Part 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing
Warning: Shounen ai, OOC with a purpose and angst
Discription: Trowa's gone. Quatre angst's (Geez I suck at this...)
~*~*~
The young Winner tossed fitfully under ivory sheets, dreams haunted by visions of a lean figure and bright emerald eyes. When his schedule allowed him to sleep he never seemed to get any and wound up getting up the next morning even more exhausted than he had been before.
The other ex-pilots visit had sparked memories he rather wished had stayed locked away. He didn't much feel like thinking of the times he and Trowa had met up during the war. They hadn't been together very often during those times but had made their moments with each other count. After the end of the war they had been constantly together. Quatre had thought that Trowa was happy. He certainly had acted like it. There always seemed to be a smile hovering over the taller boys lips.
Trowa had made Quatre's life tolerable. He had been able to sleep and had even had time off. Trowa always insisted that he take off a week every few months for a break. Quatre's happiest moments were when he'd arrive home from work to find Trowa at the front door to shuffle him upstairs for some much needed slumber. Trowa had never complained about their lives. He had always seemed content with the life that they had led. Quatre may not have been able to spend as much time with his lover as he would have liked, but he spent all his free time with him.
So, why had Trowa left? Where was he now, while Quatre lay in bed alone at night?
The blonde had searched for the answers. Both in all of his memories of their time together and hacking. It was true that Heero had been the best when it came to finding data over the internet, but Quatre wasn't bad himself. He had taken a month off when Trowa had first gone missing and done nothing more than sit in front of his computer and search for an hint of where Trowa might be. Nothing had been found. Not a single thing. Even a chat with Catherine had come up with nothing. It was almsot as if the tall boy had just stepped off the planet. His cloths were still in closet they had been in three years ago, untouched and none missing.
Quatre still remembered the day he had given up his search. It had been a little more than a year after the disappearance. He had come home one afternoon, ready to check to see if Trowa had left a message or might have let a clue slip as to where he was. He had walked into his house, now empty without Trowa's silent company. He had wondered into his bedroom and realize just how alone he was. His bed was huge, much too large for his slight frame alone. There was no noise, the help having been given the day off. The room seemed to be unused, no mess that usually accumulated when in use. His things were all put away, dirty laundry had already been taken away. There was even a faint musty smell. His room hadn't been opened to fresh air in a year at least. It was then, standing in the middle of that empty room that he had faced the truth. Trowa wasn't coming back. That night he had cried himself to sleep, letting the despair wash over him just that once.
Since then he hadn't let himself let go of his self-control.
With a growl, he sat up. This was getting him nowhere and quickly. If he let himself think about this much longer he'd destroy the barriers he had spent the last three years erecting.
He pulled a robe over his shoulders and stalked toward his study. If he was going to be awake, he may as well be productive.
But that proved to be impossible as well. It seemed every time he tried to concentrate his mind would just wander back to his past. And it was slowly driving him mad. With a frustrated sigh, the blonde Winner shoved all of his paper work off his desk. Which was an action that would shock most everyone who knew him. Quatre had never been prone to sudden burst of violence, no matter how small. Only under the Zero system had he ever lost his control to this extent.
True, he had been a soldier, but he had been kind a gentle. Now he looked furious. His hair was flying about his face, eyes alight with an inner fire as they glared at the work he had just threw half across the room.
He strode back towards his room, lips set into a thin line.
Quatre Winner was definitely a different man.
~*~*~
Shade: Erm... How long has it been since I posted the first chapter?
I dunno. A while. Working hard on Inspiration. Forgot about this. Ya know,
this was s'posed to be a fluff. Doesn't look like it turned out exactly
as planned. Dunno if I like this Quatre or not And still no title. Help
me out here, folks. Need help. And sorry it's so short!