It had been a painstakingly long day. Wufei had left, irate at their arrival. Quatre had given them the tour of the cabin, which had taken all of five minutes. Then he had retreated to the chair in the living room. //What is it with these guys and their chairs?// Trowa wanted to sit with Quatre and find out what was bothering him, but he had to take care of Heero first. That surprised him, too. Usually Quatre was the one who fussed over them, like some mother hen. The blonde would have examined Heero's wounds, and seen to his every comfort, annoying the hell out of Heero, who didn't like such treatment.
Although, with Quatre one took it with a grain of salt, it was his nature. And truth be told, they secretly enjoyed it. When the whole cosmos was out for your blood, it was comforting to know that someone out there cared for your safety. They had so few they could trust, let alone call friends, that no matter how they protested, they reveled in Quatre's tending to them. He in some way managed to make up for their lack of true family.
But now was different, he had hardly acknowledged their being there. Quatre hadn't even given Heero's bandages a second glance. True, the Japanese boy often put himself into life and death situations, but however many times he had hurt himself, Quatre would always worry over it.
Trowa settled Heero in the house's only bed. The tall boy rechecked his injuries. Once he was sure they were fine, he pulled the cover over him. Blue eyes glared at him, and threatened pain if he didn't stop soon. Trowa got the message and left the room, telling Heero to rest. Heero grunted in reply, but the strain of the last few days overcame him, and he drifted into slumber. Trowa headed to the living room, to find Quatre. The Arabian was still there, he appeared to be focused on some spot on the wall. Trowa sat on the couch, next to his chair, coughing slightly at the dust that wafted around him. He sat there nonchalantly for a few minutes, waiting for Quatre to begin the conversation.
The blonde began most of their talks. It wasn't that the banged boy had nothing to say, it was just that he truly enjoyed listening to Quatre. Quatre had a natural eloquence when he spoke, and so much sincerity in his words. He seemed to get fully involved in whatever topic they were discussing, be it composers, or symphonies, or their favorite literature. His face would light up, and his voice would take on an excited pitch. Like it was the most wonderful debate he'd ever taken part in.
Trowa cherished the occasional talks they had. During them, Quatre treated Trowa like the center of his universe. He listened to everything the green eyed boy had to say, really listened to him. And made Trowa feel like his opinions were of the utmost importance. No one else had ever done that. And that genuine interest had made Trowa feel special. But today it looked like Trowa was going to have to be the one to initiate the conversation. Quatre hadn't shown a sign of even noticing his presence. And that made him nervous.
Normally Quatre would have taken care of Heero, then sought Trowa out to play a duet, or talk about whatever was on his mind. But now, Trowa wasn't even sure if Quatre knew they were in the same room. This distant Quatre was such a drastic change, that Trowa didn't know how to deal with it. He briefly thought that maybe this was Quatre's way of stating he wanted to be left alone, but he dismissed that idea. If Quatre needed solitude he would have politely asked for it. No, the reason for his silence was something else.
Trowa reached over and placed his hand on top of Quatre's, on the armrest. Quatre seemed startled, because he pulled his hand back, and slowly shifted his gaze toward Trowa. Trowa tried to smile as he met Quatre's eyes, but as their orbs encountered each other he couldn't. There was no joy to be found in them. In fact, even though Quatre's eyes were locked with his own, they seemed not to acknowledge his presence. It was as if their blue-green surface was staring right through him. Quatre continued to peer at him, unseeing, almost trance like. Trowa felt chills run from his scalp to his toes. He waved his hand in front of Quatre's face. Nothing. Not even a blink. Trowa took hold of the blonde's arm and shook him lightly.
Quatre blanched at the contact, and Trowa immediately let go. Quatre's eyes took focus, and finally he seemed to realize that Trowa was sitting next to him. Trowa's lips curved slightly. To someone who didn't know him, it was nothing. To Quatre it would've been heart warming. Something that would've brought a full fledged smile to his face. But, today, nothing. Not even an attempt at returning it. Trowa saw Quatre's eyes going glassy again, and he knew if he wanted to draw the blonde out it would take more than just that.
"How have you been, Quatre?" The response he got was a shrug of Quatre's shoulders. //This is worse than I thought. It must have been his last mission. Maybe something went wrong.// "I saw Sandrock. Would you like some help with the repairs?" Another shrug, only this time Quatre averted his eyes as well. Trowa was racking his brain as to what to say. "So, why didn't you bring your violin? I thought you always traveled with it."
