I wasn't planning on writing a sequel to 'The Circus', but the plot bunnies wouldn't leave me alone, haha…
I hope you will enjoy this, and don't forget to review! ;)
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing.
Not meant to be
Dorothy Catalonia stared ahead with an irritated expression on her face. For the umpteenth time she asked herself why she was here. She didn't want to be here. With a sigh, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and clasped her hands around her upper arms. Around her, none seemed to notice her gloomy mood. Why would they? This party wasn't about her, but about Relena. She mentally berated herself. She shouldn't tarry on her friend's birthday.
But it was all because of him. What was he doing here anyway? She narrowed her eyes into slits and cast an inconspicuous look in his direction. He was, like all the other men, wearing a suit. He looked damned handsome and that hurt. She resolutely turned around and left the beautifully lit ballroom. Even though he was on the other side of the dance floor, and it was big, she couldn't be in the same room with him. She made her way through the crowd, and did her best to avoid anyone familiar. She didn't want to talk to anybody at the moment.
De grand hallway was, like the ballroom, breathtakingly lit. She slowed her pace, and shook off the melancholy for a moment. She enjoyed looking at the beautiful chandeliers, that perfectly accentuated the art objects on the walls. She walked along hollows with sculptures, and elegant vases that held beautiful bouquets. She almost knew this house as well as her own, so she took a turn left when the hallway split up, and set course for the library.
She pushed open one of the heavy double doors and stepped inside. De door fell shut behind her, and she relaxed. The library was surprisingly silent. The sounds of the party and the buzz of the hallway couldn't be heard through the walls. She searched her way through the darkness, and avoided the comfortable chairs and sofas that were set up in the middle of the room. She stepped up in front of the window and stared outside. The moon shone in a clear sky and she stared at it with non-seeing eyes.
She felt empty on the inside. Lost. A few months ago, she had been happy. For a little while, because that happiness had soon turned into something else. Something gruesome that had consumed her. Something she couldn't have fought against.
She raised her hand and pressed it against the glass of the windowpane. It felt cold against her fingers. She sighed and shut her eyes, sinking into the memories that kept on harassing her. She didn't want to think about it, but it still happened. She felt a lump form in her throat and did her best to swallow it down. She failed, and a single tear escaped her control.
We were not meant to be, she thought to herself.
Her affair with Trowa Barton had been a short one. Two months of secret meetings and sensational sex… and after that… after that she had ended it.
She had been stupid. She had fallen in love with an unreachable man, who wouldn't let her catch him. The amorousness had been like a sickness. She hadn't been able to go without him, had been insanely jealous of every woman that got near him, had wanted to claim him. And that had been the point on which she had realized it was better to end it. Trowa's life was completely different from hers. She couldn't have asked him to give that up, to give up his freedom. It would have been inhuman to ask that of him.
It had been painful to look him in the eyes and tell him that she didn't want to see him anymore. And even more painful to see that he didn't seem to care. He had simply shrugged his shoulders and had left, leaving her with a broken heart and an emptiness that couldn't seem to be filled anymore.
And now he was here. She had done her best to avoid him the whole evening. She didn't feel like talking to him, or even being close to him. She was afraid she would break down in front of him, because she had not grieved. She had buried her pain somewhere deep inside and had ignored it, as if her feelings for him had never existed. But now, now that he was close to her, it seemed to break her up, and she didn't want him to see that.
She sighed deeply. Man up, she chided herself.
She had to go back to the ballroom. Relena had to be wondering where she was. She turned around, just in time to see that one of the library doors opened. A tall figure, that she directly recognized, stood in the doorway. A shocked cry escaped her and she backed up, until she felt the cool glass of the window against her back through the fabric of her dress.
What was he doing here?
"I thought I might find you here," he said. His voice sounded calm and devoid of emotion.
"What are you doing here?" she asked him haughtily.
