That day he allowed me to engage in the ritual of braiding his hair.
I mean absolutely no sarcasm in this. For Duo, his hair represented
everything he loved, or had loved at some time, in his life; it represented
the shred of beauty and dignity in the field of blood-saturated dirt. Duo's
hair was Duo.
After slipping into my room, donning only a towel with a brush tucked halfway into it, he sat almost shyly on my bed, fiddling with a strand of wet hair. "Hey, Quat. Would you.umm.." I knew what he was trying to say, so I grinned at him and nodded. By Allah, he looked so innocent, so naïve, so vulnerable, right then. It made me want to cry, that this tough orphan, this battle-hardened soldier, this God of Death- he.he needed me. I'm not saying I didn't love him, not by any means would I say that, but I simply loved Duo; Duo needed someone to love, and someone to love him back. Me.
"Sure."
Duo sighed, clearly relieved that I had understood and agreed. I ran my fingers through the wet strands of hair; the cool dripping water was refreshing, despite the fact that every few inches my hands got snagged by knots. He opened his mouth as he pulled the black brush from his slender waist, probably thinking about saying something clever, like "Draw!" He decided against it.
As much as I tried to suppress it, I quietly laughed aloud. He looked behind him, and up at me, violet eyes reflecting his confusion of emotions. Curious. Hurt. Understanding. Relieved. Joking. After holding a knowing grin for a brief moment, Duo turned his head halfway back to facing forwards, allowing me to admire his left side profile. He looked wise, and his face could have been a samurai's, with the wind blowing in his face as he surveyed his old village upon his return from years of fighting, death and war.
I pried deeper into his one visible violet eye. Yes, he looked wise, yet he also looked sad. Truly sad. Only at that moment did I ever know what it meant to hurt, and also what it meant to love. The pain of loss was radiating off him in strong waves, and though I hadn't suffered anywhere near his ocean of hurt, I knew exactly how he felt. Every laugh was a lie, every joke a façade, every smile a mask. I think maybe Duo Maxwell has more honor than even Wufei. Duo honors himself, as well as all of those he loves.loved. Duo wants no pity, just honest love. Looking at my valiant soldier, and explosion of guilt sent waves of near-nausea crashing over my entire body. That face.that person.that pain.
For reasons I don't know, I smiled at the profile of Duo Maxwell. I suppose I did so because I loved him, which makes even less sense than not knowing why I did it. He abruptly returned to his charade, turning back towards me again. "You gonna get started or what?"
".uh.yeah," I tried to say, but it came out quiet and forced. "Sore throat, ne?" he asked in a tone that suggested that we were simply friends, and somewhat distant ones at that, and then grinned. I would have been fine if I hadn't seen him desperately searching in my eyes as he smiled. Looking for my approval, my friendship, my love, my need for him. But I had.
I fell weakly into his arms, tears streaming down my face, whispering, "Oh Duo. Oh, Duo," repeatedly. He quickly, and skillfully, turned around, slightly repositioning me, so he could properly hold me in a tight embrace. His arms went under mine, hands resting on my upper back. My arms went around his neck, tight enough that I could have held my elbows with the opposite hands. I buried my head between my left arm and his warm neck. He held me, silently sobbing, for a long time.
Eventually I looked up, expecting to have to explain my emotional outburst to the person I would have least wanted to explain it to. Looking upon his face, I was immediately relieved. The still-falling tears, telltale red eyes and his helpless expression on his beautiful face showed me that he already knew. After I met his eyes, we both took a deep breath and laughed nervously. While still partially chuckling, Duo stepped back from me and whipped his left eye on his upper left arm, and than the opposite for his right eye, making the motion look almost like a shrug. I tried not to, but I started to smile again, which released a few fresh tears from my eyes. He looked at me gravely, stepped forward, close enough that I felt the warmth emanating from his bare chest. He gently took my face in his hands, turned it slightly upwards so we were looking into each other's eyes, and wiped away my tears with his thumbs. "No, it's really okay, Quat. I mean-"
I interrupted him by smiling and placing my right forefinger on his lips. I blinked, and then gazed up into his gorgeous eyes for an eternity. I never wanted that moment to end. Life had never made more sense than it had right then. He kissed my finger gently, broke eye contact and slowly walked out of my room. As he left, I saw the shimmer of a new tear, and I hope and pray to Allah that that one was different.
