A/N: I have only recently become interested in Gundam Wing, I only watch it occasionally. I'm more interested in the characters and beautiful drawings than the show its self *ooh aren't I the diehard fan ^-^* On to my story!!!
I did this at 11:30 – 1 a.m. at night, I just had to get it out of system, (you authors out there know what I mean)
This ain't no lemon…just fluffy really (oh Zechs! *^-^*)
tread softly
on hearts
Oxana DeBeaurier walked up the twisting stone staircase of the mansion. She had grown up in the hundred-year-old structure, and knew every room and hallway to the finest detail from the long winters she had spent indoors. The light from the flame of her lantern flickered from the wind up the enclosure, its dark stone walls sturdy, but barely airtight from the cold winter months. The flame lit her up her face, it's light dancing off the walls and lighting her path, even though, if need be, she could do it in the pitch dark. She finally reached the end of the steps; to the ordinary person, the blank stone seemed to be a dead end, but Oxana applied the perfect amount of pressure for the hidden entrance to reveal itself – the large door sliding to the side. The secret passage had been a source of great adventures and excitement for her as a child, originally developed during the warring periods of her country so that the master of the house could easily escape to the stables. Now it was a ticket to meeting her salvation, maybe her last ray of hope for being with the man that she had fallen in love with at such a young age. Now, eighteen, she was a woman, and wanted desperately to make him realize it.
On the other side of the wall, only a few lamps lighted the heavily tapestried room, the heavenly being residing within prepared himself to sleep. When all of a sudden, a large, painted mural began to move, then the wall shifted, and slid to the side, revealing the trespasser that had come to bid him farewell. While the initial shock wore off, Lieutenant Zechs smiled at the sight of his childhood sweetheart. A year older than her in age, he had often considered himself the perfect age for Oxana, and her softly flowing nightgown and long, unbraided red hair that drifted softly to her waste stirred emotions in him that reminded him of her womanhood. She was eighteen now; part of him being here was to send his congratulations to her in person, this occasion of her becoming an adult. She walked into the room, setting his heart aflutter, and turned to put down her lamp on a table. She then silently slid the well-used door back into its place, its seams invisible within the detailed mural. She turned to him smiling, he was wearing his nightclothes, off-white silk pants and an open shirt, with few buttons done up. He was still handsome as ever, his ice blue eyes sparkling, even in the dim light of the room. His sun blonde hair resting around his shoulders – and down his back – longer than she had ever seen it before. She had often teased him for it as children, at one time it had been longer than hers.
"Hello, Milliardo." She whispered, not wanting to disturb the slumbering neighbor in the next room that was her father. Her voice was like a soft bell, beautiful like the wind, and entranced him so. He remembered her eyes; they hadn't changed a bit, almost orange from the red flecks in them against the brown iris. She truly was beautiful, and a treasure soon to be married off to any well to do man. He returned her smile as she walked closer to him, he towered over her being six feet, for she only came up to his chin. They embraced, a friendship rekindled as he rested his head on hers in remembrance. They broke apart and he sat down on the high, hard bed, and she joined him beside him, pulling her legs up underneath herself. He remembered how they had spent many nights like this, just talking, hours on end into the night, about life and love and – war. He turned his gaze away from her angelic features to compose himself. He could not feel this way, not if he was to be a good soldier. She had always told him to follow his heart if ever in doubt about a moral situation, not be an ethically stoic commander. Her advice had proven good in some situations, but what if he followed his heart now? What if he followed through his attraction to her? He couldn't. If he did, he would have to go back to headquarters tomorrow, no matter what. If he didn't, could he live the rest of his life with her, have children and grow old, knowing he was a deserter? His love for her or the Sanc Kingdom. He couldn't choose, he wouldn't, he wouldn't do something he felt so true, if would only break her heart. He couldn't do that to her.
Oxana stared at him, perplexed at his pained face. What could he be thinking of, debating in his head that would make him so despondent? She extended her hand and lay it atop his, her warmth soothing him. He returned her glance, and assured the worried look in her eyes with a smile.
"Don't worry about me." He chided. Still he could tell she sensed his uneasiness. She broke the silence.
"I don't want you to go, Mill," She called him, a childhood nickname. She held his hand tighter and he looked down at it, her soft skin against his – he imagined a wedding ring on that finger. Then shook his head, he couldn't. "it's been wonderful with you here the past few days." She said, he never wanted to forget that voice, he closed his eyes, memorizing it's blissful sound. "I wish, that we could be together." Milliardo opened his eyes. If she was true, which he knew her to be, and they devoted themselves to each other, how could he submit her to the threat of never seeing him again. "Milliardo, I – want to be with you." The soldier turned his head away from her, clenching his jaw hard, his eyes tight so that not one tear would escape. He couldn't, he couldn't submit. He was going back to HQ tomorrow, no matter what. And would not let one night of blissful surrender ruin what they had. Maybe after the wars were over, maybe then, he could be with her. Finally the man composed himself and turned to her, grasping her delicate hand in both of his.
"Please, Oxana, I cannot. Not now, when I'm leaving tomorrow." The girl avoided his glance, fear that one look into his saline eyes would tear down the barrier of her composure. "I, feel the same way, but – "
"Then why can't it be?" she pleaded with him, interrupting his mediocre excuse. At last looking into his eyes, meeting them with her own tear-filled ones.
"I cannot love you then turn my back on you. You know more than anyone my devotion the Sanc Kingdom, I can't leave you here, not knowing whether or not I will ever return." His voice was desperate. Oxana lowered her head, succumbing to her sadness as sobs racked her body. Zechs wrapped his arms around her and drew her close, he inhaled her sweet fragrance - he would never forget. He buried his face in her hair, why did everything have to be so complicated? Why couldn't he just love, and not worry about the consequences?
Oxana rested her head on his shoulder, every emotion she had coming out with those tears. Love for him, hate for the wars, sadness – all she wanted was to be with him, why was that so hard? She breathed in his scent – of cologne and sweat, the scent that was Milliardo Peacecraft, Zechs Merquise. She was a woman now, and he was a man, but there was so much more to it than that. Oxana returned his gesture by wrapping her arms around him, holding their bodies close to keep her sobs at bay. Her lips hovered above his neck; she placed them on his strong, muscled shoulder, never wanting to let go.
Zechs held the delicate woman close, she needed him now, to be there for her if nothing else. He held her tight, the sensation comforting her as her tears slowed, his arms around the small of her back and holding her head. Why this couldn't last forever, they didn't know; the fates curse, time always went by too quickly during love and peace, and seemed to prevail during war and hate. Zechs sighed with resignation when the small woman's tears were finally assuaged.
"Here," he draped a woolen blanket around her shoulders, and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "let's sleep in the same bed tonight, just like old times." She smiled, and they crawled over the large, royal sheets and under the covers. She nestled closer to him, taking comfort in his strength, close enough to hear his heartbeat, which lulled her to sleep. Zechs put an arm around her, she was so beautiful - he had a purpose for coming back from the wars alive. When her calm, even breathing commenced, signifying her exhausted sleep, he leaned his head close to her and gently rested his lips on her forehead.
"I will come back for you, I promise." He whispered, and they fell asleep in each other's arms.
The End.