Adagio
Adagio – musical marking, slow and stately (literally, "at ease")
A/N: The term 'black company' is an internet slang originally used by IT workers in early 2000s. The term is associated with poor work-life balance and overworking. If you haven't heard of it before, wishing you the continuous good fortune to never know one!
Chapter 10: Carousel (Merīgōraundo メリーゴーラウンド)
Merry-go-round and carousel are synonyms. Some say that the difference between them is that they turn in different directions. Others say that one has all sorts of animals while the other only has horses. Whatever the reason, merry-go-rounds in Europe tend to turn clockwise. The ones in North America tend to turn counter-clockwise.
Merry-go-round of life can be interpreted in either a positive or negative way. On one hand it represents how life is always changing, referring to its constant movement, the changing imagery. The sky darkens, the weather changes, the crowd moves, the music changes. Some of the movements change, the sensations that you feel change. The butterflies in your stomach keep fluttering. On the other hand there is a static element, a repeated cycle that occurs again and again. There are the ups-and-downs, the lack of control after you get on. The cyclic nature, from a certain perspective, can be seen as somewhat pointless. Going round and round and not moving anywhere. Regardless of whether one rides on with glee or fear, it shakes, jumps, and hops, until at a certain point, the music stops.
Fun fact: The "merry-go-round of life" is also a famous movie score of Howl's Moving Castle, by the Japanese composer Joe Hisaishi.
Have fun, even if it's not the same kind of fun everyone else is having. ― C.S. Lewis
It was only proper to notify Trowa in advance, so that was what Quatre did. He was amenable to the visit, yet as expected had reservations regarding the personal introduction.
"It is not necessary," Trowa said in his baritone voice. His voice was calm as always, but Quatre could sense his underlying agitation.
"I didn't tell her about you." Deciding being completely open was best, Quatre disclosed, "I think Heero did. Or about to do so."
Seeing a glimmer of curiosity in those Sacramento green eyes, Quatre admitted, "I don't know the details."
After a brief pause, Trowa asked, "Is she trustworthy?"
"Very," was Quatre's reply.
Trowa mulled it over, facing sideways. "The war is over."
Quatre waited, wondering where he was going with that. Yes, it was a new era. A peaceful world. Sometimes he himself pondered where one's past belonged in such an age.
"We can be friends. Normal friends." There was that sentiment. To conceal, keeping an ace up your sleeves. Or deeper still… to forget, letting bygones be bygones. Quatre could understand that. But.
"She would know, Trowa." Both his tactician's mind and his empathetic intuition had arrived at one single conclusion. "She is perceptive."
Trowa looked back at him. "Like you."
A small smile spread on Quatre's lips. He nodded. "Maybe too observant for her own good."
And too inquisitive and headstrong too, in that regard. Having been raised as heir and heiress wasn't the only thing they had in common.
"All right." Closing his eyes, Trowa demurred, "There is not much to tell."
On the contrary, Quatre thought, sometimes there were a lot of things to tell. "Heero said he would call you."
There was a hint of a smile in Trowa's deep green eyes. "I look forward to it."
[Justine Sashenka Randolph. Blood type A. Of mixed European background. Her surname Randolph is derived from the Old Norse Rannúlfr which means 'shield-wolf'. Her middle name Sashenka is a gender-neutral Russian version of Alexandra, which means 'defender' or 'helper of mankind'. Her Russian relatives called her with diminutive Sasha, everyone else called her Justine. Has blue eyes. Her mid-length auburn hair is wavy, usually put up in an up-do. Stylish in a neat, classic way. Has temperate personality.]
[Tayanita Everose. Blood type B. Of Indigenous descent. In native American language Tayanita means young beaver, she goes by Nita which means bear. She likes the stronger nickname better. Has hazel eyes and chin-length brown hair that was cut choppy and unevenly. Doesn't typically wear makeup. Often dressed in simple, tomboy-ish style. Rejects adornment except for her hair which she occasionally put in thin braids, as homage to her roots.]
[Song Jae Hoon (송 재훈). Blood type AB. Of Korean descent. Plays the straight man in the comic trio, has a discerning nature. In English-speaking world he goes by Jay or Jason. Jae Hoon is taken from hanja 才 'talent, ability' and Sino-Korean 勳 'meritorious deed'. Song in hanja 成 means 'success'. Has black eyes and black straight hair, cropped cut in military style.]
