Temper the Soul

Chapter 8

by zapenstap



Heero awoke late in the day, alone in an empty bed much too large for him. He breathed in the freshness of the morning, blinking slowly. Her scent was everywhere, her presence was everywhere. She, however, was quite gone.

His head pounded like a kettle drum. He'd been sick last night after she ran out of the room, but he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol from the party or the gut-wrenching twist of emotions in his stomach that made him ill. God, what had he said last night? What had he done? Well, he knew, pretty clearly anyway. He had meant to say one thing and ended up conveying something radically different. He remembered the tears in her eyes, the wild accusations, and felt his heart plummet out of his chest for unintentionally hurting her. His arms ached to hold her, but she wasn't there, and it was his fault she had fled from him. There was no denying that he missed her, that he loved her. And there was no confusion at all. He wanted her back.

Panic. He half sat up in fear, his heart rate quickening three-fold. Had they broken up? No, he didn't remember that happening. Good. All he had to do was find her and apologize and explain his inconsistent behavior and what he had been thinking about. He had to tell her that he had been thinking how their relationship confused him because relationships confused him, and that loving her so much frightened him more than anything had before. He also needed to tell her that he had thought about marrying her, that he thought that's what he wanted. He still couldn't connect the two lines of thinking, though. Being in a relationship with her frightened him, but somehow making that permanent would make it better, even perfect? It seemed so strange, and what if she rejected his proposal or wanted him to explain himself further?

And what about marriage really? Should he suggest the idea before he officially proposed, or just do it and hope for the best? Didn't that mean he would have to buy her a ring? A house? No, they could do that together. Where would they live anyway? She was not really bound to the Cinq Kingdom any longer, not since the nation was dissolved, but her family was there and she would want to be close to everyone. They could get a little house away from the city where there won't so many people. What if she wanted children? He blinked, sitting up and dropping his head into his hands. Children... that was too much to think about. He didn't think he'd make much of a father; he couldn't really see himself in that role at all. Well, maybe he could, if she was his wife. He tried to imagine children, but the idea only served to amuse him, it seemed so strange. Well, never mind any of that. Back to basics. He wanted the girl. He needed her and he certainly wasn't going to allow anyone else to have her. He would take care of her for the rest of her life, wherever they lived or whatever happened. Of that he was sure, and really, if she didn't want him she could always say no. Thinking of himself as a husband was almost as weird as thinking of himself as a father, but maybe the terms weren't important; he knew he loved her and wanted her forever and that's all there was to it, right?

Maybe he ought to just suggest the idea first, see what she thought. But he didn't want it to sound like compensation for his mistakes and awkwardness. "I'm sorry I offended you. I know, how about we get married?" would not be what she wanted to hear. Maybe he ought to resolve their disagreement before he brought it up then. What was the best way to do that? Well, he needed to explain why he wouldn't make love to her. Only now he couldn't remember the reason himself. Right now that was all he wanted to do, but she would require an explanation.

He laid back down again, staring at the ceiling. Why had he refused her? Oh yes. He had realized how important she was to him, how much he loved her and suddenly the idea of using her, or even having anyone think he was using her for sexual satisfaction was just too repulsive to bear. So he had wanted to step back and evaluate their relationship, what it meant to him, where it was headed. He didn't want her soiled in any way, or confuse his love with his lust. Well, he had an idea of what he wanted now. Maybe this couldn't be explained without suggesting marriage. But what would she think of that, in general and especially after a fight?

His head hurt a lot, but not as much as his heart ached. There had to be a way around this. Maybe if he just said it she would believe him. She loved him, didn't she, enough to trust him to be honest with her? Well, maybe that was a lot to ask. He had such a difficult time trusting in anyone himself, but he knew he could trust her implicitly, that she would never betray or abandon him, that she would follow him to the ends of the Earth and beyond if he asked her to. Yes, that was one thing he loved about her. He would do the same for her.

Well, whatever he had to say he had better say it fast or lose his nerve. Shaking himself, he rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. As he got ready for the day he went over in his mind what he wanted to say to her, the exact words, the looks. Should he touch her? No, he ought to just talk first and then if her response was favorable he could hold her or kiss her... He blinked, trying to dislodge the aftereffects of alcohol. He needed to be absolutely clear-headed for this.