Quatre merely sighed. Trowa wanted to scream in frustration. First Heero and now Quatre. //Wait, Heero was withdrawn because of Duo. Maybe Quatre's acting so indifferent because of me. That must be it. He thinks I don't return his feelings.//
Trowa got up and went to kneel in front of Quatre's chair, he took one of Quatre's hands into his own. This appeared to alarm the blonde boy, who looked down at him almost in fright. "Quatre, you know if you want to tell me something you can. I'll never be upset with you no matter what it is." Trowa looked up at him, trying to let his real message come through his eyes. It didn't matter how much he wanted to grab the Arabian, and yell his declarations of love. Something within wouldn't allow him to. So he tried to express it with his eyes. And had Quatre been looking, he would have seen it. But he wasn't, he refused to.
Quatre pulled his hand free, and stood. Trowa rose from the floor, too. The brown haired boy took hold of him and forced the blonde's eyes to find his. Trowa released all his pent up longing, and love into his gaze. Quatre panicked and tried to wrench himself free. His struggles caught Trowa off guard, and he quickly let go, causing Quatre to fall to the ground. The Arabian winced as his bruised skin hit the floor. He had no urge to even try and get up. Quatre just curled himself into a ball, and prepared for the pain. Inside his mind was warring with itself. //Brace yourself, you know what's coming. No, it's Trowa, he wouldn't do that. Sure, neither would Wufei, right?//
Trowa watched, agasp as his love just laid there on the carpet, curled up and whimpering like a beaten dog. He leaned down to help him up. Quatre flinched visibly at his touch. Trowa sat back, completely stunned. Meanwhile Quatre was ready for the pain he was expecting. When none came he cracked open an eye. He saw Trowa staring at him in complete shock. Realizing his chance for escape, he willed his aching muscles to lift him up. Once Quatre was back on his feet, he started for the door.
"Quatre!"
Quatre paused at the door. //Please Trowa let it go. Just let it go. Don't you see, this is what I have become.//
Trowa saw Quatre stiffen when he called his name. The tall pilot was being torn apart inside. //What just happened?// He had no idea how to handle the situation. So he decided he'd use the same methods he used with Heero. "Quatre, promise me that if you need to talk you'll come to me. About anything."
"Sure, Trowa," he said flatly, without ever looking back.
Then Quatre fled the room, leaving Trowa sitting dazed on the ground. His racing pulse was matched only by his racing thoughts. //I just wanted to touch him, to show him my feelings. And then he freaked out. Was I wrong? Does he not feel the same about me? And why did he ball up on the floor like that? Did he think I'd hit him? What am I missing?// And then Trowa felt a little piece of his heart break off as he recalled Quatre's departing words. For he knew it was the first time the blonde had ever lied to him.
Meanwhile Quatre ran out of the room, and out the front door. He didn't care about Wufei's rules anymore. Truthfully, part of him wished the Chinese boy would find him, and put an end to his suffering. He ran until he was out of breath, and had to collapse under the shelter of a tree. He couldn't see the house anymore, that was good. That meant Trowa wouldn't find him for a while. //If he even bothers to look. That was really cute back there, you playing the twitching nut case. What if Wufei had come in, and seen that? What then genius?//
Quatre pulled his knees to his chest, and buried his face in the folds of his pants. He tried to block out Trowa's face, the beauty of his eyes. They way their green depths were filled with love, and trust. How they shimmered so pure. He was way past crying, it offered no comfort. Now the only relief he got was the running commentary he had in his head. It always told him the same things, too. That he was defenseless, and stupid, and he deserved his fate. Quatre couldn't remember when had stopped arguing with it, and began believing it.
His mind began to replay the last few minutes, and of course reiterated everything he had done wrong. //You should have left when he first came in. But no, you wanted to sit there with him. I guess Wufei was right about that slut thing. One guy's not good enough for you? And then you practically let him paw you, right there.// Quatre wanted to disagree, to convince himself Trowa was just trying to be a friend. //Sure, all he wants is friendship. What are you, completely dense? Gods, you are so stupid. Trowa probably already knows about Wufei, he can smell him on you.//
That hit a nerve with Quatre. It seemed that no matter how many dozens of showers he took, he couldn't get Wufei's smell off his skin. Like the boy's musk had permeated into all of his pores. And everywhere he went, Quatre was sure that everyone around him could smell it too. The cloying odor that constantly filled his nostrils. //Trowa can smell that on you. He can detect its scent all over your body. And he knows. He looks at you, and he can see all the things you and Wufei did. All he had to do was look at you, and he saw every little detail. That look in his eyes, it wasn't love you fool, it was pity, or maybe it was smugness. He thought you had finally gotten your comeuppance.//
Quatre's squeezed his eyes shut, as if it would shut that voice up. No, Trowa didn't think he deserved that. But the more he said that, the more the look he remembered in Trowa's eyes turned from love, into loathing. Until eventually he surrendered to his mind's version of the events. That all Trowa could ever want was his body, if he could stand it, now that Wufei was using it. And that his eyes had been full of contempt, and not affection. Once he waived to that hateful inner voice, he felt tired. Like his mind had taken all of his energy, as it had taken control. But he had no desire to return to the house. All that waited was Trowa, and his detestable glares.