[Kyle MacLachlan. Blood type O. The popular jock type in school. Of Scottish origin. The name Kyle is derived from a region in Ayrshire which is a historic county in south-west Scotland. The region name came from the Scottish Gaelic word caol which ironically means 'narrow, strait'. Has blond hair with a slight curl, worn longer than most other officers, almost touching the ears and collar. Bright, playful green eyes.]
Maintaining the schedule of the vice foreign minister was not an easy job.
These past couple years, it was mostly due to how her time was constantly on high demand, and the vice minister, in her youthful enthusiasm, tended to take on more than others would. There were certain nuggets of wisdom one could only gain over time after all… she was still holding out hope. On the other hand, the vice minister's consistency could be seen as a boon. It was something to be thankful for, not having one's livelihood hinged on a capricious boss. The ever-so-dreaded 'please clear my schedule for the day' rarely made an appearance. When it did, it was almost always accompanied with an apologetic look, and as long of an advance notice as possible.
Just like today. Justine sat at her desk, listening to Relena breaking the news to her security entails. She was sounding almost cheerful at the prospect of a vacation. Her calendar allowed a number of options after all.
What she didn't quite expect was how the team reacted.
"Great! I'd like to take some time off as well," Kyle jumped in. Justine belatedly remembered their silly discussion some months ago. Someone was apparently keen on keeping the pact.
"Me too!" Voice bright with excitement, Nita impulsively seconded.
There was a pause. Then, significantly less enthusiastic, came Jason's reply, "…me three."
Justine closed her eyes and slumped quietly in her seat.
Guys, she thought. Laying it on too thick.
She straightened her neck and risked a glance. Justine saw the valiant effort Jason made to hide his ambivalence at the oh-so-sudden excuses his younger colleagues were spouting. And it was successful… to a certain degree. On her end, it took all she had not to wince, to maintain a neutral face. Those years in politics actually came in handy.
Justine put on her best secretary smile. Neither half of the non-couple figured she was involved in the conspiracy yet. She was spared this time. Watching Relena's bemused look, she knew her turn would come next. Now what should she say – or not say – to throw the vice minister off the trail?
Relena stared at her team. It was rather humorous how the three tripped over themselves, replying in concurrence. Did she take a vacation that rarely?
She listened to them, waiting for her turn to speak. She barely got to say how many days off she planned to take. She had not even mentioned when exactly the vacation would take place… or the destination.
Having second thoughts, she silently debated between disclosing the reason for her vacation or not.
She was about to invite everyone, actually. From what she recalled, the entire team liked Quatre. Not that anyone could dislike the gentleman. She had imagined they would have a grand time in L4, a fun outing with friends. Oh well, she thought, deciding to keep the invitation to herself. Now that they had told her they would like to take time off, extending it would seem that she was against them leaving.
Something was odd, though. She turned a few possible reasons in her head and none seemed to truly fit. Not able to put her finger on a good one, she chalked it up to how everyone had been digging her for being overly motivated, if not outright workaholic. The officers thoroughly enjoyed their break last fall, so it wasn't entirely surprising they wanted to take time off from work.
Maybe she should talk to Heero about the idea to rotate… Her brain skidded to a halt. Wait. Since he joined the Preventer, had he ever taken any days off? The long work hours were part of the job, so there wasn't much she could do about it. The least she could do was to enable people to use their allotted paid leave. It wouldn't do to work people to the bone. The ministry was not a black company.
Still… what did they do now? Hopefully they wouldn't have to cancel. Quatre would be sorely disappointed.
As the officers outlined reasons they would like to, or more aptly, needed to take vacation, Relena turned her head. A slight movement, just enough to get his attention.
Lowering her voice, she asked, "Should we arrange for other guards?"
Glancing at her, Heero tuned out the others' voices. Of course she wouldn't deny their requests to take days off. From the Labor Standard Act perspective, he didn't think he should be privy to employees' personal activities… Or browbeat people when they wanted to use their rights either.
Figuring the frown on his face was a tad intimidating, he backed out to neutral. He would honor her wish… wishes, plural. No matter how incongruous they were.
Objectively speaking, aside from having developed a good rapport with Relena, the team did have a lot to offer.
Officer Everose was Relena's closest. She had a small but scrappy built, with a surprisingly keen eye for detail. Being of the same gender as their protectee came with the benefit of being able to tag into places that others couldn't access.