Growing more determined and resolute in his decision, he washed and dressed in record time, adorning his nice clothes, down to the dress shirt and polished black shoes. He didn't wonder whether or not it suited him. There was no use worrying about "who he really was" anymore. He could be whatever she needed him to be, since he was no one without her. Even that line of thinking was untrue. He was still a person without her, a gundam pilot, a damn good soldier. He knew what he was about and he knew what he wanted. It was time to end all this self-doubt and low confidence. He'd never failed in anything before, and right now he wanted the girl. There was something about him that she loved and he could and would develop whatever strength she saw in him to use for her benefit as well as his. So she didn't know his real name, or his past, or...

He hesitated, shaking, his hand on the door. No, he couldn't allow himself to get side-tracked. She knew the worst stuff. She loved him anyway. What did it matter that he had no family, no schooling, no identity? He was Heero Yuy, that was his code name. It might as well be his real name. He didn't have another to replace it with anyway. He didn't have parents. There was no love in his past.

None of that mattered. He wanted the girl.

He stepped out into the hall and scanned the way for anyone who might be able to tell him where she had gone. The hallwy was empty, but he just kept walking. Where would she have run to after walking out on him? She had to have slept somewhere.

He made his way to Hilde and Duo's apartments, striding just beneath a run. He wished he had woken up a little eariler, but no matter; he would make the best of it. Taravren servants hurried by as he walked passed. The Palace seemed to be in a flurry of activity. Heero noticed, but he didn't wonder about it. Something to do with Damion probably. Everything that happened here had something to do with Damion. Right now, all Heero wanted was to find his girl.

He knocked on Duo's door, once softly, then a little louder.

"Hold on! Coming!"

Slowly, the door opened and Hilde appeared in the crack. She blinked at him and opened the door wider, but he didn't come in. "Gosh. Are you angry or something?"

He shook his head. Did he look angry? "No. I'm just... is Relena here?"

Hilde sighed. "She stayed here last night, but she's gone now. She looked terrible. She said you had gotten in a fight. What happened?"

"Do you know where I can find her?" he asked. "I need to talk to her."

Hilde shrugged. "She left early this morning, even before Duo got up. She did a really good job pretending everything was fine but she seemed pretty stressed out and anxious. I asked her if she was going to call you and she started crying."

He hated upsetting her. "All right," he said slowly.

"Try the gardens," Hilde suggested. "They're always deserted at this hour and she looked like someone who wanted to be alone."

Heero nodded, thanked Hilde quickly and strode away. He made his way to the gardens by memory, but was too distracted to enjoy the heavenly scents of blooming flowers, leaves and fresh earth and loam. His heart beat rapidly in his chest still at the thought of seeing her face. He was scared to say what he had to say, but the promise of relief loomed on the horizon. All he wanted to do was hold her, claim her.

He turned the corner and stopped suddenly, catching a glimpse of a hair trailing over the side of a bench. He could only see the back of the bench and that bit of hair, glistening gold in the sunlight, but he knew it was her, sleeping in the garden. She had probably falled asleep crying.

Softly, he approached until he was looking over the bench at her face. She was sleeping, angelic and beautiful, and she had been crying. The tears were dry on her face, still sparkling a little in the sunlight upon her pale cheeks. She was wearing a dress today, long and simple with the a bit of the shoulder exposed by a missing piece of fabric. Her arms were bare and beautiful, curled around her body, her hands tucked under head to make a cushion. Her hair spilled in all directions, over her neck and arms and shoulders, hiding her skin from his eyes with a lovely covering.

Just looking at her was pleasant torture. He knew that body of hers, clothed and unclothed, but she was particularly beautiful now, even though her sleep was one of grief instead of contentment, grief he had caused her. He understood grief. He understood her. Hesitantly, he reached down and touched her hair, threading it through his fingers, brushing it away from her slender neck.

She stirred and awoke, sitting up. He drew his hand back as her eyes, blue as the sky today, stared up at him. "Heero," she said quietly, and rose from the bench, standing up. There was a crushed look on her face when she recognized him, a look that smote his heart.

"Relena, I want to apologize," he began quickly, before she could bring him down. "I didn't mean what I said last night. It wasn't what I meant to say."

"Heero," she said softly, more softly than he had expected. She brushed hair out of her eyes. "Tell me why."

