Part 3: Le Soir - Toxic Kiss

Wufei wandered on the streets of the city. He walked along the black stained streets and the cement sidewalks spotted with old gum stepped upon by the soles of many people. He walked past the stores that had just opened and were prepping up for the morning's sales and clients to come in. He walked bit by bit as the day wore on, the sun rising and falling over an arched track across the clear sky.

He thought upon the foolish action he had took only the day before, and how he had revealed a weakness he had hoped never to show to anyone. Perhaps only one of an intimate level would gain his trust and would be able to hold the key to all his doubts and worries and fears, but as of the current now, no one was qualified to fill that position. Especially not Duo Maxwell.

Duo, in any case and form, was probably the loud mouth of the group. Filling the silence with bitter jokes or a random conversation about another pilot was what he did. However, telling of another pilot's shortfalls was something Wufei was sure Duo wouldn't do, but might do unconsciously as a tidbit of any casual conversation with the others. He couldn't afford that chance. Not now, not ever.

As a Gundam pilot, enshrouding the secrets of his former life as a child, as a boy, bottling them up in an air-tight enclosure, was simply necessary. A part of him needed to do that in order to keep on living, to keep on moving on, past the pain, past the suffering of the tests that challenged his own strength, his endurance, and his will. What was meant to be encouragement was the setting stone for yet another test, another test in which he had to pass or fail and die in a sea of regret, loathing, and hopelessness that only the lonely living undead would find in the empty slots of their brains that used to register emotions and other joys that made up a good life and one worth living. However, he had given that title up. He was no longer a Gundam pilot, but his brain and heart refused to believe it. He was a Preventer, but inside, he was still the same. Inside, he refused to listen to his own pleas.

A car alarm went off. A baby's pleats and cries echoed from a street corner. A beep from a car horn sounded as cars sped down in multicolor boxes of smooth and sleek metal, racing to beat the red light. Noise and chaos traveled from the door of a café which was brewing delicate aromas of coffees and the morning ramble of college students and people hurrying for their quick dose of legal drugs before becoming half zombies as they went on their daily programming to work to tow money back into the box that held either a family or a home in it.

The young man observed all this, his steps never faltering, his look never changing, his senses alert and keen as they always were. Such a posture and confidence would be a gift to anyone of his age, but little did anyone know that they just were the fitted costumes of his part in the play offstage the game of war. And in that game, he was just like any other player, except possibly made of more durable and stronger plastic that was melted into a larger mold. Yet, just like the others, in one strategic move, he'd be out of the game or burned and disfigured under the flame of death in rotting fumes that poisoned the very air he took within his lungs while he watched every step he took, covered the lack of self-esteem with false confidence, and made sure no one suspicious was lurking around in case his identity would be revealed.

'Stop,' he demanded. The war was over. Or was it? No, it'd never be over. Not for someone like him.

He reminded himself that he wasn't supposed to be out in public. He was supposed to be holed up in the safety of his "safe house" but the fact that a certain other person was there after an uncomfortable and awkward situation was none too appealing.

Why was it even awkward in the first place? Why did it have to be awkward? If only he had faith in his fellow ex-pilot, then he could've confessed of every damage made to harm him, every gash cut to grind him down till it gnawed at the very bone of hope and poured salt water all over itself to make the victim scream with pain. But, he had chosen the hard and often ill path of silence and ignorance. Pretend it never happened, and it would all be alright in the end, as do all the cliché pop songs often say. If only that magical, nonexistent person would come and save him from the masses of self-mutilating thoughts, he'd be glad to live in a candy-covered, sugar colored world of the imagined.

Then, there was reality. The front door which opened to the rusty metal staircase that had dents in the center of the steps. The actual steps that led down a short hallway. The hallway, with dirty and chipped paint along its barriers till it ended at the last beaten down door. The hardly considered strong door that opened yet to another room which he was forced to call home. And the person he was supposed to consider as a friend.

Friend. It was a distasteful word that lead to a false concept, though it held the pretense of being nice. Of being...friendly. It was a snake that bit into the ankle of its victim, and held it in suffering till the poison crept up the leg and into the blood, eventually choking the life out of its form. On the other hand, that snake was most likely provoked first either consciously or subconsciously to bother snapping at the person.

Maybe he was that person testing the snake's accuracy with only a stick and his wits at hand. He couldn't afford to lose his life, but he went poking and prodding anyway, matching each strength to the snake's till either one struck first. The main concern was who would attack and finish with a kill.

"Wufei! Where have ya been buddy?" Duo walked up to him, each arm occupied with piles of grocery bags. "You never told me we ran outta food."

"Oh," Wufei said nonchalantly and realized that he was outside of his rundown apartment.

"So, where've you been?" Duo inquired again, fumbling with his keys, then dropping them.