So he figured he'd check on Sandrock. He hadn't worked on his beloved Gundam in months. He hadn't even seen it the entire time he'd been in the last safehouse. And if Trowa was offering help, it must be bad. //Yeah, Trowa really wanted to help with Sandrock. He probably wanted to get you alone, so you'd spread him. But after seeing your body, he'd run in the other direction.// Quatre sighed, and lifted himself up, and let the voice continue with it's tirade. It was easier then dealing with it. He tried to pinpoint exactly which direction he had come from, so he knew which way to walk.
After he got his bearings, Quatre began walking toward where Sandrock, and the others were stored. It wasn't very far from his current location. As he walked he felt a strong breeze blow through the trees. It shook their branches, making them creak and groan. //It sounds like something out of a scary movie.// He closed his eyes. //I can almost believe that something really ominous is about to happen.//
But as he waited, nothing did.
So he continued along. The mechas were due north of the cabin, and he had run north west. So according to his calculations, if he walked east, he'd run right into them. Which he did about twenty minutes later. He exited the clearing and saw that Wufei was already there.
Wufei looked up from repairing a dented section of Shenlong's leg. He looked at Quatre with undisguised hate, before bestowing upon him a vulterous smile. "Hello Quatre, *darling*. Did you miss me?" he asked scornfully.
Quatre bowed his head. Wufei smiled with pure pleasure at that. He sidled up to Quatre, and pulled the unresisting boy into his arms. He twisted Quatre's arm painfully behind his back. Quatre cried out, at the pain, and the chafing of his sore flesh.
Wufei chuckled in his ear. "What's the matter? Couldn't wait to be alone with me? You are the eager one. Well, I never was one to refuse an offer, especially from one as skilled as yourself."
He released Quatre's arm, and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. Once the Arabian's chest was bared he threw him to the ground. Then Wufei climbed on top of him. He ran his hands over the expanse of Quatre's chest, streaking it with the grease on his fingers. Then they roamed down to the button of his pants. Quatre stared at the trees above him. The way the wind was blowing between them made them come to life. Their branches swayed in greeting to each other. And their boughs spoke in an ancient language. They whispered the secrets of the forest to one another in a private dialect, understood only by them.
* * *
Back at the house Trowa shivered, as a feeling of dread overcame him. He could sense that Quatre was in trouble. He headed for the door, intent to find the blonde boy before harm did. Just as he reached it, an ear splitting scream sounded from the bedroom. He paused, unsure of which needed his help more. Heero, whose terror he could plainly hear, or Quatre, whose he might have only imagined. Another scream came from the back, and still Trowa hesitated. He reached his hand out to turn the knob. Quatre. Quatre needed him. But then Heero started wailing with such intensity, that his hand fell to his side, and he proceeded to the back room.
Heero was thrashing violently on the bed, consumed by his nightmare. It was Duo, screaming to him for help. He was being touched all over, forced to endure this stranger's hands on him. Only it wasn't a stranger it was... who was that? Heero knew him. He begged his brain to make the connection. And now it wasn't Duo, it was Quatre. Duo was gone, in his place was the blonde. But Duo hadn't left, he came to Heero's side, and tried to pull him to Quatre's aid. And the guy, his face was a blur, but Heero recognized, there was something so familiar.. and then Duo and Quatre were screaming for his help, but he didn't understand, and the trees closed between them, cutting him from the scene. If only he could place the guy.. he was the key...
Then Heero felt someone shaking him, and still tangled in the dream's web, he reflexively struck out. Trowa had been bending over Heero, trying to wake him, when the Japanese boy's fist swung out, and hit him square in the jaw. The taller boy, caught unaware, crashed to the floor. Hearing that thud, Heero sat straight up, and looked for its source. He found Trowa sitting on the floor, rubbing his face, which was already beginning to bruise. He would have liked to punch Heero back, but one look at the unmasked fright etched on his face, and all was forgiven. Heero was dripping sweat. The sheets were soaked with it, as were his clothes.
