'you found me hanging by my fingertips from your window and i don't want to tell you i was trying to rob you but idk how else to explain this and i don't want to go to jail and also you're kind of cute we should make out when i'm not clinging onto your window ledge for my life' au
I shouldn't have listened to that tip from Duo. I should have known info from Duo, even if it was originally Howard's source, would be flawed. And yet I went. I invaded the Winner mansion. Three-thirty in the morning, just as Duo directed. The security cameras were rotated perfectly to allow for a small shadow beside the oak tree. I slipped over the fence and into the branches with no trouble. Duo had been right about that at least.
My best entrance was the second floor on the eastern wing, third window from the right. On the other side of the glass was the conservatory, filled with instruments and empty of persons at the late hour.
Or so I had been told.
I hadn't been told that there were safe footholds on the eastern facing wall but one would assume that a family as wealthy as the Winners could afford the upkeep of their mansion. As it was the ledge outside the third window from the right collapsed under me. Surprised though I was, I was still able to grab a chunk on the remaining stone to stop my plummet. Below me the broken ledge pounded the ground. I cursed my bad luck and prepared to pull myself into the window.
That is when my real bad luck began.
"Do you need a hand?" asked a voice from above.
I had been caught. Thanks to Duo I would be going to jail. I raised my head to see who had caught me. Maybe I could bribe him. It was all I had left short of dropping down and running and that would most definitely get me caught on camera. Better to test my luck with the man who shouldn't be there.
"That would depend on if you are offering one."
What a smile.
"Fortunately for you I am," he said reaching down one slightly tanned hand. I gripped it tightly and used my legs to push myself up. The boy didn't release my hand when I was level with the window and instead used it to pull me through the window and into the room. "There you go. Safe and sound."
"I wouldn't say that quite yet," I said mostly to myself. The room was dark. It was no wonder I didn't know he was there. As I stood by the window the boy moved deeper into the room and turned on a lamp. Instantly the room became clear. I was in fact standing in inside the conservatory. That was evident by the baby grand beside the boy on the far side of the room. Against another wall was a cabinet full of various wind instruments. But the most interesting sight by far was my savior.
Light blond hair. A kind, easy smile. Wide peaceful eyes, probably blue. Or green. He was of average height. Shorter than me, but not too much shorter. If we tilted our heads, his up and mine down, we could kiss nicely.
Stop. Right. There. Trowa Barton.
"Should I bother asking why you were trying to sneak into my house, stranger?" he asked. His kind smile turned cheeky and I was stunned for a moment by the mischief in those eyes.
"Probably not," I replied. "I thing you already have an idea."
What a laugh.
"Yes, you're right," he said. "I guess I should let you go then, now that you aren't in mortal danger."
"Let me go?" I asked. Could this boy be so wonderful inside and out?
"Well yeah. I don't have a reason to hold you here. Unless you want to stay, that is."
Oh help me, that smile.
"No. I should go. I just didn't expect you would just let me walk away." There had to be a catch. Such beautiful people didn't exist.
He leaned against the piano and watched me for a moment. Gone was the smile. He was thinking about something. There was a catch.
"Well, I'd hate to disappoint you," that grin was back. "I'll let you leave on one condition."
I shifted my feet. I had to be ready to flee. No pretty face was worth jail. I was disappointed that I had to remind myself of that.
"Tell me your name."
"That's it?" Too easy.
"That's it." He straightened and came closer. His hand extended toward me and that lovely smile fixed in place. "Quatre Raberba Winner, and you are?"
I shouldn't tell him my name. I would be too easy to track. I should lie. I should run. I should.
I should.
I should.
"Trowa Barton."
But that smile was worth it. That hand in my own. I must have imagined how well they fit. Oh help. That grin will be the death of me, I'm sure. We both knew he was still holding my hand. Was he blushing?
"Alright, Trowa," he said, releasing my hand. There was an emptiness in my palm where there never was before. "You're free to go."
"Thank you."
I turned and began my descent out the window. Better to leave now than let myself be convinced to stay. I wasn't even sure Quatre would need to convince me. I was doing a fine job on my own. Tomorrow it would worry me how much I wanted those smiling lips on my own. Or those calloused fingers in between mine. Where did a rich boy like him get callouses?
Get out, Trowa.
The oak tree was just close enough that I could jump to one of its branches. I had done harder tricks on stage with Cathy.
"Ah, before you go," Quatre said from behind me. I turned back to him, one leg hanging out the window, body hunched to fit through the opening. "Next time you visit, just knock on the front door."
I couldn't help returning his smile and watching as his own brightened to an almost blinding degree.
"We'll see," I said, but it was really a promise and Quatre knew that as well. I would see him again. To deny that would be ludicrous. But for tonight I fled into the tree and over the fence and planned how to punish Duo for making such a huge mistake.
When I was alone later and the sun was just pressing over the horizon I let myself think of Quatre again. Would he want to see me tonight?
What a smile.