After slipping into my room, donning only a towel with a brush tucked halfway into it, he sat almost shyly on my bed, fiddling with a strand of wet hair. "Hey, Quat. Would you.umm.." I knew what he was trying to say, so I grinned at him and nodded. By Allah, he looked so innocent, so naïve, so vulnerable, right then. It made me want to cry, that this tough orphan, this battle-hardened soldier, this God of Death- he.he needed me. I'm not saying I didn't love him, not by any means would I say that, but I simply loved Duo; Duo needed someone to love, and someone to love him back. Me.
"Sure."
Duo sighed, clearly relieved that I had understood and agreed. I ran my fingers through the wet strands of hair; the cool dripping water was refreshing, despite the fact that every few inches my hands got snagged by knots. He opened his mouth as he pulled the black brush from his slender waist, probably thinking about saying something clever, like "Draw!" He decided against it.
As much as I tried to suppress it, I quietly laughed aloud. He looked behind him, and up at me, violet eyes reflecting his confusion of emotions. Curious. Hurt. Understanding. Relieved. Joking. After holding a knowing grin for a brief moment, Duo turned his head halfway back to facing forwards, allowing me to admire his left side profile. He looked wise, and his face could have been a samurai's, with the wind blowing in his face as he surveyed his old village upon his return from years of fighting, death and war.
I pried deeper into his one visible violet eye. Yes, he looked wise, yet he also looked sad. Truly sad. Only at that moment did I ever know what it meant to hurt, and also what it meant to love. The pain of loss was radiating off him in strong waves, and though I hadn't suffered anywhere near his ocean of hurt, I knew exactly how he felt. Every laugh was a lie, every joke a façade, every smile a mask. I think maybe Duo Maxwell has more honor than even Wufei. Duo honors himself, as well as all of those he loves.loved. Duo wants no pity, just honest love. Looking at my valiant soldier, and explosion of guilt sent waves of near-nausea crashing over my entire body. That face.that person.that pain.
For reasons I don't know, I smiled at the profile of Duo Maxwell. I suppose I did so because I loved him, which makes even less sense than not knowing why I did it. He abruptly returned to his charade, turning back towards me again. "You gonna get started or what?"
".uh.yeah," I tried to say, but it came out quiet and forced. "Sore throat, ne?" he asked in a tone that suggested that we were simply friends, and somewhat distant ones at that, and then grinned. I would have been fine if I hadn't seen him desperately searching in my eyes as he smiled. Looking for my approval, my friendship, my love, my need for him. But I had.
I fell weakly into his arms, tears streaming down my face, whispering, "Oh Duo. Oh, Duo," repeatedly. He quickly, and skillfully, turned around, slightly repositioning me, so he could properly hold me in a tight embrace. His arms went under mine, hands resting on my upper back. My arms went around his neck, tight enough that I could have held my elbows with the opposite hands. I buried my head between my left arm and his warm neck. He held me, silently sobbing, for a long time.
Eventually I looked up, expecting to have to explain my emotional outburst to the person I would have least wanted to explain it to. Looking upon his face, I was immediately relieved. The still-falling tears, telltale red eyes and his helpless expression on his beautiful face showed me that he already knew. After I met his eyes, we both took a deep breath and laughed nervously. While still partially chuckling, Duo stepped back from me and whipped his left eye on his upper left arm, and than the opposite for his right eye, making the motion look almost like a shrug. I tried not to, but I started to smile again, which released a few fresh tears from my eyes. He looked at me gravely, stepped forward, close enough that I felt the warmth emanating from his bare chest. He gently took my face in his hands, turned it slightly upwards so we were looking into each other's eyes, and wiped away my tears with his thumbs. "No, it's really okay, Quat. I mean-"
I interrupted him by smiling and placing my right forefinger on his lips. I blinked, and then gazed up into his gorgeous eyes for an eternity. I never wanted that moment to end. Life had never made more sense than it had right then. He kissed my finger gently, broke eye contact and slowly walked out of my room. As he left, I saw the shimmer of a new tear, and I hope and pray to Allah that that one was different.