"I didn't want to upset you," he said. God, how he just wanted to hold her right now. "I just wanted things to be perfect for us. I want you, I do, but I want... more."

She looked confused, gazing up at him with those sparkling eyes. She was thinking, he knew. Was he saying what she wanted to hear? "What do you mean?" she asked slowly. Apparently not. He would try harder.

How to say this? "Relena, I've been thinking," he said urgently. His blood seemed to be pumping through his veins at a mile a minute now. His head swam with the heat of his body, pulsing with the pounding of his heart. He was perspiring. "I want you to understand how I feel about you, what you mean to me. Last night was a mistake. I don't want to fight. I just don't want anyone to think I've been using you. I don't want to feel guilting making love to you. Relena..." he took a deep breath. How do you feel about marriage? Do you love me? Would you marry me? He couldn't ask. Damn it, just say it! "Relena, I want to take care of you. I want to..." he swallowed, trying to convey with his eyes what he wanted to ask, but even if she understood, he knew he would still have to say it. But he could tell by looking at her that she didn't understand yet.

"Heero, what about all that stuff about me being too good for you? You've been so hot and cold lately, I..."

He shook his head dismissively. "Forget about that. I just... there's a lot you don't know about me. My real name isn't Heero, Relena."

She blinked. "I know," she replied. "Dr. J told me. I've always known that. But you're my Heero to me... unless you want to be called something else."

He began to breathe again. What was in a name? She was his girl; that's all he cared about; not her name. Had he even thought of her by name today? He never thought of her as "Relena Peacecraft" anymore. She was the girl, his girl, the only girl. Could he be the same for her? "Call me whatever you want," he said hoarsely. "Relena," he began again, and took her hand to give himself courage. He could feel the blood racing through the artery in her wrist. "I'm a soldier and I know I'm not what people would expect of you, but..." He took a deep breath and made the words come out, "I know you love me, that you've been faithful to me, and I..."

She bit her lip and tears suddenly flooded her eyes. He started in surprise. Tears? Relena was not much of a crier really, not unless she felt something very strongly. If she wanted this, it should be happiness from her, joy, gladness, not sentimental weeping. She was not that sentimental. She must still be upset then. His heart ached and he couldn't help himself. He couldn't stand to see her cry, to make her cry. Gently, he reached out for her, clasping her about the waist, but keeping space between them. With his other hand he caressed her cheekbones with the back of his thumb, sliding her tears away. "Don't cry, Relena," he said. "Please don't cry. I'm trying to tell you..."

She began to sob harder, convulsing. Pulling away from him, she brought her hands up to her face, weeping into her palms, hiding from him. He stood just inches from her, feeling helpless and rejected. "Relena?" he asked, afraid to touch her.

"Heero, I'm sorry!" she cried. "I know other people wouldn't think it such a big deal, but...."

What was she talking about? "What? Relena, what did I do?"

She shook her head violently and was suddenly in his arms again, touching his face with her cool, slender hands like she might never get the chance again. He clasped her, breathing in the scent of her hair, fingers clenching into her body, kneeding the folds of her clothes. His breathing grew audible to his own ears and heat burned in his chest and stomach and groin. He swallowed, holding her, wondering if anyone was around... She was staring straight into his eyes, pressed up close against him, but the desire there was quite overcome by fear and anxiety. She was trembling.

"Relena, what?" he murmured earnestly, controlling himself.

She closed her eyes and he leaned down to kiss her, but she shuddered when he drew close and pulled away, her hands falling down to his chest, pushing against him. "Heero, I...." she stalled, panting, her hands still on his chest. "After we fought last night, you and I, I ran to be by myself..."

He waited patiently, holding her arms. She dropped her gaze, no longer meeting his eyes. "Relena," he urged.

She spoke again as if kicked to continue. "Damion found me crying. He was upset over something that happened with Aurey. We talked and we were both drunk..." Her neck snapped back up, her eyes desperate and she tensed from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, every nerve quivering against him, tears shimmering in her eyes. "I swear to you, Heero, I didn't mean for it to happen! But.... I we..."

Slow realization dawned on him and he felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head. He had left her sad, angry and wanting. He remembered her enthusiasm for him last night, her hands all over him, murmuring naughty things into his ears all the way back to their rooms. She had pulled off more of his clothes than he had hers before he pushed her away in his drunken confusion. And she had run...to Damion. Anger burned in his stomach, worming its way deep inside. He shook, trying to think, or not think about what she was saying.

