The Legacy of the Rose
By: Ammendiana
Chapter Nine
Milan sat quietly on her bunk reading Gone With the Wind, which Aunt Relena had let her borrow reluctantly. Music from some new age band played softly in the room, and a summer rose incense burned slowly, filling the room with the soft fragrance of sunlight heating the scent of the noble flower.
The door creaked open and Mariemaia walked in, humming a song softly to herself. Her once long tresses had been trimmed close to her head, and soft scarlet curls encircled her ears, making her look extremely cute. Her body had become more muscular in the months since they had come to the academy, making her look less willowy and more solid. Milan smiled at her friend warmly and laughed as Mariemaia's face curled into a facial acrobatic feat that looked like a cross between smelling a skunk and hearing someone sing a very high, shrill note.
"Why do you listen to this new age crap?" The red haired woman asked sullenly as she pulled out a desk chair and sat on it backwards so she could fold her arms on the back. Absently she fluffed her hair while Milan dog-eared the page she was reading and set the book down.
"Because I find it relaxing. You want to go listen to people bang on some drums, you can go to Alex's room and listen to music there," Milan replied calmly as she picked up the glass of water that had been dripping condensation on the coaster it rested on. Milan wiped the water away with her shirtsleeve and, looking at the dark spot, grimaced.
Mariemaia rolled her blue eyes and made a rude sound. "No, I can't. Remember?"
Milan let out a snort of laughter, "Oh, yeah, I forgot that they caught you and Alex getting freaky in his dorm room."
Mariemaia looked scandalized as she screeched, "We were not! We were simply making friendly-like." She rose her face towards the ceiling in haughty, offended manner.
"If people made friends like that all the time we would need a lot more space colonies," Milan sipped her water and ignored her friend's upturned finger. Then she asked, feigning indifference, "Have you seen Marcus around lately? He seems to be avoiding me. I wonder if I did something to make him angry..." She mused to herself as she enfolded the cold glass in both hands.
"I doubt you could do anything to make Marcus angry...he adores you, I keep telling you. The only people who don't realize it are you and Marcus." Mariemaia slid Milan a sly, sidelong look as she turned around slightly in her chair and reached into one of her drawers.
"I think you're all delusional. Marcus is a friend, nothing more...For God's sake, he won't even admit I can beat him at chess! How he could he be in love with me?" Milan's tone was incredulous as she hauled her legs over the side of the bed with a grunt.
Mariemaia turned around with a lollipop in her mouth. Smiling around the lollipop, she mumbled, "Oh, please. You're sitting there reading Gone With the Wind and you're talking to me about antagonists not loving protagonists? Marcus is like friggin' Scarlett O'Hara and you're just as bad."
There was a light rapping at the door and Alex walked in, braid swinging. He smiled at Mariemaia and bent over. She removed the lollipop from her mouth to accept his kiss as Milan hauled herself into her wheelchair deftly. She arranged her limp legs while Alex and Mariemaia exchanged kisses.
Alex rose to his full height and said, "I heard the last part of your conversation--"
"Eavesdropping is a bad habit," Milan snapped irritably.
"--And I think that Mariemaia has the right of it. You may think of Marcus as 'just a friend', but he definitely looks at you in a different, less platonic light."
Milan's temper flared, "And since when is everyone a friggin' love expert!"
Alex and Mariemaia shrugged at the same time and Alex replied, "Finding love makes it easier to see it in others." His eyes took on a look of consideration, "And it could help that I've known you both my whole life."
"Yeah, I'll be sure the store that little piece of newfound wisdom away with all of the rest of the stuff I didn't ask for!" Milan snapped at her brother and best friend as she started to wheel herself towards the door.
Mariemaia stuck her tongue out at Milan, "Don't be bitchy."
Turning in her chair, Milan sighed and apologized, "I'm just tired and hungry. Can we go to dinner?"
Mariemaia checked her watch. "It's six-thirty. If we hurry we can beat the rush. Besides," her face lit up, "It's pizza day." The tall auburn haired woman jumped up out of her chair and nimbly put it back in its proper place. Alex wrapped his arms around her waist and jested, "You are a hopeless pizza addict."
Mariemaia gave him a good punch in the gut and they walked out the room, Milan wheeling close behind.
Thoughts that she didn't want rose to the surface, making her attempts to drown them in the sea of mundane thoughts futile.
What if they're right?
