Title: Dangerous
Author: Dark_One Shadowphyre
Feedback: darkone2813@mindspring.com
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst/Romance
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: 4x1
Summary: POV. Heero knows he's dangerous.
Warnings: Slightly disturbing.
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply. This is a non-profit work of fiction. All Gundam Wing characters belong to a bunch of people, none of whom are me.
Notes: This ficlet pretty much wrote itself.
Dedication: To all my list-pals, even if I don't know you!
Distribution: FanFiction.Net profile; the Shadow Realm, the Clan's site; the SDQB mailing list; the 1x4/4x1 mailing list; the HeeronQuatresML list; the Shadowphyre_stories mailing list. Anywhere else—ask, and ye shall receive.
I am dangerous.
I've always known this, at least as far as I can remember. There may have been a time before living with Odin Lowe that I didn't know how to dismantle, clean, reassemble, and operate any firearm in existence. There is probably a time before being chosen to pilot Wing that I didn't have a mental catalogue of ways to kill a human, ranging from most effective to least messy to most painful.
He is dangerous, too.
I know it's a little hard to believe sometimes. He'll look up at you with those large, sparkling teal eyes. He'll smile at you with such joy for life. He'll cheerfully play with dogs on a beach as if he hasn't a care in the world.
But there are times you can't help but realise that he's dangerous. When he gets a mission and his expression turns introspective and calculating. When he's cleaning his gun, handling the lethal weapon with the ease of a professional. When he's pointing that same gun at the head of an OZ soldier and pulls the trigger without flinching.
He's not heartless, though. He'll do little things for you if he knows you've had a bad day, like leaving a cup of your favourite tea at your elbow. He'll bandage your wounds when you're unable to do it yourself. He apologises to his victims, something I've never done.
You'd almost think he was an innocent.
You wouldn't think that if you'd ever seen him kill. Or if you'd seen him studying tactical maps, plotting out the most effective places to set explosives on an enemy base. Or if you'd seen him sprawled out on your bed, bathed in moonlight, his eyes glittering in the darkness, beckoning you to him.
You'd never think he was innocent if you'd ever felt him in the night, moving against you, over you, in you in a passionate dance.
You'd remember he was dangerous when you saw the feral light in those teal eyes and the predatory smile on his lips as he took you, took you in, took you over.
I am dangerous.
I've always known this.
So why am I the one who is afraid?
- Owari -