Chapter Six
Trowa slumped against the door. Quatre had kissed Duo! Why? Didn't Quatre always say that he loved him? Didn't they always say they would never forgot that? That they would always love each other? Even though some couples don't mean it, that they do? Quatre...? The tears fell unchecked down Trowa's face. They dropped on the carpet and stained it with sorrow. The carpet absorbed his dissolving love.
Like his mask would.
Trowa got off the floor and walked to a desk. He picked up the half-face mask that he kept. He kept it to remember Catherine and the circus. Touching the mask brought back so many memories, so many sad, lonely nights in his trailer. Catherine trying to get him to smile so bad. Catherine...Catherine's tears. The only thing that had kept him from self-detonation.
There were no tears now though. Only his. Why should he care? The only thing that had kept him alive now had betrayed him. Maybe he should...maybe he should self-detonate. There was no reason not to now. He placed the mask up to his face.
The memory of the daggers flying by his face rushed him as he looked in the mirror. The memories of the lions that were his friends. The lions that sometimes kept him warm at night. And Catherine. Why did she keep coming back in his mind? Why? She wasn't important to him. Then why?
He placed the mask nearer his sweaty skin. The flashbacks came faster and stronger. They were clearer. The images were sharper. His skin started to become more clammy the closer he moved it to his face. He was sweating profusely with the mask a mere few inches from his face.
"Trowa? Can we talk?" Quatre head slipped through the doorway. "Please? I have something I want to tell you." Trowa turned towards Quatre's voice. What could he want? The mask brushed his face as he moved his head. A sudden flash raced through his mind of Catherine. The moment lasted only that, a moment, but went on forever. A sweatdrop fell from his forehead onto the mask.
Quatre opened the door a bit more and stepped in the room. He was holding his slacks by the sides, something he only did when he was nervous. He walked in a little farther. He went up to Trowa and put his hand on the side of Trowa's face. Trowa cradled his face in the warmth of Quatre's small hand. Then he pulled himself back. Not after what he did to me.
"I'm kind of busy, Quatre. Why don't you talk to Duo or Heero?" Trowa said, sadder by the second that Quatre hadn't just said that he had kissed Duo. Why didn't he say so? Why is he hiding it from me? We tell each other everything. Why won't he tell me this?
Quatre backed up from Trowa, confused. His eyes started to water and he backed out the door whispering "Okay, Trowa. That's fine. We can talk later..." He closed the door behind him. Trowa turned towards the mask that was still in his hand. Why hadn't Quatre asked what was wrong? He knows that I only take my mask out when I need it. Doesn't he care for me anymore? No, he doesn't. If he had, he wouldn't have kissed Duo. He doesn't care....
Trowa slumped against the door. Quatre had kissed Duo! Why? Didn't Quatre always say that he loved him? Didn't they always say they would never forgot that? That they would always love each other? Even though some couples don't mean it, that they do? Quatre...? The tears fell unchecked down Trowa's face. They dropped on the carpet and stained it with sorrow. The carpet absorbed his dissolving love.
Like his mask would.
Trowa got off the floor and walked to a desk. He picked up the half-face mask that he kept. He kept it to remember Catherine and the circus. Touching the mask brought back so many memories, so many sad, lonely nights in his trailer. Catherine trying to get him to smile so bad. Catherine...Catherine's tears. The only thing that had kept him from self-detonation.
There were no tears now though. Only his. Why should he care? The only thing that had kept him alive now had betrayed him. Maybe he should...maybe he should self-detonate. There was no reason not to now. He placed the mask up to his face.
The memory of the daggers flying by his face rushed him as he looked in the mirror. The memories of the lions that were his friends. The lions that sometimes kept him warm at night. And Catherine. Why did she keep coming back in his mind? Why? She wasn't important to him. Then why?
He placed the mask nearer his sweaty skin. The flashbacks came faster and stronger. They were clearer. The images were sharper. His skin started to become more clammy the closer he moved it to his face. He was sweating profusely with the mask a mere few inches from his face.
"Trowa? Can we talk?" Quatre head slipped through the doorway. "Please? I have something I want to tell you." Trowa turned towards Quatre's voice. What could he want? The mask brushed his face as he moved his head. A sudden flash raced through his mind of Catherine. The moment lasted only that, a moment, but went on forever. A sweatdrop fell from his forehead onto the mask.
Quatre opened the door a bit more and stepped in the room. He was holding his slacks by the sides, something he only did when he was nervous. He walked in a little farther. He went up to Trowa and put his hand on the side of Trowa's face. Trowa cradled his face in the warmth of Quatre's small hand. Then he pulled himself back. Not after what he did to me.
"I'm kind of busy, Quatre. Why don't you talk to Duo or Heero?" Trowa said, sadder by the second that Quatre hadn't just said that he had kissed Duo. Why didn't he say so? Why is he hiding it from me? We tell each other everything. Why won't he tell me this?
Quatre backed up from Trowa, confused. His eyes started to water and he backed out the door whispering "Okay, Trowa. That's fine. We can talk later..." He closed the door behind him. Trowa turned towards the mask that was still in his hand. Why hadn't Quatre asked what was wrong? He knows that I only take my mask out when I need it. Doesn't he care for me anymore? No, he doesn't. If he had, he wouldn't have kissed Duo. He doesn't care....