The night was cool and the stars shone brightly against the midnight blue silk of the nighttime sky. Milan sat outside the dorm, next to a bench in the middle of the quad that sat near her father's classroom. A can of soda hung loosely in her fingers as she stared into the night, her thoughts wandering aimlessly. A gentle breeze made the leaves of the oak trees whisper in the night; Milan closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.
It's so quiet, she thought to herself, I wish it were this quiet all the time. She ran her free fingers through her long, dark hair. The wind pulled it gently from in between her fingers and played with it, making the dark ribbons wave like pennons. Thoughts sauntered through her idle mind and then a thought of her conversation with Mariemaia and Alex came into focus.
What do they know, anyway? I don't think that Marcus could ever think of me like--like...that. He's like my older brother! My very nice looking, sweet, kind, funny, sexy older brother...Ew! Please tell me I did not just think that thought.
Milan made an irritated noise and took a final gulp from her soda. She shook the can to make sure she had finished it and then, with a flourish, tossed it into a silver trash can. But even that lighthearted distraction couldn't keep her from imagining what it would feel like to have Marcus' arms around her, to feel his warm breath on her neck, to kiss his soft lips...
Shaking her head to clear it and scolding herself for being so foolish, Milan grasped the wheels of her chair and rolled towards the dorm and her bed.
Marcus sat slumped in a squishy armchair, with his legs tossed over one of the arms. His feet twitched involuntarily. He read from a thick volume that didn't really interest him at all, and the chatter from the corner of the living room was steadily beginning to annoy him.
Marcus stared at the source of his annoyance with murder glowing in his blue-green eyes. Rick sat in the love seat, clutching the hand of his beloved Antonia as they mumbled incessantly about nothing at all.
Marcus rolled his eyes at their inane chatter and finally set down his book and stomped out the room irritably.
It wasn't that he didn't like Antonia and Rick, or that he minded talk...it was just that he was irritable for a reason that had at least something to do with weddings.
Stupid Milan...she's invaded my mind or something. Why can't I stop thinking about her! God! His thoughts echoed his irritation at himself and his posture as he charged down the halls did as well. A dark look masked his face and his hands were shoved in his pockets. He looked at the floor tiles as he stalked down the corridor.
He ran straight into Noin, who let out a startled yelp.
Marcus flung himself back, greatly embarrassed. Noin turned and smiled at him.
"What's up, Marcus? I was just looking for Antonia, have you seen her?" Noin's tone was warm and pleasant as she inquired after her daughter.
"She and her extra limb are in the living room. Talking about nothing, as usual," His tone was involuntarily sharp and chafed as he answered her question.
"Why so snappy?" Noin asked mildly.
"Oh, it's nothing."
"Ah...it's a girl, I see," Noin nodded sagely.
Marcus mumbled something rude and to the point but Noin pretended not to hear him. She murmured something to herself instead, and Marcus' temper broke.
"What the Hell are you saying?" He snapped as he massaged his temples.
Noin snapped back, "I was just wondering if denial, anger, and bitchiness were genetic amongst the men who have piloted Gundams, and if they had passed it onto their male offspring!" Then she took a deep breath and whispered to him, "Marcus, listen to me. If you are in love with someone, tell her before it's too late. You might regret keeping your mouth shut.
"Also, don't snap at me; I can still kick your skinny ass, even if I am getting old."
Marcus burst out laughing at her statement, and Noin took him into her arms and hugged him. Kissing his cheek, she disengaged herself and walked down the hall, heels clicking on the tiles.
Marcus continued his walk down the hall, pondering his 'aunt's' words.
"You know, we need to have anime action theaters more often. I'm suffering from anime withdrawals," Octavia stated as she munched on a handful of caramel corn.
Alex and Mariemaia agreed heartily from their corner loveseat, Marcus and Milan grunted, their attention focused on a game of chess. Antonia and Rick cheered and guzzled down their soda, and Treize whooped, tearing his attention away from his sketchbook. Peace asked what anime was, looking up from her book, Anne of Green Gables, with a puzzled expression. As the anime crazy Octavia explained, Mariemaia rose and popped in a tape.
Octavia finished her lecture and asked, "What tape did you pop in, Marie?"
"Here is Greenwood. Do we have any squeezy cheese? And crackers?" Mariemaia requested hopefully.
Rick threw her a box of Triscuits and a bottle of squeezy cheese as Octavia drilled her. "Which one?"
"Ummm..." Mariemaia pondered around a mouthful of cheesy cracker, "The first one."
