for over an hour, listening, just listening.
Listening to her pain.
***
The sword he held grew longer, stronger, much more powerful than a mere fencing sword. It was as though he held Excalibur, the blade eager and waiting for a taste of pure flesh.
"Stop," she said, holding her hands out in front of her. "No, please, stop...don't."
"I have no choice," he said, gazing at her immaculate face. That face, those eyes, they pleaded for him to rethink the fate he had bestowed upon her.
"Please, no," she begged, a fresh gleam of tears making her eyes...those eyes...seem so large and luminous. He trembled, quivered on the inside, tears stinging his own.
With one thrust, Excalibur was on the ground, lying, defeated. But his anger and lust was not.
He headed towards her, his eyes on hers, his heart contracting with passion while hers constricted in fear.
"Don't be afraid," he told her in a rough, husky voice, grabbing hold of her wrists and pinning her against the wall.
"Stop it, please, I beg you," she cried out loud, struggling for a few hopeless seconds. "Stop!"
"No!" His mouth was slammed down onto hers as all the world disappeared around them, and need and hunger and greed blasted up inside of him like a fire, fresh and new.
He kissed, he rubbed, he stroked. She cried, she begged, she grew helpless as he forced her onto the bed.
And then she whispered something, calmly, without fear, even as he continued.
"I hate you for what you've done to me..."
Heero gasped awake, his body jerking up and his mind repeating her name.
Relena. Relena.
Why? Why had he been having that dream continually for the past month? Why couldn't it just leave him alone, stop whispering these devious thoughts and evil wantings into his head?
Relena.
Heero glanced over to his right. Duo was lying peacefaully beside him, looking almost too angelic to be the god of Death.
He's the angel of death, then, Heero mused with a slight smile. But then that smile vanished as his dream came back to haunt him.
It's the guilt, Heero tried to explain to himself. I'm feeling guilty about Relena...
He clenched his fist and shook his head in the darkness, leaning against the head board of the bed. She wasn't supposed to find out!
Heero grabbed his pants and slipped them on. It was raining outside, a soft, gentle rain that tapped the roof lightly. Heero got up and walked to the balcony doors, leaning against the glass and watching his warm breath mist it.
Why can't I get her out of my mind? he wondered, confused. I don't love her...do I? He shook his head again. No, of course not, don't be ridiculous. It's the guilt.
The guilt always took the blame when it came to Relena.
I don't love Duo either. I just...use him, sort of. And I know he doesn't love me, not like that.
"Heero..."
He turned, saw Duo gazing sleepily at him. Duo smiled his sly smile.
"Restless, huh?" Duo asked, propping himself up on his elbow and resting his head on his hand. "Big day today."
"Don't remind me," Heero said, grabbing his green tank-top and easing it over his head.
"Why not? I thought of all the feelings you'd show, nervousness wouldn't be one of 'em."
"I'm not nervous." He walked to the door.
"Oh, yeah, I forgot. The mighty Heero Yuy has no feelings."
"Your Gundam's been rebuilt," Heero said, changing the subkect and flicking the lights on.
"What? Already? Fixed and customized and everything? When'd you find out?"
"Last night after you fell asleep. You'd better hurry. You'll want to see it."
Relena, no matter how hard she cried, amazingly never had puffy eyes in the morning. And that was a good thing, too, for Quatre Winner had come early about three days ago for the ball that was going to be held tonight.
Relena, happily, had ivited the Gundam Pilots and pleaded for them to attend.
But that was three months ago...
Three months ago, Relena thought as she brushed her hair for the fifth time that day. Has it really only been that long? I feel like I've been mourning for almost forever...I've forgotten how it feels to be happy.
Tears stung her eyes, and the brush fell into the vanity's drawer. Her head fell to her hands, her shoulders started to heave, and her insides shuddered with pain.
Heero, she cried silently. Heero, my Heero...I want you to be my Heero once more...
A knock was heard from the door. Relena straightened, brushed away her tears with the back of her hand, and straightened her back.
Walking over to the door, she pasted a bright, fake smile on her face.
"Yes?" She opened it.
"Relena," Pagan said. "Breakfast is served."
Relena nodded, and as she looked at Pagan, her heart was ablaze with sudden pain, a newer pain, searing and fiery.
Pagan turned to leave, and Relena couldn't help herself.
"Oh, Pagan!" She flung her arms around him, surprising him, yet holding him close. "Pagan."
"Miss Relena," Pagan said. "What's with the sudden show of emotions?"
"Pagan, you've been all that used to be familiar to me," she explained, a lump in her throat forming. "You've been with me since forever. Before I found out about Milliardo, before I met any of the Gundam Pilots, before daddy died..."
Before I found out about Heero.
"There now, Miss Relena," Pagan said soothingly. "I promise all will be alright."
But it won't be. And I know it. Because someday, you'll leave.
"Shush now. We wouldn't want Master Quatre to see you in this state, it would only worry him.
He already knows. And I've put so much on his shoulders by making him promise not to tell.