Officer MacLachlan excelled in physical combat. He had recently made good strides in improving his marksmanship, those extra hours in the shooting range paying off.
Officer Song was an all-rounder, with exceptional talent in tactical driving. On top of being the oldest and the most experienced, he had a good head on his shoulders, making him the default secondary lead in their away missions.
They had the advantage of knowing each other's style, having worked well as a team.
No matter how temporary, it would be less than ideal to substitute the guards with second-rate replacements. On the other hand…
Relena had taken to actually look at him. Coming to a decision, he met her eyes. "I have an idea."
He had months to strategize around her security protocol. If she agreed, it was time to put things in motion.
His conversation with the zero one pilot was short, which suited Trowa just fine. He rather preferred getting straight to the point than getting bogged down with details.
Heero provided him with the approximate dates, security screenings, and guard duty arrangements. Mostly standard procedures, except for one interesting detail, but nothing completely atypical.
Then at last, they addressed the proverbial elephant in the room.
"How did she know about us?" Trowa asked straightaway.
"She knew Duo and Quatre. From the wars." Heero omitted himself, but their association during the Operation Meteor – and after – was common knowledge among the pilots. "She got to know Wufei from the Preventer."
"How much does she know?"
"A lot." There was a pause. "Everything, almost."
That statement took Trowa aback. "…do you think it is a good idea for me to meet her?"
"Truth, I owe her that much," Heero replied. "She saved my life."
Trowa had the same mentality. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. A life for a life. Between himself and the other pilot, they had such a debt, which in a convoluted way they managed to settle during the wars.
Heero looked at him for a beat, quietly adding, "You understand."
And somehow, Trowa understood. There was more to a person than a vengeance, a remission, or even an atonement. After all the twists and turns of fate, Trowa had found a place to call home. Cathy and the circus gave him that. A place to return to, to belong. Heero didn't have that before.
"I do," was all that Trowa said in return. Trust, for people like them, was worth more than gold.
The screen went dark after they disconnected.
Very well, he thought to himself. Quatre and Heero had formed their opinions. He would meet the Queen of the World and see for himself.
This must be what an ordinary life looked like.
Relena stood among the crowd, walking slowly on one side of the pavement, trying not to block the road. The sunlight was bright, the temperature was hot, and there were a lot of people. All around her there was a mixture of colorful shapes, sound effects, and animated conversations which all blended into a jolly, if borderline chaotic, atmosphere.
She didn't quite grasp how big the month-long exhibition was. The circus, it turned out, was only one of the entertainment in the annual L4 festival. The 28-day fair comprised a mix of shopping areas, exhibits, live entertainment, cultural displays, sports events, and a large carnival midway with many rides, games and food. She heard there was a casino on the site somewhere, perhaps one of the stopping points of the elevated sky ride passing overhead, beyond the Ferris wheel. On the weekends, there were big shows which attracted even more crowd, ranging from record-breaking drone light show to ice skating performance by Olympic medallists.
Among the myriad choices of amusement and the sheer number of visitors, getting discovered was unlikely. If anything, she should worry about getting lost, which would have been beyond easy to do, save for her security commander pulling double duty as a human GPS by her side.
She should have taken more days off. When they checked in, she had seen others signing in with what looked like a month-long pass, a little similar to the membership pass she had seen in big amusement parks. She had been to an amusement park with her parents. And to a circus as well, although not on the same occasion. But she had never been to a carnival. Now that she was thinking about it, she realized she had never been to street festivals. Or open-air concerts. Or anything completely open to the public like this, really, including a grand parade.
It was quite an experience. It felt a bit like a masquerade. Far more exuberant and vibrant and free, but similar feelings. There was that heady urge that came with anonymity. To dance, to join the revelry, to have fun.
Stealing a glance to her designated guard of the day, she had to amend that this kind of ambience might not be for everyone. Heero had shown not a smidgeon of inclination to take part in the festivity, looking very much alert to their surroundings. There was a rich contrast between the surly look on his face and the happy faces around them. He had snapped into attention every time something popped up, a loud shriek, an excited squeal, a howl of laughter. She had seen his right hand twitched more than a few times, as if about to reach into his jacket, where his gun was secured. Perhaps she should hold his hand to save him the trouble…
Before she worked out the nerve, a ball bounced towards her feet and distracted her from that thought.
Heero was, to put it bluntly, feeling out of place.
