Quatre stalled before beginning to read the next page. He saw the date... and he knew it. It was engraved in his mind. That day he didn't think much of when it was happening, but it was the repercussions of it that were everything. The heart of his guilt. That day he had broken her spirit as well as her heart. He ruffled through the next several pages, finding what he was afraid of. There was a gap of months between two of the upcoming entries. The blond boy shuddered as he thought about what happened during those months. It scared him to death... children weren't meant to see such things or experience such trials. Never. And it was his fault.
He wished he was just saying that as if to find someone to blame... but Quatre knew. This journal proved it. She left on her own will, yes, but because of him. He dropped the journal into his lap as his hands balled into angry fists... infuriated with himself, gritting his teeth to prevent himself from screaming. The guilt had become a demon that had dug it's claws deep into the Arabian's soul, and tore at him viciously with ravenous fangs... not to mention the occasional pitchfork that twisted into his side during the demon's feast. She had forgiven him... Trowa, long ago, forgave him... the colonies, his family, all the others... forgave him. So why was he at a lost to do so himself?
----
Dear Diary,
It's only about mid-morning. Pretty early for writing, huh? I think so, too. But with the different people here working, Rubella's finding ways to make me do more nothing than ever. I'd play or something if I had someone to play with. Tomorrow, I think, Master Woofie is leaving. His stuff is all packed up. But like every morning he was still doing his "kata." That's what he said it was. Well he didn't tell ME that... he told Rubella when she yelled at me for being a snoop. Master Woofie sir said that it was okay 'cause I'm just a girl anyway. Rubella got this mean look on her face and went away, I don't know why. I am a girl, aren't I?
So I sat watching him for a while. I think Rubella was happy 'cause I found something to do. That didn't involve following Master Quatre or Master Trowa. She really doesn't like me following them around. 'specially if they're together. I dun mean to follow them around, really! The estate is big, but it's not THAT big. Well it is, but I was bound to just see them around, right? Right.
Master Woofie is pretty good at that kung fu stuff. He's graceful like. He looks lots older than Master Quatre, but the cook said that him and his friends are all the same age. Six years older than me. Sounds like a whole lot... but Mommy was A LOT younger than Daddy, or so people say. I just kinda watched. There wasn't much I could do 'cause I couldn't do the kicks and stuff in my skirt, and I dun think Master Woofie would let me play with his sword. I'm kinda hungry so I think I'm gonna go see if lunch is cooking.
----
Quatre looked the page over. He checked the date again... then he read it over several times until it registered that she had written this before the - incident. He didn't want to think of her playing with Master Woofie--Wufei's sword in any sense of the word. It was frankly disturbing. But he supposed he might as well get used to it... Quatre's eyes narrowed.
He was afraid. Afraid to read the next page. It would have to be after the fact. He closed his eyes and lay back on the bed and went through the entire day in his head for the one millionth time.
~flashback~
Quatre wasn't one to have bad days. But this was one of them. It was the morning after Trowa had first moved into the same quarters. This decision was mutual of course... but their first night together hadn't been what the Winner boy had expected at all. Hadn't they spent many a day falling asleep under the clear skies in the afternoon? Why should nightfall be any different? He didn't want to show it, but he couldn't help it. The blonde's usually alabaster calm and cheery perfection was in the least tainted by a vein which seemed to like to appear at the side of his neck when he clenched his fist.
'What was his problem?' it really disturbed Quatre. The couple had never been intimate in ways... or publicly affectionate. But when they were alone, Trowa would gladly take Quatre's hand or offer a loose embrace. Why should it make any difference that they were laying side by side?
Quatre stewed behind the desk in the study. He thought if he did some reading or some work of some kind it would take his mind off it. Quite the opposite. He usually did his work side by side with Trowa. Or Trowa did it and showed Quatre step by step what he was doing. Everything revolved around their relationship now... Trowa had to know that by now. So why was he so distant? Was he having second thoughts? Maybe the decision had been more Quatre's than Trowa's... but...
~flashback in flashback~
He had been in bed before Trowa settled down on the other end. Quatre was thrilled to say the least... his blood was pumping in all the right places just from Trowa being there so near... He wasn't quite going to press *that* issue, but just the intimacy of sharing a bed was such a fulfilling deal for the young Winner. But nothing happened. No, less than nothing. Trowa turned away from him... given him the cold shoulder. Making his warm blood now chilled, like the rest of the room had suddenly become. When Quatre tried to reach for him, or inconspicuously cuddle, Trowa shrugged him off. Which was easy for Trowa being generally bigger. The brush off had prevented Quatre from sleeping causing the soft circles that appeared beneath his eyes. Although it wasn't the only thing.
Quatre didn't notice when they were sprawled out on the lawn staring up at the sky and lulled to sleep by the calm breeze that... Trowa kicks. He squirms violently. Quatre had bruises along his side to prove it. True, Trowa didn't know his own strength, but this was ridiculous. He was obviously having a bad dream, or SOME kind of dream that required A LOT of movement... when Quatre's mind went off in that (northward) direction, it made sleep even harder to find. So naturally... the paternal/maternal side of Quatre... alongside the hormonal side, reached out again, trying to lull the thrashing Trowa, even blowing softly at his neck and ear to uhm imitate the passing breeze, yeah. He was rewarded with a moan. Which formed the wrong name. The wrong name being ANY name that didn't somehow resemble "Quatre."