Milliardo had left, and Quatre was alone in the room with Trowa.
Strangely, he was angry.
"What do you think you were doing?" He asked, getting up and pacing. "Milliardo is going to kill himself over this whole ordeal, and you're encouraging him? You don't even know him, or Relena."
"No, but I know the vampire, Heero. If it makes you feel better, I'm not doing this for Milliardo at all. I want Heero dead. So does that man. It will be easier for me to kill him if I have help, and Milliardo's not the type of person to forget about revenge."
"It sounds to me like you're using him."
"Perhaps," Trowa shrugged. "No more than he will use me, I'm sure." He walked to the door, opened it, and went out into the hallway.
Quatre followed him. "Where are you going?" Getting no answer, he tried again. "Trowa, don't go. Please. You can stay here, I wish you would."
Trowa turned around, and Quatre noted that he looked genuinely surprised.
"Aren't you tired?" he continued. "You sleep during the day, don't you? If you're going to work with Milliardo on this, it will be easier if you stay here. Besides, you can't go out during the day again; I won't let you."
The familiar amused look returned to the vampire's face. "If you so desire it, Master Quatre, I will not venture out today. I am anxiously awaiting my accommodations."
Quatre gaped a little. Trowa had actually made fun of him. For some reason he had never thought of a vampire having a sense of humor. Then again, he hadn't ever really thought of vampires.
"Master Quatre?" he replied questioningly. "I don't think so. Follow me."
He took Trowa to his own chamber and quickly shuttered all the windows to prevent any sunlight from entering. "It would probably be better if you slept here," he said. "This way, none of my numerous sisters will be able to disturb you. If I put you in a guest room and any of them knew about it... well, they can be pretty bothersome."
"You don't need to worry about your sisters, you know. I'm not going to harm them."
"Oh." Quatre blushed. "I wasn't even thinking about that. It's just that... any young man that comes in this house is bound to have at least seven of my sisters following him like puppies."
"I see." Trowa looked around the surprisingly sparse room. The only furniture consisted of a table, a bed, and a chair. He sat down in the chair and tried to be comfortable.
"No, no," Quatre said. "You can sleep there," he continued, pointing to the bed. "It's not a problem, really." He sighed, then went on. "I have to go meet my father now. Please don't go away, Trowa. I don't want anything to happen."
He realized how sappy he sounded and felt a little awkward. It was true, though. He hardly knew Trowa at all, but he sensed some kind of link between them. If something happened to him, Quatre would know and it would hurt him, too.
"I won't leave without your knowledge, then," Trowa replied.
"Thanks." Quatre smiled and walked out of the room to go find his father.
He thought about it more as he walked. Why did he feel so attached towards Trowa? Granted, he didn't want the vampire to harm himself by being exposed to the sunlight, but given his uncanny ability to appear and disappear wherever he chose, Trowa could probably leave without causing him or Quatre any harm. What was it, then? He considered the emotions he sensed from Trowa. At first, his empathetic skills could discern nothing, and he had assumed it was because Trowa was non-human. But upon further study, Quatre realized he could tell the changes in his emotions. They were strange, not like human feelings really, but recognizable. So what was it that Quatre had been sensing, that he was unwilling to let Trowa leave? Friendship, perhaps? It was true that he didn't have many true friends. Being an empath, he could always tell when people were trying to use him, which unfortunately happened quite often. Maybe the connection he felt was due to the fact that Trowa wasn't interested in Quatre's wealth, but was obviously interested in something else about him. Feeling a little more focused now, Quatre continued walking and turned his mind to other things.
Trowa was terribly tired, but he couldn't rest. He wasn't used to sleeping on such a soft surface as Quatre's bed, and though all the windows were shuttered, the amount of light that still came in made him nervous. His mind was racing, too. He hadn't expected the human boy to be so kind, and part of him couldn't even grasp the concept behind it. Vampires didn't show compassion or kindness towards one another, and never interacted with humans enough to study their behavior, either. Humans were food. Trowa's mind drifted back to Heero. They had had a relationship of sorts, before Duo came in to the picture, but, even then, it wasn't the same as the way these humans treated the ones they cared about. Quatre cared about everybody, obviously even an evil creature like himself.
Trowa couldn't deny that he really wanted to stay here. Quatre's strange empathetic powers were the cause, of course. Never before had he been without the soul-wrenching pain vampires eternally lived with. That innocent boy had the ability to wipe it all away, though, and did it without even a thought. It was no wonder everybody loved him.