Trowa got him a towel from the bathroom, to dry his face. Heero took it from him with shaky hands that scarcely grip it. Seeing him quivering, chilled Trowa to the bone. He had to know. "Heero?"
Prussian eyes filled with unspeakable horrors met his.
"The dream. What was it about?"
Heero closed his eyes, as it flashed before him. This wasn't like the others, it was more real than any previous ones. It was more like a vision, a prophecy, than a dream. "It was Duo, then Quatre, and this guy. I can't see him, but I swear I know him. And somehow he's the center of it all. Always the same guy, but I don't get the connection."
* * *
In the woods, Wufei was nearing his climax. He was thrusting in roughly, and frantically. The Arabian's slender body was rocking with the force of Wufei's motions. Quatre's legs were thrown over his shoulders, and as he leaned over to bite the soft flesh of his shoulder, Quatre's knees pressed onto his chest. This allowed Wufei full penetration, and it was all he needed. He plunged in one final time, while sinking his teeth into that fair skin. He came inside Quatre, mixing his seed with the grease coating the blonde's passage.
For once Wufei had prepared him. He didn't want the others to get suspicious, and they would if Quatre came back covered in blood. He pulled out, and dressed himself. Leaving Quatre, bare chested, and stripped from the waist down. Lying forsaken on the dirt, under the watchful eye of Nataku. Quatre was still concentrating on the trees overhead. The day's light was dwindling, but he could still see their tops oscillating in the sky. They creaked and groaned as they swayed. //It sounds like something out of a scary movie.// He closed his eyes. //I can almost believe that something really ominous is about to happen.//
* * *
It was rapidly getting darker, so Wufei decided they had better head back. He waited impatiently for Quatre to get dressed. The blonde pulled on his pants, and buttoned his shirt, not noticing, or caring how soiled they had become. The entire back of his shirt was stained with dirt, as were his pants. He just clothed himself systematically, and followed Wufei into the woods. The winds had picked up, and the trees voiced their protests. The rasping cries of the limbs and the howling wind seemed to want to warn the two of the dangers of the forest.
Quatre looked at them dolefully. //Too late. I've seen the true horror of the forest. No beast of nature could come close to him.// Wufei walked quickly, not concerned if Quatre kept up or not. They reached the safehouse as darkness descended onto the woods. Trowa came to the door as they entered, glad to see Quatre appeared safe. He searched the blonde's face for any clues as to his earlier episode, but his face was blank. An expression Trowa was hauntingly familiar with, for it was the one he usually wore.
He was so focused on Quatre that he missed the cautionary glare Wufei was sending to the blonde. Quatre didn't, and he obediently rested his eyes on the floor. Satisfied, Wufei set off for the bedroom to check for any updates. Trowa stood there patiently waiting for Quatre to look at him. It became obvious the Arabian wasn't going to, in fact Quatre started to walk away.
Trowa grabbed his sleeve, dismayed to see it was covered with dirt. "Quatre, about earlier..."
Quatre shook his head, "Not now."
"Don't you think we need to talk about what happened?"
Quatre looked at the fingers clasping his sleeve, then to their owner. Their eyes met, and for a brief second Trowa thought he saw regret in those blue-green orbs. But it was gone so fast he figured he had imagined it. "Let go Trowa. Just... let go."
Trowa released the garment, and Quatre wearily walked away. Trowa watched him leave with a dull ache in his chest. //Why do I feel like he was talking about more than the shirt?//
The tall pilot returned to the living room, where Heero had taken up residence. The bed had offered no means of elevation for his injured leg, so he had taken over the couch. Where he could at least prop his leg up on the arm. Trowa sank into Quatre's chair with a defeated sigh. He put his face into his hands.
Heero looked over at him with interest. "How is he?"
"I don't know," came the muffled reply. Trowa looked up, "He refused to talk to me."
Heero grunted in frustration, and tried to sit up. "Don't you think you should try?"
Trowa waved his hands helplessly in the air. "I did. He just said not now, and then told me to let go."
"To let go?"
"Yes, I was holding his shirt... But.. it felt like he meant more than that."
