Title: "I hate Valentine's Day"
Author: Leo (heh, yep Makoto brought me out of the closet!)
Part: 1/1
Archived: not up yet
Warnings: Death... Hey, I'm the dark, angsty muse, I write that kind
of shit (oh yeah, bad language may be seen within this fic)
Pairings: 2+1+2
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don't own it, don't clame to, so leave me alone
Notes: I hate Valentine's Day, don't you? Sorry this is late, too
much on my mind. Duo's prespective.
"I hate Valentine's Day 1/1"
God, I hate this fucking day! Who's brilliant idea was it to create a
day that pretty much dictates when you are to be romantic? Isn't
romance a show of the feelings in one's heart? Thus, shouldn't it be
speratic? Why do you have to be all mushy just one day of the whole
fucking year? Do you only love them that one day?
No.
I love him everyday. With every breath I need him more. The thought
of him makes my pulse quicken, my mind race. And when I am lucky,
when I make some physical contact, it feels like the world is
trembling benieth my feet. I want to melt, ooze down into a puddle of
goo. My throat swells shut, making it hard to breath. But, I don't
care, for he is there. His existance makes my pain better, my
heartache heeled, my universe complete.
But, he doesn't know.
Wufei says, 'Tell him.'
How do you tell the 'Perfect Soldier' you love him? Send him a card?
A box of chocolates? Write him a poem?
Someones already beat me to it. Ms. Peacecraft has tried them all and
what does he do, wrip them up, though I must admit, I find some mirth
in this. Still, if she can't get him, how can I?
Trowa says, 'Show him.'
And risk a bloody nose or a bullet wound to the chest? I don't think
so. Heero is deffinatly not the type you can just go up to a plant a
big wet one on.
Then Quatre opens his mouth to speak, and I tremble in anticipation.
For in his infinate wisdom, in his magnificent secret knowledge, he
has managed to snag his own stoic pilot, thus I hold his advice above
all.
So I stare intently, watching his mouth open, his small tongue begin
to form the words, the tongue that holds the secret of the universe,
and just as the melodic sounds are about to dance their way into my
waiting ear, one Japanese pilot of Wing walks in and all goes quiet.
'Shit.' I mentally curse. 'Of all the times Heero had to show up!'
But for him, I simply slip on the wear-worn, tattered mask.
"Hey Heero."
"Hn."
---
As the witching hour nears, I realize I still haven't given him my
Valentine's gift. It was so hard to pick. I had torn apart every
store in site that day, but to no avail. The perfect gift just could
not be found.
Then it hit me.
There is one gift. One, single, solitary gift he might actually take
notice of...
I know he hates me. It's evident in the way he casts those annoyed
grunts. Those, 'Hns' that basically mean, 'Go away baka, I have no
time for you.'
So, why not give him what he wants?
Will you cry for me Heero when you find me dead on the ground? Will
you sob out a desperate, 'Why Duo? Why didn't you just tell me?' or
will you just remain your impassive self.
I'm sorry Heero, I just wanted you to notice me. I'm sorry this had
to be the way.
Ironic it had to be this day, the day I loathe above all that I end
it. It's almost cruel that my passing will be associated with it, but
that's fate.
So, before you burry me into the war-torn ground, and say your final
goody-byes, I want you to know how I feel. I wrote it in that card
that lies near my once warm flesh. Don't bother reading it, I'll tell
you what it says:
Dear Heero,
I love you, now and on into eternity.
Happy V-day.
-Duo
~*Fin*~
Author: Leo (heh, yep Makoto brought me out of the closet!)
Part: 1/1
Archived: not up yet
Warnings: Death... Hey, I'm the dark, angsty muse, I write that kind
of shit (oh yeah, bad language may be seen within this fic)
Pairings: 2+1+2
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don't own it, don't clame to, so leave me alone
Notes: I hate Valentine's Day, don't you? Sorry this is late, too
much on my mind. Duo's prespective.
"I hate Valentine's Day 1/1"
God, I hate this fucking day! Who's brilliant idea was it to create a
day that pretty much dictates when you are to be romantic? Isn't
romance a show of the feelings in one's heart? Thus, shouldn't it be
speratic? Why do you have to be all mushy just one day of the whole
fucking year? Do you only love them that one day?
No.
I love him everyday. With every breath I need him more. The thought
of him makes my pulse quicken, my mind race. And when I am lucky,
when I make some physical contact, it feels like the world is
trembling benieth my feet. I want to melt, ooze down into a puddle of
goo. My throat swells shut, making it hard to breath. But, I don't
care, for he is there. His existance makes my pain better, my
heartache heeled, my universe complete.
But, he doesn't know.
Wufei says, 'Tell him.'
How do you tell the 'Perfect Soldier' you love him? Send him a card?
A box of chocolates? Write him a poem?
Someones already beat me to it. Ms. Peacecraft has tried them all and
what does he do, wrip them up, though I must admit, I find some mirth
in this. Still, if she can't get him, how can I?
Trowa says, 'Show him.'
And risk a bloody nose or a bullet wound to the chest? I don't think
so. Heero is deffinatly not the type you can just go up to a plant a
big wet one on.
Then Quatre opens his mouth to speak, and I tremble in anticipation.
For in his infinate wisdom, in his magnificent secret knowledge, he
has managed to snag his own stoic pilot, thus I hold his advice above
all.
So I stare intently, watching his mouth open, his small tongue begin
to form the words, the tongue that holds the secret of the universe,
and just as the melodic sounds are about to dance their way into my
waiting ear, one Japanese pilot of Wing walks in and all goes quiet.
'Shit.' I mentally curse. 'Of all the times Heero had to show up!'
But for him, I simply slip on the wear-worn, tattered mask.
"Hey Heero."
"Hn."
---
As the witching hour nears, I realize I still haven't given him my
Valentine's gift. It was so hard to pick. I had torn apart every
store in site that day, but to no avail. The perfect gift just could
not be found.
Then it hit me.
There is one gift. One, single, solitary gift he might actually take
notice of...
I know he hates me. It's evident in the way he casts those annoyed
grunts. Those, 'Hns' that basically mean, 'Go away baka, I have no
time for you.'
So, why not give him what he wants?
Will you cry for me Heero when you find me dead on the ground? Will
you sob out a desperate, 'Why Duo? Why didn't you just tell me?' or
will you just remain your impassive self.
I'm sorry Heero, I just wanted you to notice me. I'm sorry this had
to be the way.
Ironic it had to be this day, the day I loathe above all that I end
it. It's almost cruel that my passing will be associated with it, but
that's fate.
So, before you burry me into the war-torn ground, and say your final
goody-byes, I want you to know how I feel. I wrote it in that card
that lies near my once warm flesh. Don't bother reading it, I'll tell
you what it says:
Dear Heero,
I love you, now and on into eternity.
Happy V-day.
-Duo
~*Fin*~