That Boy

by: davh

Notes: Change in POV. It's companion to first chapter, thus this runs along the same timeline. Heero's POV this time. Enjoy.

Who are you?

Why are you staring at me with such intensity and emotion that makes me fidget under your gaze? Why does your amethyst eyes create waves that beg to be understood?

I am standing here, waiting for… I'm not quite sure what I'm waiting for. I've been here too long. But you know that don't you? I know you've been studying me. Imprinting my every detail, my every essence into your mind. But why?

I am not an angel. No far from it. I am not worthy of your attention. I stand here, with my jacket pulled tightly around my body not to keep out the cold, but to keep in my own darkness. To protect you from me.

Please, as you stare trustingly at me with your large adoring purple eyes, keep away. Don't try to save me.

How cliché you must think I am. Selfless. The brave warrior who marches defiantly into battle to protect a lady's honour, and of course getting himself killed along the way. I'm sadly not like that. I'm selfish. I admit it. I only think of me.

I am only looking for an escape from this cold dark world, and if standing at the sidewalk where you appear daily helps, then who's to stop me? I'm not here for you; I'm here for me. Never forget that.

You're unconsciously beautiful. Did you know that? No I bet you didn't. You hold yourself together with this empty airiness, effortlessly. Your long auburn braid ripples gorgeously down your back. Caressing your body as you moved, where your gracefulness extends even deep into the roots of your hair. It catches my attention every time. I never knew I could admire some stranger, and their hair for so long. You are changing my perspective.

You scare me.

You catch my eyes. They say eyes are the windows to one's soul. In your case, they weren't wrong. You seem to drown in my eyes; their reflections in your eyes create a drunken stupor. Almost as if to you I am as water is to a thirsty man who has survived in the desert for weeks with nothing but his own salty tears. You affect me too. The ease with which I can read you surprises me, comforts me. Your fears are evident in your eyes, but what saddens me is the lack of hope, of belief, of dreams. For a fleeting second I wish to replace those lost dreams, lost beliefs, lost hopes in your eyes, but that wish disappears as quickly as it appears.

I only care for me.

He came to me today. He's not a relation, not a friend, not a lover. Not an acquaintance either. Just a comfort. He comes at irregular times of a year but I'm grateful for him today. He helps me examine the mystery of you. Did that surprise you? That my thoughts were of you? And I don't even know your name.

You make me unsure of myself. I know I'm cruel, I'm callous, I get drunk on random nights when the world gets too much for me, I have casual sex with girls and boys alike, whose faces I can never remember, whose names I don't think I ever caught, and if I could give in to the animalistic instincts in me, I wouldn't hesitate to kill.

Does that frighten you? I'm not trying to scare you away. Please don't be. Please don't leave me. I'm just telling you the truth about me. Somehow I think you can deal with that. Please don't prove my judgement wrong. I'm beginning to depend on your presence.

I wouldn't hesitate to kill. Not because I enjoy it, I don't think I'm like that, taking pleasure in other's pain, in their blood pouring out of wounds that slowly suck their life's breath away. No, life's too precious for that. Maybe I should rephrase. I wouldn't hesitate to kill those who pose as a threat to me. A threat to your existence, I might also kill, but please don't expect too much from me yet. I'm not ready to give.

Please…

Do you ever think of me? I think of you. I wonder what you're thinking about. I wonder if you're staring out at the sky and looking at that same bright star as me. I wonder if you are making a wish upon that star, unlike me who question it's existence. I wonder if you wonder about me.

Do you ever wonder about me?

I've come to realise that I'm not perfect. It takes a while to get use to. You might laugh at this absurd notion as everyone was brought up knowing there is no such thing as perfection. But although I was always told perfection did not exist, I was always expected to be perfect. There's a difference you see, with perfection and being perfect. They always expected so much from me, pressured me to be so much more than I think I was ready to give. I was always brought up striving for that perfection, and being perfect along the way. But what they didn't realise, our actions didn't make us perfect. Our beings determined our perfection. My being is too dark, too unforgiving, unfeeling. I was never taught to give.

Does that help you? Explain to you why I will you to keep away from me? Because you deserve so much more than a broken spirit. And really, that's what I am deep down. A lost child seeking for love in this harsh reality. You don't need me. Move on.

I don't know what made me talk to you.

What made me say those two words to you. Maybe I was tiring of our mute communications. Maybe I was realising that you weren't really listening to me. To my words. But instead, listening to my heart. How you can possibly hear my heart, I don't understand. I didn't even realise I had a heart until I met you. You made me aware of that beating pulse through my body. Never ending, never stopping. Constant. Just like you in my life.

"I'm jaded."

Those words just slipped through my lips. I couldn't help myself. I wanted to prove to myself that you did notice my existence, that I'm not a mere ghost wandering this world without a purpose. That I did have a purpose, and somehow it all links to you.

Please, I continue silently, fighting the urge to take you into my arms and strengthen myself with your warmth, your life force and hear the beating of my heart in time with yours.

Please, leave me alone. I don't think I am strong enough to protect you.

I'm not strong enough to protect you from me.