Octavia jumped and whooped, then flopped down on the couch cuddling her giant can of stale caramel corn that her parents had gotten for Christmas months before.
Milan stated, "Check, Marcus. Haven't we already watched that one?"
Marcus made a frustrated sound and searched the board for an opening.
"No. Or, at least, not recently."
"Oh. Did you manage to get the third tape?" Milan asked as she watched Marcus growl at the board.
"Oooh! No, I didn't. Some jerk hole hasn't returned it yet! I'm never gonna get to see Kazuya get together with anyone! I'm going to die never knowing!" Octavia ranted at Milan as Marcus managed to make a move.
Milan looked at the board and made another move. "Checkmate, Marcus. Well, did you get Card Captor Sakura like I begged you to?"
"I managed to get a few of them but the store didn't have a lot. It's a pretty long series, you know!"
"Damn. Oh, well," Milan looked back at Marcus, who was seething from his loss.
"So, how many is that, Marcus. 115 games now, huh? You really suck at chess," Milan teased.
But Marcus became furious. Angrily he turned over the table, board and all, and screamed at her, "Will you shut up!" Then, his face and neck glowing red, he stalked out the room.
Milan was so shocked she couldn't even move. She and Marcus had been trading insults for years; it was like a game. He had never gotten so angry before. He had always replied with a smooth jab and they had gone on...
Everyone in the room was quiet. Mariemaia stood next to the couch were Alex reclined, looking angry. Then she snapped out of her reverie and ran to her friend, crouching down.
"Are you okay, sweetie?" Mariemaia inquired gently as she squeezed Milan's stiff hand.
Milan came out the shock at her friends touch. "Yeah," she replied shakily. "I think so. I guess I pushed him too far." She gave a wan smile and squeezed Mariemaia's hand in return. "I'll be fine."
Mariemaia nodded and, rising, pushed Milan's chair closer to the television. They all settled down to watch their anime, and the rest of the night passed quietly.
But Milan couldn't pay attention. She was too busy worrying about Marcus.
My God, why did I do that? Marcus agonized as he paced on the deck at the back of Relena and Heero's mansion. His bare feet slapped the wood hard, punctuating his mental criticisms like a nefarious drum beat. His every thought centered around Milan: what would she think of him now, would she be afraid of him, would she ever love him...?
Love me? Where did that thought come from? He didn't realize that he had voiced this musing aloud.
"What thought?" A voice said from behind him. A soft, sensual voice. He jumped in surprise and spun around to confront the intruder.
"Aunt Relena, were you watching me?" Marcus asked as he finally plopped down in a deck chair, exhausted from his anxious pacing.
"I only heard that last thought," Relena pulled a chair in front of him and looked at him expectantly.
"What?" Marcus snapped at her irritably.
"Are you going to tell me what has you so upset or am I going to have to play a guessing game with you?" She asked in the tone of voice that said that only one of the options was viable.
Marcus sighed and wished that there was a bottle of vodka within easy reach. Then, taking a deep breath, he recited the events of that night and his own worries to his understanding aunt. A great weight seemed to lift from his shoulders as he shared his qualms with someone else.
As he finished, Relena was silent, as if she was remembering something.
Then, she spoke. "Oh, Marcus. If you love Milan tell her, for God's sake!" His aunt exclaimed finally. "I don't want you to end up like Wufei, pining after a girl for years and years because you're too scared to tell her you love her. Be brave. The worst thing that could happen is that she doesn't love you. You'll be sad, maybe even heartbroken, but it won't kill you."
Apparently you don't know everything, Aunt Relena. I don't think I could ever be without her...even when she does kick my ass at chess.
He smiled to himself and rose from the chair.
"Thanks, auntie dearest. You've been a great help," Marcus leaned down to kiss her cheek as she scowled at him for calling her 'auntie dearest.'
"And just where do you think you're going?" Relena asked as she looked up at him.
Marcus smiled and said simply, "To find Milan."
As he smoothly walked away into the darkness of the gardens, Relena felt herself smile. The wind teased her golden hair as she looked up at the stars.
"Relena?" Heero's deep voice asked from behind her.
Raising her hand, she beckoned to him. "Heero, come here to me."
Heero smiled to himself and obeyed, taking his wife's upraised hand as he came to stand beside her.
Relena looked away from the sky and looked at her husband. Smiling, she whispered, "I love you."
Heero kneeled down next to her chair and cupped her moon-pale face in his hand, "I know. I love you, too." Then their lips met and parted.