He knew he wasn't very good with crowds. It was something he was aware of, and had been trying to fix. Trying to desensitize himself, he had made several trips on his own, both before and after joining the Preventer. When purchasing items or getting food, he went on purpose to the bigger stores, to the popular spots, to places where people gathered.
Those training sessions ended up being useless in this situation. It was one thing to be among a throng of people by himself. It was another thing to be there with company. Especially if said company was someone he had to keep safe at all costs. Relena didn't seem to mind losing extra layers of defense, but he couldn't be as careless.
She had picked up on his obvious discomfort, but refrained from making any remarks. He checked his wrist link, still a while before the time to meet up with Quatre. He couldn't wait to get more allies to join them. The clock seemed to tick much slower.
Objectively speaking, the risk level wasn't too high. They were simply walking around, checking the attractions, people watching. The atmosphere was festive. The visitors ranged from the youngest to the oldest, from babies to elderly. He surmised the average age group was on the younger side, mostly families, groups of friends, couples. Not the type of people who would turn violent at the drop of a hat.
Relena herself was in disguise, wearing a one-piece white dress with a sheer layer of floral embroidery, and a light brown cardigan in the same color as the belt cinching her waist. Her hair was tied into a loose, low ponytail, mostly covered by a bucket hat in darker brown. She had glasses on and had originally worn a mask, yet had taken it off mid-walk, concluding it to be too conspicuous. He approved her choice of footwear. The comfortable shoes would work for a quick getaway. It wasn't much of a disguise, frankly, but enough to fit in.
It was unexpected, how well she fit in. This kind of thing didn't quite suit her. The carnival was garish and loud. Everything felt like an attack to the senses. Eyes, nose, ears. He was sure she wasn't used to it either, except that she took it on with more grace than he did.
This type of place was so far removed from the venues her kind would visit, that there was little chance of them bumping into anyone they knew. No one was paying them any notice either, not with everything else around them competing for attention.
The semi-permanent structures were dotted with overt decorations. Flags, lights, brightly hued signs, the more eye-catching the better. They passed a few street food stalls. Hot dogs, burgers, fries. Fried chickens, roasted corns. Other kinds of food he couldn't identify. There was a lemonade stand that actually shaped like a lemon, its sole attendant inside serving drinks through the middle slit. There was another drink stall, its roof an oversized basket of inflated fruits, swaying in the wind. Yet another stall, selling root beer, had a wooden cask in the middle. There was neither a keystone nor a tap, so the wooden barrel must be merely for décor.
The fairly low price admission attracted a big crowd. Lively, overly ostentatious people, who seemed to leave their more mundane lives outside the gates. Cleaners walked around with brooms and dustpans, wearing shirts and hats in matching purple.
The noises were the most distracting. It came from almost all directions. Thumping bass, electric tones, pulsing sound. An awful lot of human sound effects. Crowds talking, kids screaming, people coughing, laughing, sneezing. Mouths slurping something liquid, crunching something crispy. Hands clapping, feet scuffling.
Even without the immediate dangers of a wild audience or getting recognized, there were still a lot of things to watch out for. He had to touch her a few times, pulling her to the side to avoid bumping into people. He didn't think they would get robbed in broad daylight, but with a crowd this large there would still be pickpockets.
Every once in a while, there would be people taking pictures of an outlandish stall or a landmark. Like that ten-feet-tall cowboy boot with a white and red plaque, sporting the name of a beer brand. They would either stop or walk faster, to avoid getting captured in the still image. Social media was truly the bane of one's existence.
There were steel wires overhead, supporting what looked like an alpine ride, a cross between an amusement ride and a method of transportation. The chairlift had no safety net underneath. Every looming shadow made him wary of falling headgear, footwear, or miscellaneous accessories. The lineup to get on the ride was unbelievably long.
They continued on to a sprawling alleyway lined with games. The game keepers were all vying for attention, trying to get under people's skin, issuing an invitation, a dare, a challenge. There were a large variety of games. Stand-a-bottle, ring tosses, basketball free throws.
The basketball hoops were decently spaced. There were four rings screwed to a long board with a bright green sign, decorated with, oddly, colorful volleyballs. At the bottom of the stall sat a pile of stuffed toys, presumably prizes for winners. Heero noted the balls were overly inflated, and the rims were much smaller. With no shooter's square clearly marked, the odds were stacked against the challenger. A gangly kid in shorts and cap made the shot, rousing rounds of clapping and cheering. From his family and the game keeper, others waiting in line for their turn, and random passersby. Including Relena. She returned his look with lifted eyebrows, laughed, and continued walking.