As much as he wanted to, however, Trowa knew he couldn't stay more than today. For one thing, he was extremely hungry. But the more important reason was Heero. As long as he lived, Heero would always feel Trowa's life force, and Trowa his. It was part of being spirit-bound companions like they were. Eventually, Heero would be able to find him, and Trowa definitely didn't want to be found here. Besides, if Milliardo was truly intent on killing Heero, he still could not find the vampire by himself. Trowa had to go back and at least pretend to make amends with his companion, so he could later bring the two together. As for what would happen then, he had no idea.
Quatre walked in several hours later to find Trowa soundly sleeping. He breathed a sigh of relief. Despite the promise the vampire gave him, he'd still been worried Trowa would leave, and even more worried that he wouldn't come back. Not that he would be staying here much longer, Quatre knew. He sat down opposite the bed and just stared a while at the slumbering Trowa. He looked perfectly human; much paler skin than most, but still amazingly handsome. He appeared noble, actually, as though he had aristocratic blood. Quatre was suddenly intrigued. What if Trowa had been a nobleman? There was one way to find out, if he had enough nerve. Trowa was sleeping on his side, with his facing away. Cautiously, Quatre walked around to the other side of the bed and gently pulled at the back of the vampire's black shirt, noting as he did so that he'd never seen Trowa in different clothes than these, though they were perfectly clean. He peered at the space between Trowa's shoulder blades. Yes, the mark was there—a small, intricate tattoo that was the sign of a person belonging to a high-ranking family. Quatre had a similar one himself, though each was different. It had been placed there the day he was born, as was the norm. The mark was mostly for tradition, nowadays. In the past, they were used to identify true nobility from someone who was simply trying to make his own title. There was a large book, he knew, that held the name of every single person who had ever been marked, along with the particular design, but it was closely guarded somewhere Quatre didn't know.
Trowa suddenly turned around and regarded him with his dark green eyes. Quatre had been expecting him to wake up, though, so he wasn't too startled.
"I'm sorry I woke you," he apologized.
Trowa nodded and sat up, but said nothing, so Quatre continued with what was really on his mind.
"Who were you, before you became a vampire?"
"I don't know," Trowa replied. "I don't remember anything about my past."
"But you were an aristocrat."
Trowa looked confused. "How do you know that?"
"You have the mark, of course, just the same as I do. Didn't you know?"
"No."
"Oh. You can't see it on yourself, I suppose. It doesn't matter all that much anyway."
"It's strange that no one ever told me, though." Trowa shrugged. "It isn't of any use anymore, though."
Quatre felt a wave of pity wash over him. Poor Trowa. He always seemed so sad. Quatre wanted to help him, but wasn't even sure how. He realized that he'd been using his empathetic skills on the vampire unconsciously, trying to leech away some of the pain he felt there. He still wanted to do more, though.
His thoughts were disrupted from a knock on the door.
"What is it?" He asked, nervously looking at Trowa.
"Master Peacecraft is here, and wishes to speak with you, Sir."
Milliardo. Quatre wondered what he had discovered, if he indeed had followed Trowa's advice and investigated. Even more, he wondered how he had reacted when he found out the truth.
He was very pale when Quatre and Trowa met him a few minutes later. Something had frightened him badly, Quatre sensed.
"You saw." Trowa said to Milliardo, standing behind Quatre like a bodyguard.
He nodded weakly. "Far more than I wanted to. Thank heavens I went in the daylight." He shuddered. "There are people, all over the city, with scars on their necks, just like the marks Releena had. From those... vampires."
The rest of the conversation went much as Trowa had expected it to. Milliardo, overcome with lust for revenge, was willing to do anything to see his sister's killer die. This, combined with his newfound fear, made him an eager listener. The rest depended on Trowa himself, and finding the right opportunity.
He could feel the sun going down. The approaching night soothed him, like a cool breeze on his skin. He had to leave, soon, before Heero woke and missed him again, for Trowa had his own part to play.
"I have to leave," he finally said.
Quatre smiled, as though he had expected Trowa to leave sooner.
"When are we going to meet again?" Milliardo asked, but it was to Quatre that the question was addressed.
The blonde boy looked suddenly uncomfortable and shrugged as his eyes met Trowa's.
"Um... this really isn't my decision, Milliardo. You know how I feel about the whole situation."
Milliardo now turned to Trowa, and waited for his answer, as did Quatre.
"What need do we have for a meeting?" He questioned coolly. "I'll come to you at the right time."
He walked to the door, then turned around to face the tall man's icy stare.
"You just have to be ready."
Authors note: Sorry if this chapter seemed too boring!! Something inside me just screamed for subplot and dialogue. The next chapter will have lots of action, don't worry. It'll make up for any yawns here .
