Love Is Hell

By spheeris1

Pairing: Dorothy/Relena (and vice-versa)

Warnings/notes: See Part One

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[Borderlines]

Sure, I am all 'balls to the wall' for a girl--that was what first drew your gaze my way, made those baby-blues slide over me in a wash of Spring.

But now that I am older, I don't want to fight.

I will…if I have to.

But I do not go out of my way to battle. These hands just like to rest a little now…I like to pick up a book and turn the pages, even if the story is old and dull.

I like to run my fingertips over gloriously green leaves of the apple trees of Summer. I like to caress your skin before you awake and dash off to lead the world once more.

The papers like to follow you around. They have forgotten my name…because I let them. I let them lose my name in the whirlpool of fame, of glory, of the universe changing for the better.

But they say: "Dorothy Catalonia, one-time verbal opponent to Miss Peacecraft, now appears to be just a little more than that…"

They know my 'stats', so to speak.

Blonde. Blue eyes. A little taller, a little more thin than you. A smile like a razor. A grip of iron. A well-known family name.

And the things they do not know, I keep hidden away. No need to grandstand like before. That girl--she is finally at peace, her own kind of peace--and I have stepped in.

I take your hand and let you lead.

I keep quiet and let you speak.

I drift upstairs when the nights grow long and I fall asleep, content.

Our school photographs, ancient in so many ways, held every answer.

I stood next to you, smirk in place.

You stood next to me, determined eyes.

And I should have known. I should have seen it. All that pretentious teenage wisdom and worldly knowledge…and I knew not a thing about my heart.

Or its funny way of getting what it wanted without me realizing it.

Other wars will happen.

People are never satisfied. You understand this now.

And I understand you as well, more so than before. I crossed over to your side one night, stepped over your borderlines and into your mind.

And I knew, no matter what we have said in the past, that I love you.

--

[First and Last]

By the time you and I met, I was already experienced.

All those boys around and every single one loved me. Even some girls felt their heart flutter a bit too quickly in my presence.

I have been touched. I have been kissed.

I have teased and toyed and played around.

The good girl image serves the public, serves my fathers ghost, serves the nations of the known universe and their ideals of peace.

And I am not bad--for what I have done is not rotten or wicked--it is just a way to deal with this life I am living.

So, one young man takes me for a dance and I let his hands wander.

I wanted to feel alive…and what better to get your blood flowing strong again?

So, one young girl passes me a note and wants to meet me in the school restrooms…why should I not go there and let her kiss me?

I am not a whore. I am not a slut.

This is just how people survive another day.

Brief connections to remind us of all the good and pleasurable and wonderful things that living can offer…before you return to the grind, to the fight, to the ever-present clouds of doubt and despair.

I knew what to do and what went where and how to get it and how to make it last--before I met you.

And now there is no after you, even though you are gone and I never find my bed empty. I am not alone right now. I am entangled in some sweaty hold.

But I wish it was you.

I wish you were holding me down and pressing against me.

I wish your tongue was licking and your mouth was sucking and your were lips kissing me.

I wish your voice was whispering into my waiting ears.

I wish you were here…beside me now…and this time, I would not ask for you to leave. I would not watch in strange horror as you walked out this door, dress back on and overcoat snapped shut--without one look back.

And it was my voice that told you to go.

My words. My expression of disdain. My usual reaction to one-night stands.

Once you disappeared in a bullet of bright yellow…

…I cried for the first time in years.

It was the last time, though. I will not live with your memory. I will be just as before. Just as strong. Just as powerful.

But…I wish you were here to see me go on…

--

[It Would Never Work Out Like This]

It was typical for us to talk like this.

Now, with everything so calm and ordinary, we could just…well, talk…

Like girls do. Like young women who have seen enough of the world, of its bad and good side, of its fields and of its stars.

Dorothy chats about political events of the day, sipping her iced coffee.

Relena looks through fashion magazines and laments her not-stylish wardrobe.

They shop. They eat at a trendy restaurant. They walk through a park in the late evening. They can hear the birds sing…Never could hear them before.

'I need a break from this place.' Relena states suddenly. That was her way though--to make random comments out of the blue. Dorothy was used to it.

'Where would you go?' Dorothy asks, not missing a beat. Relena really liked that about the other girl--the way she could so easily roll with the punches. Not everyone could do that so very well.

'Somewhere warm. Warmer than here anyway…a beach perhaps, with a place right beside the ocean…The waves are supposed to be good for sleep.' Relena says, glancing up at the cloudless sky. Dorothy spares a sideways glance and thinks, if only for a moment, that Relena is gorgeous.

'Unless they drown you, of course.' Dorothy says dryly. Relena grins over at Dorothy. She has always loved the other girls humor--so witty, so biting--it sparked her icy blue eyes with a touch of warmth. It was very becoming.

'If I went, would you come along? We could suntan all day and swim at night…' Relena says and just barely touches Dorothy's elbow, to pause their strolling. The other girls skin is soft. Very soft. Like a feather.

Dorothy smiles over at Relena, idly wondering if she could refuse this girl anything. This girl--who Dorothy used to dislike, then admire--but is now, simply, a friend. A good friend. A dear friend even…

'I could never refuse a chance to bathe in the sun, Relena.' Dorothy purrs. And Relena does think it is very much like a purr…like a beautiful cat, claws put away for the day and laying content in your lap.

And for second, neither one of them is talking or moving. Just smiling. Just drinking in the suppressed knowledge that between the two of them…is something too special for words, for actions and declarations…

Then Relena comments are the poor walking quality of her shoes. And Dorothy is taking a quick call on her cell phone.

They walk on through the park, bags in hand…

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THE END