Trowa stepped inside the library and the door slammed shut behind him. She didn't miss the fact that he turned the key, that was in the lock on the inside of the door. A surge of panic paralyzed her and she gasped for breath. What was he planning?
He came walking towards her, his pace calm and controlled. Threatening. The look in his eyes was harsh, almost cold. She gulped and wondered if she could slip past him to the door. Most likely not. He was strong and fast. She would never be able to outsmart him. He stopped right in front of her and gave her a scrutinizing look. He towered above her, so she had to look up to see his eyes. The moonlight cast his face in shadows, so she couldn't really gauge his expression.
"What are you doing here?" she asked him again.
He didn't answer and kept looking at her. "What do you think?" he asked finally.
She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "Do you think this is funny?"
"On the contrary," he said, while planting a hand against the windowpane by her head. "Well?"
"Well what?"
She suppressed the urge to slap him across the face. She was angry with him and with his cool behavior, but she wouldn't let her emotions lead her. She forced herself to remain calm and haughtily stared up at him. She wouldn't let him win from her. She would play the same game as he did.
He was silent for a while, and then a small, scant smile played over his lips. "Dorothy," he said almost lovingly, "you know that I can look right through that façade, right?"
She hissed and pushed him away from her. "You jerk."
She slipped past him and walked in the direction of the doors. Not even halfway there, he caught up with her and grabbed her wrist. The touch of his fingers against her wrist almost made her shudder, but she suppressed the feeling. She didn't want this, she kept telling herself. It just couldn't happen.
"Wait a moment," he said.
She turned around and gave him a look that promised death if he didn't let her go soon. "Let me go."
"No."
His answer made her gasp for breath. Didn't he understand that she had to get away? That she couldn't stand him touching her? She felt tears come up and fought them with all her might.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked him, with a voice strangled with emotion.
The harsh look in his eyes softened. He pulled her towards him, and forced her to meet his gaze with his free hand. She knew he could see her pain. She had never been able to hide her feelings well from him. In that aspect, she had always been powerless against him.
"Dorothy…" His voice sounded tormented, as if he only now understood that he was hurting her.
His hand moved from her chin into her hair, and he pulled her against him. She pushed her free hand against his chest. "No. This can't happen."
"Why not?" he asked.
She swallowed and tried to suppress a sob. She didn't succeed. "Because… I… I…"
She couldn't form words anymore and sagged against him. He wrapped his arms around her an held her. His embrace was soothing and warm, but even so, she refused to cry or to give in to him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear. "I should have seen it, but I thought…"
"No! Don't say it!" she interrupted him. "I don't want to hear it."
"Why are you being so stubborn?" he asked her.
She pulled back and gave him an angry look. "We're too different."
"That's not true."
"Our lives are too different," she tried.
"That can be changed."
"Damn it! Do you have an answer to everything I say?" she exclaimed.
She pulled her arm free and wanted to turn around, but he was too fast for her. He pushed her against the side of the closest book case and glared at her.
"Did you ever wonder about what I want?" he asked.
She stared at him in surprise. "You acted like you didn't care when I told you that I didn't want to see you anymore!"
"Because I knew that you were lying."
A seething anger overwhelmed her, and she slapped him across the face. "I didn't lie!"
She had, but she wasn't planning on admitting that.
He didn't even seem to feel the pain, even though his cheek was turning an angry red. "You didn't?"
She swallowed another stream of seething words and tried to push him away. "Let me go."
"I can't."
She froze. What was he trying to tell her? That he did want her? That the past five months had been a torture for him too? She didn't know, because she couldn't read it in his eyes. He kept everything he felt hidden behind that damned mask of his.
"What do you want?" she finally asked him.
"You know what I want."
She swallowed and shook her head. "No…"
He leaned forward, until his face was only a few inches from hers. "No, you don't know? Or no, you don't want it?"
"Stop it." She hung her head, so that he wouldn't be able to see the expression on her face.