Did that confuse you? Our conversation? Well, really just my two words. I wish you had spoken too. Maybe then your voice won't haunt me in my dreams. This whispering wisp that twirls around me, encasing me in its cool dance, and yet it's untouchable, imaginary. It's because you never replied. I never got the chance to hear your voice.

I will hurt you, you know. The closer you get, the worse it will be when the time comes. And it will come. Neither of us will walk long enough for eternity to come to a comfortable close. The higher you rise, the more distance you have to fall, the harder you will fall and the more pain you will feel. I don't think I can bear to see you hurt.

Somehow, over these months, you have become an integrated part of me. Almost as if you're godsend. Not that I believe in god. No, there can't possibly be an all-powerful being out there controlling our lives. Because if there is, you wouldn't be crying.

You are precious to me. You are vital to me. I need you.

Isn't that strange? You've come to mean more to me than any other person on this world, and I don't even know your name, you've never spoken a single word to me. Yet, your presence is familiar, almost like home.

I love...

No, I'm not ready to admit it. Not just yet.

You're gone.

Just like that.

I don't believe it.

I never imagined it.

It's my fault really. A business trip that cause me to leave for two weeks. And when I come back... But still...

I thought you depended on me. I thought you needed me. I thought that if I came back, you'd still be here. That we were crucial to each other's survival.

I thought you could never depend on me, because I will disappear. I thought I would hurt you, because I am not a good person. I thought one day I will break your heart.

I never thought you could do all that to me.

It doesn't seem real. This threat that I probably will never see you again.

I am alone again, yet the world seems so much emptier.

I miss you. Do you miss me? Wherever you are…

They played this hauntingly beautiful song on the radio last night. It reminded me of you. Made me wonder if you're happier now? I am no longer upset with you. I learnt that all my life I've been too selfish, and though I can blame it on my upbringing, on the pressures that they pushed upon me, on the lack of love I received, lack of attention, I won't. It's no one else's fault but mine. It's my fault I'm selfish. But I will somehow redeem myself by wondering about you. By praying for your redemption. For your emancipation. For your happiness. I know I said I don't believe in god, but lets overlook my atheism for once, and just pray for you.

Just pray for you. Because you are pure light beauty.

I returned to our place today. Isn't that funny? That corner of the city, I've come to call it our place. Ours. I saw so many ghosts of you. A twinkle of lively amethyst eyes. But those eyes were the wrong shade. A sweep of your graceful braid. But it was too short. They were never you. Maybe imitations of perfection, but never you. I miss you.

You made me forget all my worldly troubles for a while. You made me forget that I have no real home to return to every night. You made me forget that everyone I've ever cared for has left and hurt me. You made me forget that I'm worthless.

You made me feel alive.

I've come to realise I never really knew you. I'd feel as if we've been connected since the creation of the world, but I never learnt your story. I never learnt why you always stared at me with your soulfully sad eyes. A look of longing imprinted in them. I know you weren't longing for me, (though I wished you were) but it seemed as if you were longing for a purpose. But that can't possibly be true. Our purpose in this world is to die. Fade away. It's the one guarantee in life.

I don't know why I'm suddenly so cynical.

But I do wonder about you? And then I'm left wondering if you are wondering about me?

I'm selfish. Wanting you all to myself. Wanting you to want me. Wanting you to think of me. But it's just my imagination. I have a vivid imagination. They use to tell me that in kindergarten. When the teachers sat us down and gave us coloured pencils and ordered us to draw, I'd sit there. Isn't that strange for an imaginative child, you might ask. But I sat there, just letting my imagination run. I was never good at expressing myself. Not in words. Not in pictures. I could only do it in thoughts. Then the teacher would come and question my lack of attention to the task at hand. I remember always coming with outrageous answers. So they wrote that on my report. Said I had such a vivid imagination that I could never stick to the task at hand. Quite hilarious now I think back.

I've always been selfish.

I'm not scared of death. It's the vast emptiness that follows that scares me.

Some people are claustrophobic, scared of tight enclose spaces. I'm not like that. I don't mind being enclosed, as long as I know my limits. It's the endless expansion of space, the infinite possibilities that scares me.

I wonder who will truly remember me when I'm gone. When I was little, I planned to do something terribly great for mankind. Like save the world. I had decided I wanted the whole world to remember me when I died. I didn't want to be a celebrity, that's overstated, I didn't want to be missed, that's comforting but it's just a feeling that will fade. But I wanted to be so impressed into history, that there is no possibility that I will just disappear. I was foolish back then. Too trusting, too believing. It took years living in the real world for me to learn that lesson.

But you reminded me of believing in myself. You made me question for a moment my worth, made me reconsider my decision on my own worthlessness.

But now it doesn't matter anymore. Nothing will matter anymore.

I will no longer bother the world with my presence. I will fade away, disappear, and leave, as if I've never been here to begin with.

I'm coming to find you, my love. Just be patient for a while longer, Duo. I'm so sorry.

End Notes: There will be one more chapter, a more conclusive chapter. Happy ending? You'll have to wait to see. Please review, I'd love to hear what you think about this story plus it'd make me smile for the rest of the day. So pretty please?