They both sat in silent contemplation for a while. After that strange dream, Heero had demanded to know if Trowa had spoken to Quatre yet. Trowa had told him yes, sort of. And then Trowa had filled in Heero of Quatre's actions before. So, the two of them were attempting to unravel the mystery that was the blonde boy's behavior. But neither of them could come to a logical solution as to what would cause him to be changed so severely.
Heero grunted in frustration, causing Trowa to snap out of his reflections. The Japanese studied him for a second, then closed his eyes, and lowered himself back down. Heero spoke lowly, almost inaudibly. "The only one who can resolve this is Quatre. He is the only one who knows what caused it. "But," he said, opening his eyes to stare at Trowa, "you're the only one who will be able to get him to."
"But, Heero, I tried... and he wouldn't..."
"You call two attempts trying?" Heero narrowed his eyes, "that's pathetic."
Trowa stood, and started pacing the length of the room. "What makes you think he'll open up to *me*?"
A wry smile pulled at Heero's mouth. "Because he loves you." Then Heero quieted and he looked at Trowa with anguish evident in his blue eyes. "Let's just hope that's enough. "Then the dark haired boy closed his eyes, and made an endeavor to sleep. Leaving Trowa alone with his turmoil.
* * *
As the two boys were talking, Wufei was in the empty bedroom checking his computer. He wasn't worried about Quatre doing anything while he was back here. He knew the warning he had sent was taken seriously. The blonde wouldn't dare defy him. Not when they were in such close proximity. And he had already reprimanded Quatre previously, before the others had arrived. His eyes glittered in remembrance. Wufei had taken the boy in the shower, where he was free to be as rough as he chose. And he had been exceptionally harsh.
Perhaps it was knowing that it would be their last time alone for some time, or maybe just because he was feeling particularly brutal. But seeing Quatre so defenseless, so submissive had made him lose control. Not even Duo had gotten him that hot. But of course Duo always had that impudent mouth of his. And no amount of punishment could rid him of it. By the time he was done, blood was running freely off the Arabian. But the water would rinse away the blood without a trace. Wufei smiled barbarously. That had been the most beautiful sight he had seen, Quatre bleeding and humbled before him. And to know that it was he who had done it!
Today in the woods had been fun, too. Risky, but enjoyable. A very unexpected, but pleasant surprise. It would teach Quatre to obey him in the future. Wufei had been furious to see the blonde had left the house. Although, perhaps it was for the better. Wufei didn't trust Barton, as far as he could throw him. But if push came to shove he'd kill the other if necessary. Nothing came between him, and his toys. He had intended to kill Heero, when he found out about him and Duo. But the braided boy had altered his plans.
It was helpful though, it had led him to his new plaything. Although he'd had his eye on Quatre for a while. But Wufei hoped it wouldn't come to violence. He had more interesting plans for the reticent, green eyed boy. He returned his concentration to the laptop's screen and cursed aloud. Damn. A mission for him. He leapt up, with the purpose of smashing his fist through the wall. He forced himself to calm down. It wouldn't do for the others to get suspicious. Not now, when he had finally just broken in his little bauble.
He stormed back to the offending machine, and typed in his acceptation of the job. He shut it down, and grabbed a flashlight and jacket. All the while swearing to himself. //Damn. Damn. Just when I bend my little trinket to my will, I have to leave. And with Barton here... Damn. I guess that little frolic in the woods was a good idea after all. At least he won't soon forget me.// Wufei felt somewhat relieved. //No, Quatre won't soon forget that. I'll just have to hurry. Don't want him to get any ideas into his head. And with Barton here.. No, it won't matter anymore. He's too far gone. Not even his precious Trowa can restore him.// Feeling confident, he chuckled to himself, and left the bedroom.
He passed the living room, where Heero was sleeping, and Trowa seemed to be immersed in thought. "Mission," Wufei grunted as he went by.
Trowa nodded to show he'd heard. Wufei cursed him in his head. And with that he left. He was somewhat pissed that he hadn't been able to check on Quatre before he departed, but it couldn't be helped now. He made his way through the woods, to where Nataku waited.
Trowa's thoughts had been interrupted by Wufei's hasty exit. And he found he no longer had the energy to concentrate on them. He decided he'd get a good night's sleep, and begin fresh in the morning. He checked to make sure Heero was comfortable before he left. The banged pilot covered him with a tattered blanket. Then he roamed the house looking for Quatre. He found him asleep in the dining room. He was sitting in one of the chairs with his head resting on the table. His blonde locks spread around him, a few stray pieces hanging over his face.