It took him a minute to realize she was talking to him. "Heero," she said urgently. The furious look he leveled on her might have knocked over a weaker woman. She swallowed at the shadowed rage in his eyes. "Heero, that came out wrong," she said firmly. "I didn't sleep with Damion or anything. God, do you think he would do that?"

Heero breathed as if he had forgotten how. The nightmare images ebbed away. She wouldn't be lying, would she, after seeing his reaction? Not about this surely. His grip on her arms tightened a little and she inhaled sharply, but she did not budge or ask him to be gentler. No, the princess was trying to be brave, facing danger. He did not want her to be his enemy.

"We kissed," Relena said, laying the words down empathetically, watching his face, still not moving.

He closed his eyes, trying to control a new swelling of raging jealousy.

Damion...! The thought came like a growl.

"Heero," she said, fearfully now. Something in his face must have shaken her. "Don't look like that! We kissed, nothing more. It didn't mean anything. We were both drunk and sad and it just happened. We both knew it was wrong. Please, I'm telling you because I love you, because I don't want you to find out some other way! Heero, are you listening to me?"

"You kissed him?" he snapped. His Relena, his! Faithful... He released her.

"Heero," she said, grabbing his arm. "Please. All those things you were saying to me. What did you mean?"

"Nothing!" he snapped. "Forget it!" It hurt to say that.

"Heero, don't. The kiss didn't mean anything! It was just some stupid thing that happened. I couldn't bear to keep it from you, especially, especially..." Her eyes pleaded with him. He had the insane urge to seize her right then and there. He wanted to kiss her so bad he could taste her already. He wanted to conquer her, in the flower beds, on the bench. That dress looked like it could come off fairly easily. He wanted to... He wanted to...

"Leave me alone!" he shouted at her, sweating, breathing hard. "I can't..." He put a hand to his face and tried to organize his thoughts. Who was he mad at? Relena, Damion, himself, all three?

It was just a kiss.

He couldn't make himself understand it. The stormy rage of his previous notion hadn't subsided, and he was jealous. Oh God, was he ever jealous. That's why he wanted her so bad right now. He wanted her forever. He wanted her to pine for him and just for him, to love him, to be his. He would take care of her. He loved her. She kissed Damion?

"Heero, stop this!" she exclaimed. "I know I messed up. I'm trying to make it better. Please!"

"What do you know?" he shouted at her. He never shouted at her. She was everything. She was all he had. "You don't know anything about me! You don't know what I want! You don't know why I am still here!"

"I thought it was because you loved me!" she cried in retort. "I'm sorry for what happened, but you've been nothing but horrible to me since we got here. You don't want to feel guilty sleeping with me? How do I know the sex just wasn't good enough? Maybe I don't know anything about you! How can I tell if you don't talk?"

He felt as if slapped, and it only made him angrier. Was she accusing him of the very thing of which he had tried to be blameless? He did not kiss anyone else! He did not run to someone else for comfort! "If that's what you want to think, go ahead," he said said darkly, and dismissed her by turning away. He felt like he was breaking up inside, like the bridge was crumbling and there was no way to save it. He felt his brow contort, his eyes grow cold.

There were tears in her voice now. "Heero, please. Talk to me! I can't always guess, Heero. I love you. Show me you love me. Tell me why you do."

So many reasons...but he couldn't pronounce a single one. He was too angry, too angry and too jealous.

"Fine," she said to his back with something like a choke. "If you can't tell me what you want or how you feel, maybe there's nothing there. Maybe I should have listened to my brother." She sniffled. He suddenly found that he wanted to turn around, apologize and start over, but he couldn't. His pride wouldn't let him.

That's when she shattered his world. "We're over, Heero. I can't do this anymore. If we can't resolve difficulties, there's just no use. I'm not an angel, Heero. I'm human too. I make mistakes. And so do you. But you have to pay for them. You have to pay."

He heard her retreating footsteps, the muffled cries, and felt his knees weaken. He stood still for a long moment in silence, angry, unsettled, fighting the torrent of emotion rolling in his gut. Too much fear, too much anguish, too much love. He couldn't bear it. He didn't understand.

All he wanted to do was make her his wife, and somehow he had lost her.