Legal junk: I don't pretend to own Gundam wing... yet. So only a baka yarou
would sue me.
I'm glad you people like my stuff. Please review. I'm really frustrated here! Does no one like me?
A Call To Arms cont
"Gods Heero where are you?" Duo asked the empty air of Heero's room. He gazed carefully around. It smelled like Heero. Everything in the room reminded him of Heero. The green tank top still folded lying on the dresser. The roses resting on the windowsill... Heero had promised to return before they wilted. They were dying. Slowly, but surely.
'You promised you would be back before they died Heero. Where are you now?' He wandered aimlessly around the room searching for a small piece of himself. The piece that had always belonged to Heero. The piece that was missing now that he was gone. Finally leaving the room he entered the living room searching for something that wouldn't remind him of his partner. The T.V they sat and watched together on Saturday nights. The couch where they sat and discussed their days, their lives, their emotional turmoil. The C.D rack Heero had bought him last Christmas where he organized his C.D's by favorites, title, or song artist depending on his mood. The wolf portrait he had painted for Heero last Easter. With tear filled eyes, he left the living room moving on to the kitchen.
He circled the kitchen looking at the chairs where he and Heero sat at the table and talked about taxes, financial situations, and matters of the mind. It was strictly reserved for that. The couch was for matters of the heart, the table for matters of the mind, and the bedroom for matters of need. They had decided that when they moved in together. They would not mix those things up. Duo glanced at the calendar with the wolves on it that hung above Heero's stove. Had it only been two days? It felt like an eternity!
He sighed and walked back into the bedroom. 'Pathetic!' he thought. 'Pathetic how I have come to rely on him.' He lay down and tried to sleep. It was the fastest way to pass time after all. However, the little sleep he did manage was anything but restful.
Walking down a seemingly endless road he gripped the point thirty five pistol in his hand a little tighter, for on the streets your weapon was at times your only means of survival. He looked around at the familiar rundown and crumbling buildings that surrounded all his childhood memories. He heard the all too familiar sounds of a gunfight going down not far off.
Turning right to avoid getting caught in the middle he saw a figure in the gutter not far off. The shape looked familiar so he ventured closer. Striding cautiously forwards he bent down and gazed into a battle, scarred face. A face he had come to count on seeing every morning. The face of a soldier. "Heero!" he whispered to the lifeless corpse.
Waking up abruptly he gasped for breath. "Heero!" he repeated softly and urgently. He blinked the sweat out of his eyes and gazed out the window. "Heero... come home soon. Please I need you!"
I'm glad you people like my stuff. Please review. I'm really frustrated here! Does no one like me?
A Call To Arms cont
"Gods Heero where are you?" Duo asked the empty air of Heero's room. He gazed carefully around. It smelled like Heero. Everything in the room reminded him of Heero. The green tank top still folded lying on the dresser. The roses resting on the windowsill... Heero had promised to return before they wilted. They were dying. Slowly, but surely.
'You promised you would be back before they died Heero. Where are you now?' He wandered aimlessly around the room searching for a small piece of himself. The piece that had always belonged to Heero. The piece that was missing now that he was gone. Finally leaving the room he entered the living room searching for something that wouldn't remind him of his partner. The T.V they sat and watched together on Saturday nights. The couch where they sat and discussed their days, their lives, their emotional turmoil. The C.D rack Heero had bought him last Christmas where he organized his C.D's by favorites, title, or song artist depending on his mood. The wolf portrait he had painted for Heero last Easter. With tear filled eyes, he left the living room moving on to the kitchen.
He circled the kitchen looking at the chairs where he and Heero sat at the table and talked about taxes, financial situations, and matters of the mind. It was strictly reserved for that. The couch was for matters of the heart, the table for matters of the mind, and the bedroom for matters of need. They had decided that when they moved in together. They would not mix those things up. Duo glanced at the calendar with the wolves on it that hung above Heero's stove. Had it only been two days? It felt like an eternity!
He sighed and walked back into the bedroom. 'Pathetic!' he thought. 'Pathetic how I have come to rely on him.' He lay down and tried to sleep. It was the fastest way to pass time after all. However, the little sleep he did manage was anything but restful.
Walking down a seemingly endless road he gripped the point thirty five pistol in his hand a little tighter, for on the streets your weapon was at times your only means of survival. He looked around at the familiar rundown and crumbling buildings that surrounded all his childhood memories. He heard the all too familiar sounds of a gunfight going down not far off.
Turning right to avoid getting caught in the middle he saw a figure in the gutter not far off. The shape looked familiar so he ventured closer. Striding cautiously forwards he bent down and gazed into a battle, scarred face. A face he had come to count on seeing every morning. The face of a soldier. "Heero!" he whispered to the lifeless corpse.
Waking up abruptly he gasped for breath. "Heero!" he repeated softly and urgently. He blinked the sweat out of his eyes and gazed out the window. "Heero... come home soon. Please I need you!"