Trowa stood in the doorway admiring his simple beauty. And Trowa realized that with Quatre it wasn't just his features that made him so stunning. It was the aura he seemed to have about him. A radiance that shone from the inside, and put physical beauty to shame. An aureole around his being that was currently missing. One that Trowa was resolute on reclaiming. He went to the sleeping figure, and scooped him up into his arms. He was astonished at how light Quatre was. The boy was all skin and bones.
Trowa was also amazed at just how right it felt to carry Quatre in his arms. Like he was meant to do it. He snuggled Quatre closer, and nuzzled his face into that blonde hair. He inhaled the smell, committing it to memory. The banged pilot transported Quatre from the dining room, to the bedroom. He settled the slender frame on the bed, and pulled the shabby covers over him.
He had debated on whether or not to undress the blonde, but felt it better not to. Quatre had already been out of sorts lately, and Trowa didn't want to make him any more uncomfortable. So he merely removed the Arabian's socks and shoes, before tucking him in. That left him with the question as to where he was going to sleep. He looked down at the slumbering form on the bed. Well.. it wasn't like they hadn't shared a bed before. But, how would Quatre react?
Trowa struggled with that for a minute, before his longing to be curled up next to his love took over. He wanted to be near Quatre, no matter how, even if it was just platonic. So his craving outweighed his consciousness, and he slipped in next to his beloved without another thought. He could feel the warmth coming from Quatre, and Trowa yearned to wrap himself around him. But he kept a safe distance between them. And as sleep claimed him, he felt more fulfilled then he had in a long time.
* * *
The sun arose with all it's splendor, and chased away the darkness of the night; letting only the shadows remain. It crept in the windows of the safehouse, informing the occupants of it's presence. And with that light came the awareness that all good things must come to an end. It pricked at Trowa's eyes, coercing them into opening. And with much reluctance, he did. He was taken aback to see that at some point in the night he had wound himself around Quatre. The blonde was firmly enveloped in his arms.
He was more surprised to find that he couldn't will his limbs to move. The moment just felt to perfect to spoil. His Quatre lying here, wrapped in his arms. Trowa wouldn't have moved if his life had depended on it. All too soon he felt Quatre stirring, and blue-green eyes opened to look at him. The first thing Quatre saw were emerald eyes gazing at him. Quatre was sure this must be some heavenly dream he was having. To wake up in Trowa's embrace could be nothing less.
The Arabian reached up and ran his fingers down Trowa's cheek, thumbing the bruise that had formed. It was so real, he begged that this phantasm would never end. The fantasy Trowa stroked his own cheek in response. And then Quatre's vision leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. When he pulled back Quatre's fingers traced the spot they vacated in wonder. Taking that as a good sign, illusionary Trowa did it again. Tenderly he touched their lips together. Only now, he let his tongue slide out, and brush against Quatre's mouth.
"Am I intruding?" came a voice from the doorway.
And then Quatre's dream world exploded, and he was cast into a hellish nightmare. But a nightmare would be preferable to this. Because no nightmare could equal hell on earth. The blonde looked over to see a very real Wufei standing in the doorway. Trowa looked up at Wufei, annoyance plain on his face.
"Yes," the tall boy said curtly.
Trowa saw the dread on Quatre's face, and assumed he was embarrassed by being caught. He ran his fingers across Quatre's soft lips. Then he bent down and whispered into his ear. "Don't worry little one, he'll get over it."
Then Trowa kissed his ear, and cupped Quatre's face in his hands. After catching those blue-green orbs for a second, he unwillingly let go. He could sense Quatre's nervousness in front of Wufei. He soothingly caressed Quatre's cheek, and looked straight into those eyes.
"I love you, Quatre," he breathed.
He heard Wufei hiss behind him. Figuring he had flustered Quatre enough, he got out of bed. He grabbed Quatre's hand, and pressed a light kiss to the palm, before padding to the door. At the doorway Trowa turned and gave Quatre a small smile. Then he left to check on Heero, thinking all was well.
Quatre had been watching Wufei almost entirely since he'd entered. He knew the Chinese boy would never get over it. And he cringed at the anguish, and torture those black eyes were promising. Those inky orbs had been growing steadily larger at each thing Trowa said, until they had become the size of saucers. And they were reflecting hate, and rage, and guaranteeing agony, torment, and murder. The black haired boy glared at him and shook his head. Then all the life went out of his eyes, making them look shark like. Flat, and dead, and hungry for blood. Then he balled his fists up, as he approached the bed.
"Oh, Quatre. You've been a naughty boy."
~~~~~
tbc. |