Blah blah blah, slash/shounen-ai/gay warning, get over it, I know you can. Set in my Gundam-verse, which you will find out by reading my other stories. A.k.a. standard pairings, folks. This is mostly about 3x4. Saddened a bit.

__________________________________________________________________

He found that he looked at them a lot now. But maybe it's because it's all he really felt anymore, the old pain that had left the scars on his palms. It had been nearly a year, but every single sensation was raw and fresh in his mind.

I hate you!

It had felt so deep, at the time. But now it appeared almost animal.

Just leave me alone!

Poor Quatre had trembled so much, even though he was the one who had said it.

I can't do this anymore! Stop following me like a fucking puppy dog! You don't even care about me!

Trowa's stomach had churned at every single word that came from him petite lover's angry throat.

I'm not your dog, Quatre.

It had been all that he could reply. And most likely, all that the small blonde would believe. Even if he had told him how much he loved him, Quatre wouldn't have thought it true.
His pale face had contorted in even more anger at Trowa's reply. The small glass he was holding had flown through the air, crashing at the brunette's feet, and then he was gone with a slam of the door. Trowa had fallen to his knees, not even noticing the shards under his fists as they pounded the floor.

They had, of course, reconciled. And now the bandages were gone from Trowa's hands, the cuts no longer red and scowling, but simply soft, white scars. And for a while, it seemed like that would be fine. But it wasn't.
It seemed like Quatre saved a special reticence just for him. To anyone else he was the smiling, talkative boy he had always been. But to Trowa? Silence. Only silence. Even when Trowa would speak to him, it was just a smile or a nod. Occasionally he was so blessed as to receive a But it might as well have been a Leave me alone, for that was what it actually meant. Sometimes, Quatre simply ignored him. The blue eyes never shined on him anymore. The smiles were never real....always empty. He said he cared. But Trowa didn't know if he ever meant it anymore.
But Trowa still cared. To him, Quatre was everything. Every move he made was graceful, every thought he let out brilliant, and every joke he made hysterical. With his entire heart, the brunette loved him. Everything about him...except...
Those s that were really Leave me alones.
Everytime he heard them, he could feel it.
The scars, never fully closed in his heart or mind, were beginning to bleed again.