Kiss The Sky [Part Seven]
Quatre was nowhere to be seen that day and despite his absence or better yet, because he was absent, Trowa was able to complete the materials he needed for his upcoming presentation. All that was needed was a little practice and a little sprinkle of charisma to win the crowd over. Given those two elements, he was sure to get the grant we needed for our continuing research. Now if only Trowa had that winning personality...
In a way Trowa felt relieved that the preparations were over but he was miserable because he knew that Quatre would no longer be a part of his so-called team. Very soon, their non-existent relationship was going to be over.
He was used to being alone, mind you. It was just that he had learned to be around other people that the thought of isolation sounded less appealing than it used to. Believe me. I didn't want it for him either. After all, I planned this to be a long term engagement. Trowa needed someone not for a few minutes or for a couple of weeks. He needed someone other than me to keep him sane enough to discover the rest of his life. It was a bad idea to take Quatre away, especially when he'd fallen deeply in love.
Everything else seemed to slow down that day. Nobody came into Trowa's door and it was unusually silent. Even the monkeys didn't protest when their cages were being cleaned out. It was as if Quatre had become part of our little routine, one that wasn't easy to modify.
We went home that day still bored out of our minds. To our surprise and our delight, Quatre was by our front door, ready to greet us as we came in. From the looks of it, he had just gotten out of work. His tie was undone and he was holding his jacket.
"Hi," he said.
Trowa nodded in greeting and opened the door before letting us all in.
"You should be home resting," Trowa started. It was a simple enough statement. I didn't expect him to sound any more concerned than he was willing to let out.
"I missed today's lab meeting," Quatre said, ignoring the statement and coming in to sit on the couch.
"It's of no consequence," Trowa answered before going straight for the kitchen. "Do you prefer fish or meatloaf?"
Quatre blinked, probably not expecting Trowa to cook him anything. I was surprised too. I didn't know Trowa knew how to cook anything edible. How come he never cooked me anything?
"You don't have to make me anything," Quatre answered, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable at being served.
"Don't worry. It's pre-cooked. Cathy came by earlier today. She said something about needing to eat real food as opposed to junk."
"That was nice of her."
Yes, indeed. I thank the heavens for his sister. If it weren't for Catherine, Trowa and I would be rotten corpses by now.
"So what will it be? Fish or meatloaf?"
"Fish."
Trowa placed the containers into the oven and took out bottles of water before returning to where Quatre was. He handed him one and sat across from him.
"It's the only type of drink I keep around here," he said.
Quatre nodded and they both sat in silence. I didn't know what was going on but the air seemed a little too stale. Perhaps it was just boredom on my part or maybe it was Trowa taking notice of Quatre's sullen look. The look didn't quite fit the picture.
"It's malnutrition."
"Excuse me?" Quatre asked a little puzzled. I was surprised as well. That was the last thing I expected out of Trowa's mouth.
"It's malnutrition," Trowa said again before sitting back on the couch and eyeing his guest. "It's what Catherine proposed and I agree. You drink nothing but coffee and I've never seen you sit for a proper meal before."
Quatre was quiet with his head down, just like the times when Trowa would give those long lectures on being mature and the moral value of cleaning up monkey dung. This time around, he seemed quiet for a different reason.
"She suggested proper meals," Trowa continued. "I honestly would have preferred intravenous feeding."
Quatre looked up at him surprised. Trowa had a smirk on his face and his arms were crossed. So, he was trying to brighten the mood. Good for him. It was time I spent less time with grumps.
"You really do look like a twelve year old sometimes Quatre Winner," he said.
"And you are a pompous, arrogant professor Dr. Barton," Quatre countered. "But thanks for bringing me home last night."
"No problem," Trowa answered before the oven made that resounding ping, signaling that dinner was ready.
By then, the tension in the room was gone and Trowa took the food out of the oven before inviting Quatre to join him at the table. It was nice to see them amiably together, especially since they were not screaming at each other or involving themselves in mindless French kissing. That's when I saw that they really could work together. They complemented each other in a way I could never have guessed possible. Trowa's anti-social tendencies and Quatre's unpredictable behavior made them a strange but harmonized pair. They regulated each other's tendencies.
When dinner was over, they went back to our tiny living room and Trowa proceeded to stuff several stacks of papers into his bag. Meanwhile, Quatre was fidgeting, looking almost unsure of what he wanted to say. I hoped that it was nothing bad, at least for Trowa's sake.
"Trowa," he said before Trowa looked up at him. "I won't be coming in tomorrow either."
Trowa stopped and then stared. He didn't seem fazed and didn't ask for the reason. He merely shrugged. He didn't fool me. I was pretty sure that he didn't like it one bit.
"But," Quatre said as if to save the pleasant evening we were having, "I could come by tomorrow and help you with the presentation. You know, give you a few pointers on how to handle the rich, snobbish business people."
"That would be nice," Trowa answered, his mood brightening a bit. "After all, you're a rich, snobbish business person yourself."
Quatre smiled and stood up from his seat, sitting down next to Trowa. Without saying anything, he placed his head down on Trowa's shoulder with a sigh.
"I'm tired Trowa," he said. He sounded almost too sure that Trowa would take over.
Much to my surprise, Trowa did. He pulled him up from the couch and lead him into his room. He placed him under the covers and made sure that he was asleep before coming out of the room and closing the door. I was looking at him and it was either he didn't notice me or didn't care to answer my inquiries. He went back to the couch and began arranging his papers again. That was the last thing I remembered before I went to bed and succumbed to sleep as well.