As they made their way through, he saw many stalls offering variations of similar games, like the wheels of fortune and the Kentucky Derby betting game. A few unique ones, like the beer pong. The shoot-a-target game had a laughably short range, but the noise was still disturbing. She took a longer route to avoid passing in front of the booth, possibly out of consideration to him. He tried his best to relax.
After a few minutes walking towards the Ferris wheel, they arrived at where the amusement rides were. They passed by a pendulum ride, a haunted house, a drop tower. There was a hurricane ride that people rode horizontally, face down. It was packed full of screaming kids and kid-like adults. People were shrieking as if getting killed, rivalling what Heero once heard in an underground colony abattoir, the domestic livestock slaughterhouse.
There was another swiftly moving ride, going upside down and sideways in tight circles, which guaranteed people with weak ear canals getting sick in no time. Why people paid good money to be tortured, he wouldn't know.
They made it to the kids' area, where the crowds were thinner and the attraction was marginally milder. The strawberry spinning ride claimed to suit all ages. To Heero, it seemed a tad intense for toddlers. There were games stalls too. Bust-a-balloon, a dart game that used velcro balls instead of actual darts, a smaller ring throw using glass bottles.
A beaver mascot bopped up and down, waving to welcome guests, its face fixed in a perpetual smile. There were two rainbow colored giraffes, which he thought were robots, before catching the breathing vents on the front. The costumes looked too hot and stuffy to be worn all day, playing with energetic kids.
A stray rubber ball rolled in their direction. As Relena bent to pick the ball up, he saw it came from the skee ball game booth. It had six lines and half of them were occupied. Families were cheering for the children. It seemed there was a time limit. The game keeper was doing a countdown, making the audience clap and chant. Let's go, let's go, let's go. In a frantic attempt to use up all the balls, one of them had bounced off. The younger girl panickedly looked at the rolling ball, torn between chasing it or continuing with the one on her hand.
The older kid, presumably her brother, moved in a rush, yelling, "I'll get it!"
Picking up on their desperation, Relena threw the ball back, getting a "Thank you Miss!" slung over one shoulder.
Three, two, one, and the bell was rung. They were too late, but the vendor owner generously allowed the kids to use the last ball anyway, prompting cheers and whistles. And a relieved oh from Relena.
She had taken several steps towards the game stall and anxiously watched the counter. Visibly glad, she returned to his side, commenting, "That was nice."
He could actually agree.
Truth to be told, the idea of having fun was foreign to him. Mindless entertainment, doing something for no clear purpose.
They made one big loop around the area mostly to kill time. He wouldn't have ventured to this kind of place on his own. If left to his own devices, he would come to the meetup place much later, with precisely enough time to take the most efficient route and arrive at the meeting spot on the dot. Actually, he wouldn't have picked this kind of place either. There were a lot of other low-key places to pick, directly at the circus tent, for example.
Yet the meandering path they took wasn't so bad. In their day-to-day lives there weren't many chances to take long walks, unhurried, relaxedly, with no specific destination in mind. He paid attention to everything around them, keeping watch, which was his job. She, on the other hand, spent her time browsing, showing interest in people, in the games. Absorbing the scenery and lightly enjoying the new experience. Fun must be this kind of activity.
He noticed she slowed down when something caught her interest. He automatically matched her pace. They had talked little since entering the site. Shouting above the noisy crowd was not a good way to have a private conversation. For the first time that day he purposely watched where her gaze went, where her eyes lingered, and saw more.
He wasn't sure if she wanted to play or to get one of those prizes, but he felt compelled to ask. "Would you like to stop by?"
She turned to him in surprise. A slow, appreciative smile spread across her face, eliciting a feeling stronger than just nice. He should have asked sooner. Having fun, it turned out, had its own rewards.
Relena paused beside a game stall.
From what she had seen, the attendees' dress code was eclectic. Big hats, neon pink boots, gaudy lanyards with enormous pendants like that one, shaped like a dollar sign. Some toted around pixelated toy guns made from soft rubber, fancy manual fans made of paper or plastic.
She had thought people came dressed for the occasion. After walking through the alleyway, she found that many of the colorful accessories were winnable prizes from the games.
In comparison, the two of them were dressed a bit too plainly. She eyed the hats. The poop shaped one on the shelf was too hilarious to miss. They should blend in a bit, she thought amusedly, sliding a side glance at Heero.
