Magic
Disclaimer: Do I own Gundam Wing? Unfournately, no, Heero, Trowa, Duo, Wufei, and Quatre aren't mine. *pouts and casts a mental glare at the bitch known as life*
You once told me you believed in magic, I rolled my eyes and ignored your incesent rambleing, not listening to what you said but secretly watching you from the corner of my eye, your animated reactions, your cheeky smile, and how your braid seemed to be a living creature. It took all my willpower to restrain myself from getting up and kissing you, undoing your braid and plunging my fingers into the sea of silk, but years of training helped me overcome the temptation.
When there was a lull in your chatter you cocked your head and gazed at me with your tantelizing violet eyes, and I could tell you had asked me a question but I hadn't heard, so you repeated yourself, "Do you think you could possibly love someone, Heero?" Your voice was serious and I could tell you wanted to know. I think that for a moment you saw hope flicker into my normally void eyes, but I abandoned any ideas that you might hold some affection towards me other than comraderieship. I didn't resond, couldn't respond. I knew that if any words came out they would tell you every emotion I had kept carefully hidden from you, from everyone.
When I didn't respond you walked out of the room, leaving me to once again rerun the scenario with all the what if's. I was the perfect soldier damnit! I wasn't suppose to have the urge to play tounge tag with another pilot. It was no longer a little girl and her dog that inhabited my dreams, but you. I longed to taste your soft lips, I wanted to hear you say you loved me, I wanted you to know that I did have emotions.
And now you're curled up against me with your head gently resting on my chest, your hair cascading down your shoulders, over the covers, with a few strands tickeling my lips, but that doesn't matter. You're beautiful when you sleep, did you know that? You look like an angel, and I'm wondering how anyone that looks so heavenly can call themselves the God of Death. You explained to me that you call yourself that because you're dead inside, but I'm wondering how you can be dead inside and yet you declared your love for me with such sincerity that it would be impossible for you to lie.
Your murmuring in your sleep, incoherent words that have more meaning than launage could possibly give them, they mean that you're really here, my arms securely around you, refusing to let you go. There's a pout on your lips, there should be a smile. I've seen you smile, not that smile you wear when you're bouncing around like a rubber ball, not that smile, your real smile, the one you wear when you're truely content and happy. Tonight is the first time I've seen it, you graced me with it right after I told you I love you.
You gently whisper my name in your sleep and I think I'm starting to understand why you believe in magic. The way you screamed my name in ecstacy, passion, and love all at the same time, and the way that scream will echo through my mind every moment of every day until I die is magic. Not the kind of magic authors write about, but the kind that you capture and hold onto, the kind that will haunt your dreams and work it's way into your soul until it becomes part of your being, part of your existence.
You stir and look up at me with those intense purple eyes that seduced me as efficently as you complete a mission. "Hey you," you press a kiss to my lips and resume your positon, putting you ear to my heart and smiling. Maybe magic is real, maybe it isn't, right now, I couldn't care less.
~Owari~
Disclaimer: Do I own Gundam Wing? Unfournately, no, Heero, Trowa, Duo, Wufei, and Quatre aren't mine. *pouts and casts a mental glare at the bitch known as life*
You once told me you believed in magic, I rolled my eyes and ignored your incesent rambleing, not listening to what you said but secretly watching you from the corner of my eye, your animated reactions, your cheeky smile, and how your braid seemed to be a living creature. It took all my willpower to restrain myself from getting up and kissing you, undoing your braid and plunging my fingers into the sea of silk, but years of training helped me overcome the temptation.
When there was a lull in your chatter you cocked your head and gazed at me with your tantelizing violet eyes, and I could tell you had asked me a question but I hadn't heard, so you repeated yourself, "Do you think you could possibly love someone, Heero?" Your voice was serious and I could tell you wanted to know. I think that for a moment you saw hope flicker into my normally void eyes, but I abandoned any ideas that you might hold some affection towards me other than comraderieship. I didn't resond, couldn't respond. I knew that if any words came out they would tell you every emotion I had kept carefully hidden from you, from everyone.
When I didn't respond you walked out of the room, leaving me to once again rerun the scenario with all the what if's. I was the perfect soldier damnit! I wasn't suppose to have the urge to play tounge tag with another pilot. It was no longer a little girl and her dog that inhabited my dreams, but you. I longed to taste your soft lips, I wanted to hear you say you loved me, I wanted you to know that I did have emotions.
And now you're curled up against me with your head gently resting on my chest, your hair cascading down your shoulders, over the covers, with a few strands tickeling my lips, but that doesn't matter. You're beautiful when you sleep, did you know that? You look like an angel, and I'm wondering how anyone that looks so heavenly can call themselves the God of Death. You explained to me that you call yourself that because you're dead inside, but I'm wondering how you can be dead inside and yet you declared your love for me with such sincerity that it would be impossible for you to lie.
Your murmuring in your sleep, incoherent words that have more meaning than launage could possibly give them, they mean that you're really here, my arms securely around you, refusing to let you go. There's a pout on your lips, there should be a smile. I've seen you smile, not that smile you wear when you're bouncing around like a rubber ball, not that smile, your real smile, the one you wear when you're truely content and happy. Tonight is the first time I've seen it, you graced me with it right after I told you I love you.
You gently whisper my name in your sleep and I think I'm starting to understand why you believe in magic. The way you screamed my name in ecstacy, passion, and love all at the same time, and the way that scream will echo through my mind every moment of every day until I die is magic. Not the kind of magic authors write about, but the kind that you capture and hold onto, the kind that will haunt your dreams and work it's way into your soul until it becomes part of your being, part of your existence.
You stir and look up at me with those intense purple eyes that seduced me as efficently as you complete a mission. "Hey you," you press a kiss to my lips and resume your positon, putting you ear to my heart and smiling. Maybe magic is real, maybe it isn't, right now, I couldn't care less.
~Owari~