Disclaimer: HA! I wish I owned this series, but alas I don't, so don't me,
I am poor anyway, you won't get much money.
Notes: I LOVE THIS. I can't stop writing it really. I have through chapter 5 written in my notebook, if only I had time to type it all! Well, hopefully I can post more of this asap, as it has been revised a bit, and it is in for a second revision with my friend right now. Enjoy my friends, and review if you have any suggestions. Thanks!
Chapter 1: Rain Soaked Ballerina
The rain had started driving down since the moment that the last tent stake was placed. It was a little past eleven, and the rain heavy clouds made the night darker. Despite the terrible weather, the circus was planning to have a remarkable turnout the next night. Trowa and Catherine tended to the horses in the deluge before seeking shelter in the main tent.
"Tomorrow night is going to be wonderful." Catherine smiled while shaking the rain from her hair. Trowa smiled back and nodded, then he walked out toward the center ring amid the bustling workers who were getting the tent ready for the next night. Catherine ran after him.
"You seem so cheery lately," she grinned, "is it because of that visitor I keep seeing you sneak around some nights?" Trowa stopped dead and stared at her.
"How did you know about that?"
"I notice more than you think I do," Catherine giggled, then began to walk backwards in front of him, "so, who is she?"
"I don't really want to talk about this right now." Trowa replied awkwardly as they stopped near the center ring. Catherine hugged him gently.
"Okay," she smiled into his shoulder, "I give up for now." Trowa smiled and hugged her back, then kissed the top of her head. For the rest of the night, it weighed on him that she knew about his affair, but dismissed his worries because she still did not know who the girl was.
Trowa left to his trailer after the rest of the work was done. Better than half of his home was the costume storage, but he liked the divided nook in the back, which he called home. There was a nice bed below a small window, a dresser bookcase, which were cleverly engineered to stay in their place while moving, and a small bathroom with a got water hook-up that led to his shower. He sat on the bed and pulled a clipboard and pen from underneath it. The letter on the clipboard was unfinished, and the name for whom it was for was not yet written.
Cathy has found out about us. There is no danger to us yet, as
she does not know who you are. I worry about this, you know,
that the wrong people are going to see us and that this shall
end. I want to see you everyday, make you mine, and this
distance just drives me to want you more. I look forward to
seeing you tomorrow night, waiting for me to be done with the
show. I know this reads like a journal, but it is the only way I
know how to gain some comfort. You know that I think of you all
of the time, I can't really help myself. It is very late now;
perhaps I'd better turn in, as it is an early day tomorrow.
Trowa finished his last few lines, then changed out of his day clothes and ducked under his blankets to sleep. He stared out of the window at the tempest that was still raging. Somehow, it calmed his worried nerves, and he found himself sleeping soundly, and dreaming of that girl.
The next morning was gray, but every once and awhile, the sun peeked through the cloudy mist, and by nine it had burned off the low-lying fog. Trowa had just left his trailer when Catherine came hurrying over.
"Trowa!" she said in an excited whisper, "Come here, quickly!" she grabbed his hand and tugged him across the busy road that the circus had set up near. Trowa stopped her as they reached the other side.
"Catherine," he said with weariness, "what are you doing?"
"There is someone sleeping on that bus stop bench!" she pointed to it, and sure enough, there was a person lying next to some old suitcases and a metal hoop, "I don't know if they are okay."
"Cathy," he sighed, "they could just be waiting for their bus."
"But they are soaked," she protested, "and so are all of their belongings. It looks like that have been out there all night."
"Would you feel better if we went to check on them?" he asked, to which she nodded. They walked over to the figure on the bench, which was curled up with its legs tucked into its chest.
"I think it is a woman." Catherine whispered. After looking over the figure for a moment, Trowa silently agreed, then kneeled on the drying pavement and shook the woman's shoulder. She awoke with a little startled and as she rose slightly from the bench, she looked at him with midnight- blue eyes, and he caught sight of some slightly curly black locks underneath her sweatshirt hood.