He was in casual wear, a pair of faded jeans, a white t-shirt, and a bomber jacket that looked suspiciously familiar. Was the Preventer jacket reversible? The combat boots on his feet were definitely part of the uniform. He could pass as a regular joe, especially if one was to ignore the rigid posture and hawkish stare, but an accessory or two would further take off the edge.
Perhaps she should get something. She looked at the hat again, contemplating how well it would work as a souvenir. Her mother would be amused by it, but wouldn't be caught dead wearing one. Annie, her housekeeper, had sons. She wondered if it would be a fun gift. She would have brought some for her team… except that it would blow their cover.
This particular outing involved some creative thinking. The protocol mandated a minimum of three officers for prolonged periods outside of any secured, previously approved areas like her home or office. Her current off-planet trip ought to meet that requirement… and with a bit of a stretch, it did. She knew there were people outside of the organization having civilian badges, but she wasn't aware that other former pilots had them. Heero and Trowa fulfilled the first two slots, and after being informed of the plan, Quatre genially agreed to get his. The paperwork was done in time for the trip, so off they went.
Officially speaking, the presence of civilian agents was kept on a need-to-know basis. On the record, she took the days off to visit her mother in Japan. Very few people knew where she actually went: her housekeeper in Brussels, Pagan, and her mother.
Not that she was a stickler, but she wasn't sure that was how things should work. The security arrangements were much looser. Their jaunt around the carnival likely wouldn't make it into the written report, for example. Well, she wouldn't be the one complaining.
Heero's question brought her back to the present.
She was beyond surprised by his offer to let her try a round. He had shown little interest in the carnival, aside from brief pauses at a few particularly wacky things, and clear disinclination to play around.
She considered saying yes. Yet there was a lineup, and it was getting close to their meetup time with Quatre. She wasn't sure if her athletic skill was decent enough to win anything in one go. Not that she really wanted the prize…
Refraining from accepting his offer didn't mean she had not imagined Heero wearing such a hat. She promptly turned the other way and pursed her lips to keep from laughing.
Passing by an elegantly shaped music building, a theatre with a glass front, and a multi-purpose auditorium, they finally found the food court.
After the kaleidoscope of colors and shapes that was the carnival, the building looked inviting in its plainness. It had high ceilings, bright spotlights dotting the exposed beams. The metal roof gave it an industrial vibe, akin to an airplane hangar, and was equally huge. A few spots opened up to square shaped skylights, the glass allowed artificial sunlight to shine down to the concrete floor.
The booths inside still had big signs, but not nearly as lurid as the ones in the arcade area. It boasted an amazing buffet of food selections, from crowd favorites to uncommon foods only sold during festivals, from many cultures. The mixed smell of food should be, by all accounts, nauseating. Instead, it was heavenly. The exhaust fans must be doing its job.
It looked like a food court in a shopping mall. Not as upscale, but fairly clean. The high ceiling and wide spaces between the stalls kept visitors from feeling claustrophobic.
Quatre was good at picking the right time. There were people, of course, but the lunch crowd had not swarmed in yet.
There were several seating areas to choose from. They picked a spot in the quieter corner. The noise level was much lower than the carnival, much higher than a fine dining restaurant. The closest comparative might be the dull murmur of the Preventer's cafeteria, though she suspected the volume would pick up significantly as the day progressed.
Relena was happy to sit down. They had walked quite a bit earlier. Heero was doing his usual routine, scanning their surroundings, his eyes sweeping over the nearby tables before steadily looking outwards.
She should ask what kind of things he paid attention to when on duty. As it was, the only thing stood out to her was food. Two tables away, she saw a funnel cake topped with ice cream and oreo cookies, shaped like a certain big-eared mouse. Obviously not something that registered on his radar.
Giving up, she rested her chin on her hand and looked at his chiselled side profile instead. Watching him closely, she observed he was no longer high-strung. There was markedly less tension around his jaw and shoulders. Letting her gaze trailed down to his hands, she noted they were steady, with no trace of prior jittery nerves.
And she had stared for too long. Those dark eyes shifted towards her. Cautious of calling her name out loud, his low tone had an appealingly husky quality, "Relena?"
Deciding against asking if he was okay, she cheerily replied, "Nothing."
Love has two hands: one is gentle, the other one, strong. – Jocelyn Soriano