She didn't want to believe that it could be so easy. It seemed so unlikely. She sobbed. He pulled her towards him and held her. Somewhere, deep inside her heart, the desire grew to give in. But she wondered if that was sensible. What was to become of them?
"I shouldn't have left," he murmured in her hair. "But I thought that maybe you needed time."
She made a weak noise of protest. Her fingers wrapped around the fabric of his suit's jacket, and she no longer had control over her tears. They ran down her cheeks and she started to sob uncontrollably.
"Shhh…" He caressed her hair, and let her cry on his shoulder. "It's alright."
She shook her head. "No."
"No?"
"No, it's not alright!" she smacked her fist against his chest. "You didn't even fight for me!"
"I regret that." He sounded so honest that she had no choice but to believe him.
"I love you, you idiot!" she sobbed.
He froze for a moment, obviously astonished by her confession. "What?"
"I'm not going to repeat it," she managed to say.
"You don't have to…" He pressed a kiss against her forehead.
It took a while for her to calm down. When she was able to control her emotions again, she pulled back. He wiped away her tears and gave her a small smile.
"I love you too," he said finally.
She sighed in relief after hearing these words. She had always thought he would never say that to her. He wasn't the type to talk about his feelings, and that he now had admitted them, it could only mean that he really meant it, and that he thought it was important that she knew. He leaned in and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back with vigor. She had missed him so much, and only now she realized how much. Her knees buckled when he teased her lips apart with his tongue, and desire flamed in her belly. She tightened her hold on him and pressed herself against him. She gasped when he lifted her up, and pressed her back against the book case.
She tore her mouth away from his. "Trowa, we can't…"
"I don't give a damn," he growled against her throat.
She gave in to him, and enjoyed the familiar feelings that he summoned within her. She felt free, loved, and incredibly sexy in his arms. He made love to her against the book case, his touches sensual and thrilling against her skin. And later, when they lay entwined on one of the sofas, she felt deeply satisfied. Even though she still had some objections.
"What is to become of us?" she asked him.
He nuzzled her hair. "That's simple."
"Is it?" She lifted her head from his shoulder, so that she could look at him. "Explain it to me, then."
He chuckled for a moment. "In the winter, the circus doesn't travel around, so I will come to live with you."
"And in the summer?"
"You will come with me," he said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
"I can't just leave!" she protested. "I can't leave my work behind!"
"There exist something that is called 'working from a distance'," he said dryly. "Quatre does that all the time."
"I'm not Quatre."
He grinned and let his hand slide down her back. "No. Thankfully, you're not. But he is a good example."
She sighed. "We'll see if I can arrange something like that."
"I think you can." He pulled her closer for a kiss.
She smiled against his lips. "I've missed you."
His fingers caressed her cheek. "I've missed you too."
She lay her head against his shoulder again and shut her eyes. A pleased sigh escaped her when he started to caress her back.
"We have to go back," she said after a while.
He kissed her again and then let her get up. She looked down on him for a moment, enjoying the sight of his naked and toned body. She was aware of the fact that he looked at her in the same way, and with a small smile, threw her hair over her shoulders.
"If you keep going like that, we're never going to make it out of here," he said huskily.
She raised an eyebrow and tried to give him a haughty look. It didn't work, because she couldn't seem to get the smile off her face. He slowly rose and took her face between his hands, so he could kiss her again. His lips caressed hers with a tenderness that she wasn't used to from him, but she knew that it was because he now knew what she felt for him.
They got dressed, and left the library together. When they arrived at the ballroom, he took her hand in his. She looked up at him with a smile when his fingers entwined with hers.
They would make it work, she decided. She could read in his eyes that he thought the same.
She laughed when he pulled her onto the dance floor and led her into a waltz. "I didn't know you danced."
"Only with you," he teased her.
A rush of satisfaction spread through her body, while he whirled around the dance floor with her. It would all be alright… And she felt incredibly happy…
- End -
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