"What do you think you were doing?" He asked, getting up and pacing. "Milliardo is going to kill himself over this whole ordeal, and you're encouraging him? You don't even know him, or Relena."
"No, but I know the vampire, Heero. If it makes you feel better, I'm not doing this for Milliardo at all. I want Heero dead. So does that man. It will be easier for me to kill him if I have help, and Milliardo's not the type of person to forget about revenge."
"It sounds to me like you're using him."
"Perhaps," Trowa shrugged. "No more than he will use me, I'm sure." He walked to the door, opened it, and went out into the hallway.
Quatre followed him. "Where are you going?" Getting no answer, he tried again. "Trowa, don't go. Please. You can stay here, I wish you would."
Trowa turned around, and Quatre noted that he looked genuinely surprised.
"Aren't you tired?" he continued. "You sleep during the day, don't you? If you're going to work with Milliardo on this, it will be easier if you stay here. Besides, you can't go out during the day again; I won't let you."
The familiar amused look returned to the vampire's face. "If you so desire it, Master Quatre, I will not venture out today. I am anxiously awaiting my accommodations."
Quatre gaped a little. Trowa had actually made fun of him. For some reason he had never thought of a vampire having a sense of humor. Then again, he hadn't ever really thought of vampires.
"Master Quatre?" he replied questioningly. "I don't think so. Follow me."
He took Trowa to his own chamber and quickly shuttered all the windows to prevent any sunlight from entering. "It would probably be better if you slept here," he said. "This way, none of my numerous sisters will be able to disturb you. If I put you in a guest room and any of them knew about it... well, they can be pretty bothersome."
"You don't need to worry about your sisters, you know. I'm not going to harm them."
"Oh." Quatre blushed. "I wasn't even thinking about that. It's just that... any young man that comes in this house is bound to have at least seven of my sisters following him like puppies."
"I see." Trowa looked around the surprisingly sparse room. The only furniture consisted of a table, a bed, and a chair. He sat down in the chair and tried to be comfortable.
"No, no," Quatre said. "You can sleep there," he continued, pointing to the bed. "It's not a problem, really." He sighed, then went on. "I have to go meet my father now. Please don't go away, Trowa. I don't want anything to happen."
He realized how sappy he sounded and felt a little awkward. It was true, though. He hardly knew Trowa at all, but he sensed some kind of link between them. If something happened to him, Quatre would know and it would hurt him, too.
"I won't leave without your knowledge, then," Trowa replied.
"Thanks." Quatre smiled and walked out of the room to go find his father.
He thought about it more as he walked. Why did he feel so attached towards Trowa? Granted, he didn't want the vampire to harm himself by being exposed to the sunlight, but given his uncanny ability to appear and disappear wherever he chose, Trowa could probably leave without causing him or Quatre any harm. What was it, then? He considered the emotions he sensed from Trowa. At first, his empathetic skills could discern nothing, and he had assumed it was because Trowa was non-human. But upon further study, Quatre realized he could tell the changes in his emotions. They were strange, not like human feelings really, but recognizable. So what was it that Quatre had been sensing, that he was unwilling to let Trowa leave? Friendship, perhaps? It was true that he didn't have many true friends. Being an empath, he could always tell when people were trying to use him, which unfortunately happened quite often. Maybe the connection he felt was due to the fact that Trowa wasn't interested in Quatre's wealth, but was obviously interested in something else about him. Feeling a little more focused now, Quatre continued walking and turned his mind to other things.
Trowa was terribly tired, but he couldn't rest. He wasn't used to sleeping on such a soft surface as Quatre's bed, and though all the windows were shuttered, the amount of light that still came in made him nervous. His mind was racing, too. He hadn't expected the human boy to be so kind, and part of him couldn't even grasp the concept behind it. Vampires didn't show compassion or kindness towards one another, and never interacted with humans enough to study their behavior, either. Humans were food. Trowa's mind drifted back to Heero. They had had a relationship of sorts, before Duo came in to the picture, but, even then, it wasn't the same as the way these humans treated the ones they cared about. Quatre cared about everybody, obviously even an evil creature like himself.
Trowa couldn't deny that he really wanted to stay here. Quatre's strange empathetic powers were the cause, of course. Never before had he been without the soul-wrenching pain vampires eternally lived with. That innocent boy had the ability to wipe it all away, though, and did it without even a thought. It was no wonder everybody loved him.