Wufei swiftly picked the dropped keys up and offered them to the other boy. "Nowhere," he said while Duo reached for the keys, their fingers touching the lightest of touches, sending electric fire through Duo's arm as he stared into the dark abysses of Wufei's eyes, that single word coming from his full lips meaning more than he would've ever considered it to define.

Nowhere...

There was such emptiness in the tone of his voice that Duo thought he was looking at a ghost or corpse, fascinated in its materialization. How cold Wufei's fingers were made the thought linger till Duo saw the faint rosy tint on Wufei's cheeks because of how cold it was outside. 'Beautiful...' Duo thought, then abruptly realized he was thinking of his fellow Preventer in ways he hadn't even considered before with anyone else. Then, he noticed that he was staring at the other pilot made the blood rise to his face. He looked away immediately in hope that his companion had not taken notice of his blushing, though the dark eyes were also pinned on him.

Letting out a low, throaty chuckle, Duo said, "Well, nowhere sounds like a great place to be," and turned the key, unlocking the door.

'Maybe so, but it's also the worst place to be,' Wufei thought, his hands in his pockets.

Wufei stared at Duo as he gently rested the brown grocery bags onto the kitchen counter. He watched the shadows of the wrinkles in his black shirt thin and disappear, then pop out again as the boy began taking various objects out of the bags. He looked at Duo's arms, the muscles flexing as his hands strained to keep a hold on a carton of milk, the knuckles and the bones paling as the skin stretched over them.

The silent boy continued with his observations, taking sanctuary in the cold hands of the corner shadows, watching the other continue his chores, comparing the light and dark of his clothes, of his skin toned in the half sunlight, and the visions of his cheery smile twisting into a dangerous frown.

Wufei scowled at this. Duo was a boy with two extremes. Good and evil. Two sides of a coin. Light and Dark. Though his humor was usually always mixed with a tinge of sarcasm, he never failed to smile in a time of need or express his emotions which flared within himself so passionately that they overwhelmed and engulfed anyone and everyone around him. He was a warm Life. Hidden under those emotions burned a deep seed of anger with fear being its core. He was capable of killing ruthlessly, any opponent, laughing in his victories. He was a cold Death.

Fascinated with his new discovery, Wufei probed deeper into the other boy, who was of course, oblivious. The light and the dark were entwined in a double helix that was the boy called Duo. Get on his good side, and you were forever soaring in his joyous smile. Get on his bad side, and you were forever plunging in his bitter laughter.

"Hey, Wufei, could you help me out here?" Duo asked, standing near the cracked kitchen ceiling lamp.

Wufei begrudgingly walked into the tiled room. "What?" he asked, disinterested.

"I need to put these dishes up on the top shelf..." then flustered, he added, "I can't reach it."

Ignoring the other boy's slight embarrassment, Wufei took the plates from his hand and reached up to put them onto the shelf; he closed the cabinet door. He stood only a few inches taller than Duo, but perhaps that made all the difference. Or maybe, it didn't.

When he turned to Duo, he was met with violet chasms that broke through irises bright with life. They seemed to express that they were not the eyes of Death. Then, how could Duo, with his bright eyes, such vibrant eyes, have killed so many with the hands of a ruthless and sometimes sadistic murderer?

Snapping back to reality, Wufei realized that he was staring at Duo, who in turn, had been staring at him. Snickering, Wufei tore his gaze away from Duo who still looked at him in confusion. Wufei could feel it. How Duo thought of him as an enigma. And he smiled.

"Say, what do you wanna do tonight?" Duo asked casually, suddenly at Wufei's side. "I don't think you really liked the club last time. Why'd you leave without telling me?"

Wufei frowned. "Rubbing myself against strangers was and is not my idea of a fun time; it seems like it is yours."

"Hooking up with hot girls? Now, even I can't refuse that offer," Duo grinned, but immediately sobered. "So, what happened after you left?" he questioned further.

The other boy sensed that his companion was trying to lead him somewhere. Shrugging, he replied, "I came back here. Where else? You know the rest." Wufei grimaced. He shouldn't have drank that much liquor that day. He had unknowingly given up much of what had been personal out into the open for Duo to see, and he deeply resented that.

But those violet eyes and pale skin, the warmth of his body, the tremendous feeling...feeling of something. Was it pity? He needed none of that. Still no. It wasn't pity he was sensing. It was concern. No one should be concerned with an expendable, worthless piece of trash like himself. Sending Duo a warning glare, he silently told him to back off. He didn't need him or the warmth that was promised by his tranquil eyes. He didn't need any of it. He only needed himself, and he only depended on himself. Right, keep telling yourself that Wufei. Keep pretending that you're not dying and being eaten alive by the disease called loneliness.

Glaring and with tense muscles, Wufei sidestepped Duo and headed to his room before he lost control of himself.