Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Autumn Coffee ❯ Palm Trees ( Chapter 5 )

Title: Palm Trees

Author: Kiarene

Pairings: 3x4, 5x13

Rating: G

Summary: Quatre thinks.

Published: 14 July 2005

Disclaimer: You know the drill

 

Note: For some odd reason, I started the Autumn Coffee AU from Quatre' POV, then switched over to third person for the other pilots. For some other odd reason, I've been keeping to that even though I think it's not too consistent. Still, first person works for this chapter. Sorry about any confusion.

 

 

Palm Trees

 

 

I flipped my cell phone close, trying to ignore the lump in my throat. I could still hear Trowa's latest message.

 

“Please come back, Quatre.”

 

I had never heard this …*broken* tone from him before.

 

“I'm …sorry. I have been an asshole. I don't know what to say… what I can say or *do* to make you realize that I…” And his voice cracked, almost crying. “Quatre, please. I know I don't deserve it but… just give me another chance.”

 

I placed my phone down on the plastic table beside me and leaned back on the white plastic lounge chair. The soft swishing of the surf and rustling of the palm trees shading me did nothing to calm the turbulent emotions within me. My overly large sunglasses slid down my nose bridge and I pushed them up again.

 

“Please…”

 

As far as I could remember, Trowa has never pleaded. Never begged.

 

“I miss you so much, Quat.”

 

He is always the strong one, the stoic one, while I'm usually the sensitive one. The one who cried. My eyes stung.

 

It hurt. I don't hate Trowa, I could never hate him. I didn't leave because I hate him or because I want him to suffer. I never wanted him to hurt.

 

Though the air was warm and humid, a delightful breeze from the sea and the trees kept me from overheating. Still, a fine sheen of sweat covered my back, which stuck uncomfortably to the plastic lounge chair. Turning slightly to my side, I sighed at the cool relief.

 

Lying on my side, I could see Duo having fun, his braid swinging as he bounced energetically around in the sand, still as nimble and acrobatic as he had been in his youth. The spectators in the beach volleyball match cheered as he scored another point with a well-placed spike. Where does he find the energy? I grew up in a desert so I am comfortable with the heat, but I'd always been taught to avoid the worst of the sun and relax during the hottest parts of the day. It became a habit.

 

Leaving had been a good idea. Actually, I knew I should have left a long time ago. So that was not the problem.

 

We've been crisscrossing Asia for the past month — the latest being one of the many little-known beaches in tropical Thailand. We've taken small domestic flights and coaches, taxis and trains, even a tuk-tuk yesterday; such modes of transport didn't require us to leave any sort of identification, unlike international flights. And contrary to popular belief, it was fairly easy to run a large international corporation — it's so large that it ran itself, with numerous regional managers and, below them, divisions managers taking care of the details. So far, I had only needed to call in personally a few times, but by then, Duo and I would have left by the following day. It would take Trowa quite some time before he would be able to track us here, and we would be long gone by then. If I still wanted to go.

 

Therein lay my problem.

 

I *was* unhappy. I *needed* to get away. Our relationship is abusive and poisonous, any love we might had would have been slowly faded away. So I left.

 

But, I still am not happy. If anything, I am even more miserable.

 

My eyes flickered to my phone again. Trowa had called me every day, just once a day, but he has never missed a day. I never picked up but he always left a message on my voicemail, pleading for me to forgive me.

 

To go home.

 

I looked at Duo again, torn. Duo had broken up with Heero last year; an `official' breakup with Heero removing what little of his own possessions from Duo's apartment, but they have been steadily drifting apart since the war ended. Heero had duties on Earth; Duo chose to stay on L2. It had only been a matter of time.

 

Duo hadn't missed Heero at all, and Heero hadn't tried to contact him. I have no doubt Heero knew Duo was no longer on L2 — he's scary like that — but he probably didn't care. For Duo, all he needed was a change of pace, an abrupt change of environment to jar him out of his apathetic state. For Duo, this trip is a vacation; for me, the painful breakup of the only romantic relationship I have ever had.

 

Duo is happy.

 

I am not.

 

Closing my eyes with a sigh, I thought about Duo's advice. About going out, about trying again. After all, Trowa was my only boyfriend. What do I know?

 

…I knew that the couple of times Duo has tried to set me up with another guy, usually in a group date with him, always ended up in a disaster. I couldn't stop thinking about Trowa.

 

Then I thought about it. About picking up the phone and calling him. About going back, about trying again.

 

“Please come back, Quatre.”

 

I picked up my phone.

 

~*~