Notes: I LOVE THIS. I can't stop writing it really. I have through chapter 5 written in my notebook, if only I had time to type it all! Well, hopefully I can post more of this asap, as it has been revised a bit, and it is in for a second revision with my friend right now. Enjoy my friends, and review if you have any suggestions. Thanks!
Chapter 1: Rain Soaked Ballerina
The rain had started driving down since the moment that the last tent stake was placed. It was a little past eleven, and the rain heavy clouds made the night darker. Despite the terrible weather, the circus was planning to have a remarkable turnout the next night. Trowa and Catherine tended to the horses in the deluge before seeking shelter in the main tent.
"Tomorrow night is going to be wonderful." Catherine smiled while shaking the rain from her hair. Trowa smiled back and nodded, then he walked out toward the center ring amid the bustling workers who were getting the tent ready for the next night. Catherine ran after him.
"You seem so cheery lately," she grinned, "is it because of that visitor I keep seeing you sneak around some nights?" Trowa stopped dead and stared at her.
"How did you know about that?"
"I notice more than you think I do," Catherine giggled, then began to walk backwards in front of him, "so, who is she?"
"I don't really want to talk about this right now." Trowa replied awkwardly as they stopped near the center ring. Catherine hugged him gently.
"Okay," she smiled into his shoulder, "I give up for now." Trowa smiled and hugged her back, then kissed the top of her head. For the rest of the night, it weighed on him that she knew about his affair, but dismissed his worries because she still did not know who the girl was.
Trowa left to his trailer after the rest of the work was done. Better than half of his home was the costume storage, but he liked the divided nook in the back, which he called home. There was a nice bed below a small window, a dresser bookcase, which were cleverly engineered to stay in their place while moving, and a small bathroom with a got water hook-up that led to his shower. He sat on the bed and pulled a clipboard and pen from underneath it. The letter on the clipboard was unfinished, and the name for whom it was for was not yet written.
Cathy has found out about us. There is no danger to us yet, as
she does not know who you are. I worry about this, you know,
that the wrong people are going to see us and that this shall
end. I want to see you everyday, make you mine, and this
distance just drives me to want you more. I look forward to
seeing you tomorrow night, waiting for me to be done with the
show. I know this reads like a journal, but it is the only way I
know how to gain some comfort. You know that I think of you all
of the time, I can't really help myself. It is very late now;
perhaps I'd better turn in, as it is an early day tomorrow.
Trowa finished his last few lines, then changed out of his day clothes and ducked under his blankets to sleep. He stared out of the window at the tempest that was still raging. Somehow, it calmed his worried nerves, and he found himself sleeping soundly, and dreaming of that girl.
The next morning was gray, but every once and awhile, the sun peeked through the cloudy mist, and by nine it had burned off the low-lying fog. Trowa had just left his trailer when Catherine came hurrying over.
"Trowa!" she said in an excited whisper, "Come here, quickly!" she grabbed his hand and tugged him across the busy road that the circus had set up near. Trowa stopped her as they reached the other side.
"Catherine," he said with weariness, "what are you doing?"
"There is someone sleeping on that bus stop bench!" she pointed to it, and sure enough, there was a person lying next to some old suitcases and a metal hoop, "I don't know if they are okay."
"Cathy," he sighed, "they could just be waiting for their bus."
"But they are soaked," she protested, "and so are all of their belongings. It looks like that have been out there all night."
"Would you feel better if we went to check on them?" he asked, to which she nodded. They walked over to the figure on the bench, which was curled up with its legs tucked into its chest.
"I think it is a woman." Catherine whispered. After looking over the figure for a moment, Trowa silently agreed, then kneeled on the drying pavement and shook the woman's shoulder. She awoke with a little startled and as she rose slightly from the bench, she looked at him with midnight- blue eyes, and he caught sight of some slightly curly black locks underneath her sweatshirt hood.