Warnings: yaoi, 1x2, T?WT, SAP (uck)

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and characters are not mine and I'm not making any money off of them, so don't sue!

Ack. Stuck at a Family Gathering, bored to death.

If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day
Till eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you

– from "Time In A Bottle", by Jim Croce –

Time In A Bottle
By: M.E.

Lying awake in bed, watching the light of the early morning sun creeping across the rumpled white sheets and the planes of your face. Trying hard to make the moments stretch out for as long as possible, attempting to deny the fact that day is here and I'll have to get up soon. Not succeeding, unfortunately.

Times, moments, instances like this one are rare in our hectic, dangerous lives. Sometimes it feels as if the only way we could ever have a chance to be happy together would be to choose a moment like this and simply freeze time.

Numbers on the clock change, they glow through the morning mist hanging in the air, appearing ghostlike. Six o'clock, almost time to get up, nearly time to leave you behind for the day, along with love and happiness and other things that belong in fairy tales.

Fairy tales are changeless through the centuries, it would appear. If anything, they only get happier. It's better that way.

Is it better this way? When we first started this, I thought that it was better to keep it this wayÐ physical forever touching and at the same time never really connecting. But now it's developed into something more, something bigger, transgressed onto a grander scale. Neither of us say the words, knowing that to even whisper them aloud may cause the moments to disappear, leaving us in a world where happiness doesn't exist.

So instead we use the lack of words to slow down time. Without words, everything takes on a dreamlike quality. In dreams there is no time. In dreams you always wake up before you hit the ground.

Outside, the sun continues to move upward in the sky, dawn turns into morning. The numbers on the clock change into six thirty and the alarm goes off. I slip out from between the sheets, you yawn, stretch, and growl at the clock, then rise and follow. As we leave the bed behind, time starts up again, and we become something different. Lover becomes warrior. Happiness becomes hardness.

Together we unbottle time for the day.


'Zel-chan, you owe me chocolate .
02.12.02