Fire: This Is a song that just was inspiring. I thought to go against the stupid "perfect pairings" and go WHAT IF RELENA GOT TEH SEXAH HEERO?! So, this is from Duo's point of view a few years after Endless Waltz. 2x1 onesided, 1xRelena onesided, RelenaxHerself OBVIOUS! There is Relena bashing, I encourage it. ALL FALMES SHALL BE USED TO HEAT UP DUO AND HEERO'S HOT FLAMING GAYNESS! I mean, Braids and SPANDEX? AS IF IT ISN'T OBVIOUS ENOUGH!Um yeah.
Quatre: That's a bit odd. The hero NOT getting the love interest in the end? Did you watch Elizabth I again?
Trowa: Oh gods... --;;;
Fire: yes, but that's not the point! Anywho, WUFEI DISCLAIMER!
Wufei: FiresideChild does NOT own Mobile Suit Gundam Wing opr any of it's characters, places, history, associations, or villians (aka Relena). Those belong to Hajime Yadate last time she checked. And she is making NO PROFIT off of these. Niether does she own the song "Tearsdrops On my Guitar". That song, melody, lyrics, and such is owned by Taylor Swift, but she DOES encourage you to go by the album with that song ON IT! And for an onna she's written this shpeel pretty well.
Duo: I"M SO SAD AND ADOREABLE!
Heero: I'm going out with Relena... Must...self-destruct...
Fire: NOT IN THE HOUSE DAMMIT!
WARNINGS!!!: Mild Language, ShonenAi, Patheticness, overused plots, and um... yeah.
Fake a Smile- A song fic Featuring Taylor Swift's "Teardrops On My Guitar"
He looks at me; I fake a smile so he won't see
That I want and I'm needing everything that we should be
I'll bet she's beautiful, that girl he talks about
And she's got everything that I have to live without
Relena was brought up in a loving, rich family, even if they weren't her real parents. Whereas me, I grew up on the streets of L2, running from everyone but Solo. Aw sure, I had Sister Helen for about a year, but that wasn't a family. I guess I kind of wanted to let Heero shoot her. She doesn't realize what she has, a family that loved her, memories of happiness, and most of all, Heero Yuy.
I think my smile might be slipping since his brow has furrowed into a slight frown. Maybe he noticed my staring or worse maybe he CAN read minds like Quatre said! God, I hope not! So I laugh and spit out some random joke to keep up my appearance, something about Wufei being afraid of boobs. He looks away, annoyed. That's good; if I can keep him distanced I can pretend he means nothing to me.
I look over to the form lying across the cell from me; thank god he abandoned those spandex shorts. I hated those; they showed me too much to be able to concentrate. He's talking about her again, something about her birthday coming up. Like I freakin' care, man. The stupid blonde aristocrat can bite the dust for all I care, but that would make him sad, so I pray for her safety. Oh damn, now he's talking again. Not about "her" but about escaping. Time to put aside my thoughts so we can both survive.
To tell you the truth, I know a lot about Heero. I've never once forgotten his birthday, August 7, or that his eyes are Prussian Blue not just blue, that his hair isn't just brown but that it'll shine moss green in certain lights. Or maybe everyone knows this and I'm the only one who thinks it's important.
We arrive back at the Preventer's Head Quarters relatively intact and as we walk in he pats me on the back, murmuring his thanks for during the mission. My breath catches in my throat as I wait for him to walk off and give his "perfect" report on how the "perfect" soldier did "perfectly" on the mission. I used to thank God that I wasn't like Heero. Nowadays, I kind of just wish I could be liked by Heero, or at least be close to him. All I gotta say is that Relena better be happy with what she's got 'cause if she ever tried to hurt him I'd have to go Shinigami on her little Prince-ass!
He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar
The only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star
He's the song in the car I keep singing, don't know why I do
Sometimes, I imagine him running to me instead of her, of running off with him into the stars. We'd open up a shop on one of the Colonies, I'd be a mechanic, he'd do something with computers, maybe have a little apartment for just the two of us. Those are the times when I wish and pray for him to love me, but in my heart I know that these scenarios would never happen outside of my thoughts and dreams.
So I drive home alone, as I turn out the light
I'll put his picture down and maybe
Get some sleep tonight
I walk out of our debriefing with Sally, my gaze cast to the ground as I make my way back to my car. I ride back to my apartment in silence realizing why I can't call it home. You know what they say, "Home is where the heart is." for me that's with Heero. I park in the garage and walk up the stairs past the dead elevator up to my flat. I push open the door after I undo the locks, all six of them. I look over the place.
I have a futon couch, a black and white TV, a radio/CD player, a few books from Quatre, and a little coffee table with a couple pictures of the guys. One with Quatre and Trowa at the fair, one of Wufei being hugged by Sally, one of Hilde and I when we first opened the shop (before she got married and I had to sell the place), a group picture of us pilots, and then there's my favorite. It's just Heero and me, lying on the couch at HQ, my arm is around him and we're both smiling. It was taken on his eighteenth birthday; he was so upset 'cause "She" forgot. But I cheered him up, and Trowa snapped the photo.
He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar
The only one who's got enough of me to break my heart
He's the song in the car I keep singing, don't know why I do
He's the time taken up, but there's never enough
And he's all that I need to fall into…
I don't bother to shower; I just pull out the bed and flop onto it. I even reach over to the table and set the picture of Heero face down. I don't want him to see me cry, not even if "he" is just a photo. I curl up on my mattress and weep. I'm not crying for the loss of Heero, or the fact that I'm alone, or even that Relena doesn't truly love him. I cry because I hate feeling like this for him. I hate being so close and being unable to reach out and kiss him. I hate my fake smiles and my past and my tears. But I know, that as long as he's happy, I'll never be truly lonely or sad. I'll only be lonely or sad when I can let down my mask.
He looks at me; I fake a smile so he won't see.
I'll keep my mask up while he's around, just so I can see his smile.