Relena looked once again at the sky, "I know you know. I just had a feeling that I didn't tell you enough."
Milan had tried to watch the movies, but the room had become too stifling, the air to stale, and the noise to loud for her to bear. Assuring her friends of her wellness, she had retreated to one of the many gardens, where she reclined on the grass looking at the rose, ginger, and crimson sunset as she ran her fingers up and down the skin of her thigh. For the umpteenth time she wondered at the fact that she could only feel the motion in the tips of her fingers instead of the pale, warm skin on her leg. So strange. She had had a long time to get used to the lack of feeling, but sometimes it still made her wonder at her survival.
Milan tried in vain to wiggle her toes, but they didn't move. It was a habit carried from childhood; when she had first been paralyzed she had found it very hard to accept the fact that she might not walk again for a very long time. The doctors had never said that she would never walk again; her parents had pleaded with them not to.
Even if she could walk she still would not have been very tall. She was short and, like her mother, had a pixie-like build. Her legs were abnormally thin because of their lack of exercising capabilities, but she thanked whoever it was that took care of everyone that the muscles had not atrophied. Milan still carried the hope that someday she might be able to feel the wind rushing past her face as she ran, or feel the water slide by her as she swam laps in a pool.
Or feel anything below my waist, she smiled ruefully as she laid back on the grass. The soft green down prickled her back in places because her shirt was, to put it bluntly, a midriff barer. Milan had always been proud of her flat, muscular stomach and showed it off whenever she could. She wore a pair of comfortable, hip-hugging shorts and no shoes, her nerveless feet bared to the air they couldn't feel.
Suddenly she heard the sound of footsteps crushing grass. She arched
her back to see who it was.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in," she commented dryly as Marcus
crossed the grass like a cat. Someone is looking pretty damn sexy tonight. Milan thought ruefully as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. Marcus approached and stood behind her, silent. She indulged herself with a long roll of the eyes and patted the grass next to her, "You might as well sit down."
Marcus said nothing as he plopped down beside her. The glorious
sunset had faded to sapphires, aquamarines, and emeralds. Stars had started to appear, one by one, in the night sky; small, brilliant diamonds in the velvet expanse. A small breeze kicked up from the east, blowing strands of Milan's long, dark hair onto Marcus' sweater. They caught on the threads and fuzz, but he made no move to brush them away.
Milan reached over and brushed them off his shoulder. Her hand brushed his shoulder momentarily and she felt a small jolt of electricity go through her fingertips. Static, she dismissed. Marcus jumped at her surprise touch.
But she was acutely aware of his presence after that one small touch. His scent filled her nose, even though the wind should have been blowing it away from her. The heat of his body was as much of a presence in her mind as he himself was; a comforting presence but one that made her feel uncertain, as if something was yet to be resolved.
Marcus cleared his throat, "I'm really sorry that I did what I did back there. I didn't mean to, I was just feeling awfully stressed, and you can be really annoying sometimes. Besides," he snorted, "There is no way I've lost one hundred and fifteen games to you."
Milan looked in his direction and raised an arched eyebrow. "Oh, I suppose not. It must be at least one hundred and twenty five."
Marcus turned his head towards the sky and shouted, "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE WELL ENOUGH ALONE!"
Milan nearly rolled over laughing at him. His head swung around to look at her, his eyes afire with angry amusement. He started to ruthlessly tickle her sides and neck, his hands darting quickly between the two sweet spots. Milan was laughing so hard tears were running down her face and she was clutching her aching sides.
"Stop!" She pleaded breathlessly. He didn't relent, however, and she was forced to retaliate. She formed a hard fist and, twisting impossibly, she landed a jab in his hard stomach.
Marcus gave a grunt and fell to the grass next to her. Milan swerved her body around to look him in the face. Marcus had a hand against his stomach and one lying on the ground. His cerulean eyes stared into her blue eyes intensely. The friendly moment had come and gone, a something unfamiliar had replaced it. Marcus held her gaze with his own as he propped himself up on one elbow. With his free hand he reached up to entwine his articulate fingers in her hair. Milan couldn't move. But she didn't need or want to.
Marcus pulled her face down to his own and his soft lips caressed hers lightly, then more heavily. She responded, her hand running up his back to lay at the nape of his neck.
They parted. The kiss was broken, but the moment was intact. His fingers still rested in the home they had made in the hair at her temple as he whispered, "I love you."
Milan squeezed his neck with her hand and replied, "I love you more."
He laughed and leaned down for another kiss.