As much as he wanted to, however, Trowa knew he couldn't stay more than today. For one thing, he was extremely hungry. But the more important reason was Heero. As long as he lived, Heero would always feel Trowa's life force, and Trowa his. It was part of being spirit-bound companions like they were. Eventually, Heero would be able to find him, and Trowa definitely didn't want to be found here. Besides, if Milliardo was truly intent on killing Heero, he still could not find the vampire by himself. Trowa had to go back and at least pretend to make amends with his companion, so he could later bring the two together. As for what would happen then, he had no idea.
Quatre walked in several hours later to find Trowa soundly sleeping. He breathed a sigh of relief. Despite the promise the vampire gave him, he'd still been worried Trowa would leave, and even more worried that he wouldn't come back. Not that he would be staying here much longer, Quatre knew. He sat down opposite the bed and just stared a while at the slumbering Trowa. He looked perfectly human; much paler skin than most, but still amazingly handsome. He appeared noble, actually, as though he had aristocratic blood. Quatre was suddenly intrigued. What if Trowa had been a nobleman? There was one way to find out, if he had enough nerve. Trowa was sleeping on his side, with his facing away. Cautiously, Quatre walked around to the other side of the bed and gently pulled at the back of the vampire's black shirt, noting as he did so that he'd never seen Trowa in different clothes than these, though they were perfectly clean. He peered at the space between Trowa's shoulder blades. Yes, the mark was there—a small, intricate tattoo that was the sign of a person belonging to a high-ranking family. Quatre had a similar one himself, though each was different. It had been placed there the day he was born, as was the norm. The mark was mostly for tradition, nowadays. In the past, they were used to identify true nobility from someone who was simply trying to make his own title. There was a large book, he knew, that held the name of every single person who had ever been marked, along with the particular design, but it was closely guarded somewhere Quatre didn't know.
Trowa suddenly turned around and regarded him with his dark green eyes. Quatre had been expecting him to wake up, though, so he wasn't too startled.
"I'm sorry I woke you," he apologized.
Trowa nodded and sat up, but said nothing, so Quatre continued with what was really on his mind.
"Who were you, before you became a vampire?"
"I don't know," Trowa replied. "I don't remember anything about my past."
"But you were an aristocrat."
Trowa looked confused. "How do you know that?"
"You have the mark, of course, just the same as I do. Didn't you know?"
"No."
"Oh. You can't see it on yourself, I suppose. It doesn't matter all that much anyway."
"It's strange that no one ever told me, though." Trowa shrugged. "It isn't of any use anymore, though."
Quatre felt a wave of pity wash over him. Poor Trowa. He always seemed so sad. Quatre wanted to help him, but wasn't even sure how. He realized that he'd been using his empathetic skills on the vampire unconsciously, trying to leech away some of the pain he felt there. He still wanted to do more, though.
His thoughts were disrupted from a knock on the door.
"What is it?" He asked, nervously looking at Trowa.
"Master Peacecraft is here, and wishes to speak with you, Sir."
Milliardo. Quatre wondered what he had discovered, if he indeed had followed Trowa's advice and investigated. Even more, he wondered how he had reacted when he found out the truth.
He was very pale when Quatre and Trowa met him a few minutes later. Something had frightened him badly, Quatre sensed.
"You saw." Trowa said to Milliardo, standing behind Quatre like a bodyguard.
He nodded weakly. "Far more than I wanted to. Thank heavens I went in the daylight." He shuddered. "There are people, all over the city, with scars on their necks, just like the marks Releena had. From those... vampires."
The rest of the conversation went much as Trowa had expected it to. Milliardo, overcome with lust for revenge, was willing to do anything to see his sister's killer die. This, combined with his newfound fear, made him an eager listener. The rest depended on Trowa himself, and finding the right opportunity.
He could feel the sun going down. The approaching night soothed him, like a cool breeze on his skin. He had to leave, soon, before Heero woke and missed him again, for Trowa had his own part to play.
"I have to leave," he finally said.
Quatre smiled, as though he had expected Trowa to leave sooner.
"When are we going to meet again?" Milliardo asked, but it was to Quatre that the question was addressed.
The blonde boy looked suddenly uncomfortable and shrugged as his eyes met Trowa's.
"Um... this really isn't my decision, Milliardo. You know how I feel about the whole situation."
Milliardo now turned to Trowa, and waited for his answer, as did Quatre.
"What need do we have for a meeting?" He questioned coolly. "I'll come to you at the right time."
He walked to the door, then turned around to face the tall man's icy stare.
"You just have to be ready."
Authors note: Sorry if this chapter seemed too boring!! Something inside me just screamed for subplot and dialogue. The next chapter will have lots of action, don't worry. It'll make up for any yawns here .