When I woke up in the morning, Quatre was already gone and Trowa was slowly getting up from his position on the couch. I didn't bother calling him as I walked toward the door to retrieve the piece of paper stuck to it.
"Trowa," it said. "I'll be back tonight at around nine or ten. Since you have all the data ready, maybe we could arrange the figures for the presentation tonight. Quatre. P.S. Thanks for the cozy bed. : )"
===
The following day in school was close to disaster. Somehow, Trowa misinterpreted Quatre's departure from his 'team' as a result of the department's hasty decision-making. True, he wasn't screaming or being louder than he normally was but it was a riot nonetheless. He looked calm enough but what did cause the commotion was the fear that Dr. Barton was unhappy. It was enough to stir up a sense of fear from those that wanted to keep him at the university. His mere presence evoked fear and his burning look demanded an explanation.
As it turned out, Quatre did not leave as a result of departmental decision after all. Instead, he had chosen to do so, filing a leave of absence from the university. It seemed odd to me since Trowa and I were both under the impression that Quatre had the passion for school, certainly treasuring it more than his busy hours at the office.
Trowa was a little more than agitated half of the day, wondering just why Quatre decided to leave. The factors that contributed to his frustration were somewhat ambiguous but the hints were there. Perhaps it was the way he had treated his assistant or perhaps Quatre had lost interest in the subject matter Trowa was most passionate about. It bothered him more than he would care to admit and the result was an overwhelming desire to ask him the reason for such a sudden change in plans.
At around ten o'clock, back in our apartment, there was a knock on the door signaling the arrival of our visitor. Quatre arrived just as stated earlier and Trowa was more than ready to greet him when he came in. Before the second knock even occurred, the door had been swung open, much to Quatre's surprise. He was ushered toward the living room with Trowa looking compelled to ask him questions.
By then, Quatre had already read his mind. He had the knowing look on his eyes that signaled that Trowa didn't need to say a word. He took out his jacket and undid his tie before sitting down and beginning the explanation he knew Trowa wanted.
"I had to choose," he started. "Work or school. People have been noticing that I was preoccupied with something else. Stock holders could really get a little too jumpy when they see the smallest bit of change in the company - or as my advisors explained - changes in me. I can't let down the people who depend on me Trowa. It wouldn't be fair to them."
Trowa sat down and nodded. He was actually agreeing with it. I didn't believe he would go that easy and I couldn't believe he bought the excuse. I wasn't agreeing with it one bit. I needed more than that. A company just couldn't count on one person to keep it on top. The pressure was just a little too high for someone like Quatre. He needed to live the way he wanted to and not the way others said he should. I guess there were some consequences to being the richest.
"Let's have dinner then," Trowa said and proceeded to put the food in the oven.
Quatre looked crestfallen and I almost hit Trowa on the head. He could have at least been a little more sensitive.
Dinner was quiet as was I. Thank goodness it was quick as well. I just couldn't stand the silence. It seemed that there had been too much of it recently. Even I couldn't brighten their moods. I just looked like an idiot trying to talk to unresponsive people. When they were done, I went ahead and made myself comfortable in the living room. There was no need for me to hang around the despondent.
They spent the rest of the night practicing with Quatre giving necessary pointers. It was his expertise, after all. He knew how to attract people to something and he knew exactly what people wanted to see. Every aspect was taken into detail whether Trowa thought it necessary or not. For the first time since they met, Quatre was the teacher and Trowa was his faithful student. It may have gotten a little out of hand at some point but I judged it to be smoother than I had initially expected.
"The cortical area MT," Trowa said, practicing his presentation, complete with the slides and figures, "has been found to be an area where motion..."
"What's MT?" Quatre suddenly interrupted.
"Mid Temporal."
"Then you should say it or better yet, don't use the word temporal."
"It's a convention used..." Trowa explained before being cut off again by Quatre.
"It's a convention in your area but someone else will dismiss the vague word," Quatre said. "Talk to me like you would a novice. That's the only way you're going to get your message through."
"You know what I mean. I told you this before."
"Ah, but they won't know what you mean. They'll filter unfamiliar words and you'll end up uninteresting. Making them fall asleep won't gain you their confidence. Intimidating them would only distance you further. I'm sure that you wouldn't want to be given an opportunity based only on your sheer brilliance alone. After all, isn't that the reason why the school keeps you? They don't understand a thing you're trying to do nor do they care much about your ideas and yet they keep you for your worth."
Trowa looked at him. I looked at him too but the only difference was that my mouth was hung wide open. It never occurred to me that Quatre was that perceptive of Trowa's situation. I was never that blunt to speak out to Trowa what we both knew was the case. Maybe Quatre really did understand him, enough that his companionship was more than just a continual presence.
"Think about it. I'll come back tomorrow at around the same time," Quatre said after the temporary silence.
"Stay over," Trowa said as he grabbed Quatre's forearm to keep him from leaving.
"Everyone was looking for me last night. I don't want them to worry unnecessarily. Besides, the police did not appreciate 'delinquent teenagers' as they dubbed me this morning," Quatre said and then winked.
"Too many worrisome servants," Trowa muttered before letting go.
Quatre smiled and then gave Trowa a light peck on the cheek before picking up his jacket and leaving. The two of us were left with nothing to do. It was getting dull once again.
"He won't be coming back when it's all done," Trowa suddenly said whether to me or himself, I couldn't really tell. "I never knew it would be this difficult to fall in love with someone."