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Disclaimer: Me do not own Gundam wing characters.
~*~*~
His lean body interrupted the stillness of the woods—feet unearthing the soft soil that clung to the rim of his boots. No orange specks animated the clouds that hung low. Their sheer hands touching the green leaves with morning dew.
Green eyes surveyed about the pathway, which was surrounded by trees and shrubbery that matched the beholder's eyes. Was it right for him to be here? Did it matter? Oddly enough, his heart answered him with quick series of thumping. He sighed. Yes it did matter. Hands inside his pockets, he neither paused nor quickened his pace but continued on as before.
He shook his head. It was easier for him when he had no name. When he was nothing more but a shadow of a man. Hidden from the light that had often caused others to stumble. Yet a blue-eyed angel just had to reach out to him with a blinding light that penetrated the darkness that surrounded him. The brilliance of it, gradually warming his numb heart. A mistake he could have easily prevented. He should have been stronger.
Unconsciously his hand run through his light brown hair, allowing him to catch sight of a silver band, which bounded his finger. He stared at it. Five years of marriage to the one he loved. Loved?
He could easily picture his lover's kind face, a genuine smile often manifesting it. His body felt light, reliving the feeling as the coldness melted with his lover's touch. They were of two different worlds—different backgrounds. He was a mercenary, while the other only fought out of kindness. The blonde Arab's emphatic attitude towards him gave them a strong ground for friendship, which later then flourished to something wonderful. There was no question about it. He was truly content in Quatre's companionship and vice versa.
When, then, did he recoil from the light? When did the warm sensation in his heart left him wasted with misery? He took off the wedding band and was met by the white mark it left in his finger. It smirked at him, indulging in the emptiness that he felt. Why did he have to care about him? Wasn't it enough that Dorothy regarded him differently?
He should have been alerted by the unending silence that grew between him and Quatre. But silence to him was not foreign. It was where he often thrived. Therefore he dismissed it.
But he couldn't dismiss the rumors that began to grow, as well as the suspicions he began to bear. A rueful smile befell on his lips. Who could have thought that the woman incapable of weeping could learn to love? Yet in the unspoken silence, neither him nor Quatre admitted the presence of the growing rift between them. The foreboding truth wrapped in perfected imitation of happiness. He again placed the ring back in its pedestal of lies.
He stopped short upon seeing the cabin before him. He only intended it to be a mere distraction for his empty heart. But he was still weak and his dependence on her was tightening around him. They were old acquaintances and they never bothered to cross the boundary to become friends. They were too preoccupied with their own lives.
She had this look of innocence that made her look seductive yet charming. She could charm almost everyone excluding a certain comrade of his, who only labored for missions that would maintain peace. It took them only one rendezvous, to become aware of the similarities of their situation.
He felt frustrated with Quatre, and she felt saddened by Heero's indifferent demeanor. By accident her hand brushed his and to both of their surprise they left them there. Their eyes locking—an understanding quickly passing between them.
Her kisses were sweet and taunting—provoking him to return them with fervor. He remembered drowning himself with her scent of vanilla. Her slender fingers enrapturing his slick shoulders in pleasure—firmly creating patterns in response to his shameless nibbling of the flesh in her neck. It happened too fast, but in that short interval he felt nothing but pleasure. No ache, no emptiness. And the light that haunted him faded from his sight.
He felt a part of his heart nagged him with guilt, while the other encouraged him with sadness. His eyes again fell on the ring in his hand. Its bright glint causing him to frown. He shook his head and walked towards the door. He needed the shade she offered from the light that had caused him to stumble.
~Finis.
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