Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Dream of Me ❯ Confrontations ( Chapter 7 )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: Moon Star 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): / Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.24.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.2K | Visits: 197 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): / Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.24.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.2K | Visits: 197 | Status: Completed
MS
I really hope this doesn't come late.
Disclaimer : I don't own any of the characters used in GW.
Dream of Me
Chapter 7 : Confrontations
Her steps seemed to condemn her as she walked toward the library. Heero stood behind her, observing her in the uncanny way that made her shrivel. He had such an effect on people.
Standing before the large oak door only made her wince. How could she just walk in there and try to put to rights the wrong that she had done in the past.
He wasn't just a body that stood in the library of all the people that she had to walk over to support herself, he was a face that always haunted her. In mornings, in nights, in dreams. He had always beckoned her, and now that he was finally there, she couldn't even open a damn door.
Someone cleared their throats behind her, making her wince. She couldn’t just stare at a door all day. Not only did she have to put a past to rights, but they all had to catch a plane that would stay there for them, but she had to hurry not to miss.
She placed a hand on the door and let it swung toward the inside. She placed a foot in front of the other and walked toward the middle, the door closing with the push she made.
"Hello Midii," the greeting was a shadowed tone that didn't reveal a person in sight.
Taking a deep breath to will some air into her lungs, Midii responded, "Hello, Nanashi." A beat passed before she could pinpoint the breathing that accompanied the voice. She turned, her eyes downcast as she corrected, "Trowa."
His own steps sounded as pangs in her conscience. Taking courage, she looked up only to be drowned by his eyes. How could she not fall.
"Look up," his voice felt as a caress. She was startled of the firmness and command held. She didn't know which prompted her to comply, but she looked up. Not just to his eyes, but to his whole face.
The reality hit her like a stone wall. He was in full glory to her conjuring heart. It beat loudly, drowning any other thoughts or comment that should hold her attention.
"Nanashi."
She backed up to a sit and plumped down. She didn't know what was to come but she had to be ready for anything. She was sure that she would be able to take anything better if she was sitting down. She should have known better than to move away. The images of that long night before sprung to her mind.
He quickly followed, not leaving her any breathing room that she was sure to need.
"Midii," her name came from him once again. It shook her from her reverie with the past. He was directly in her line of vision.
Her hand came from her side and settled at his jaw. Her eyes glowing with an emotion she couldn't place too quickly, it might have been relief. She traced the line of his jaw, her eyes keeping up with her fingers.
Suddenly, both of her hands were at his face. Each one exploring a part in wonder and gentleness. The tears sprung and a cry left her throat.
His hands were held at his side. He felt like a statue being molded by her hands, each taut muscle of his face in attention to her inspection. He felt her eagerness, her fingertips like kisses.
She slid from her seat to the floor right beside him. His arms sprang to catch her before she fell but they came too late, she was already in his arms.
Her heat filtered through his clothing toward him. He felt part of a puzzle, whose last piece had just been inserted. He closed his arms in, he wasn't going to give her the chance to run away from him like he had done those years before.
Such apologies that had to be spoken weren't necessary at the moment. The tears and silent regrets that mingled with his tenderness filled the room with the emotion that held many powerful secrets.
Her tears went through his skin at his throat and rolled toward his torso getting caught on his shirt. She pulled back at a moment to look at him once again before collapsing toward him once again.
"I never thought this would be possible," he said to her ear, each word reviving her from her emotions. "I've had so many regrets to let you slip again."
Her silence accompanied his words. He felt giddied. It wasn't much but knowing that she was safe, had been alright for those years he hadn't been there, that he couldn't think of anything else to say.
"I'm sorry," she murmured as she pulled her head away from his shoulder. Her face was in pieces from the crying, but she still looked like the angel that had broken into his life years before.
He just noticed how beautiful she was.
His hand brushed with her cheeks, his fingertips slipping away the trails of tears she had shed just minutes before. His fingers rolled from the side of her cheek toward her neck. Her skin felt to soft under his hardened hands. He continued tracing, until he felt a press in her skin.
The material looked familiar. He slipped his fingers to clasp them around it and pulled forward.
The mangled cross appeared from its' hidden place.
His eyes searched for the details that he remembered. Then, they searched hers in a silent question. Why would she have kept such a remainder of their past? And why did it mean so much that she had kept their childhood interlude alive with a piece of technology that no longer serve it's purpose?
"I couldn't bare to part with it." Her hand went around it, as if to hide it from his eyes. She knew what memories it must impose on the person that had suffered because of it. He had lost his family, his comrades and what had been left of his child trust in the world.
It was true that both had been in different stages in their lives. He had known more about some things than she had and vice versa. Still, it only reminded her of the care she had received and the love that had come at such early age.
"I'm sorry," it seemed more appropriate that she say it now. But how could she really make up for it?
"There's nothing to be sorry for," his hand covered hers on the cross, his eyes felt like flames when they centered at his face. "It was both our faults as it was of our circumstances Midii. I had much to blame for what happened."
"For trusting me," her eyes were downcast, but she knew that the truth was in between them.
"No!" He forcefully stated. "I was to blame for thinking you were more than I. You were just a child."
"Yes," she accepted that. "But a child who knew that she was inflicting hurt, killing lives."
"You wouldn't have been able to stop it." He took her hand in his and placed a kiss at her knuckles. "If it hadn't been you, it would have been another person in between us and life." He framed her face in his hands. "I'm glad it was you."
She caught her bottom lip in her teeth. His words were sincere to her ears. She knew that what he said was what he believed was the truth. How could he forget the sorrow?
"How could you?" Her anguish was clear at her face. "I haven't been able to forgive myself. I was responsible for the deaths of many. You could have died that day."
"But I didn't."
"You've only seen me for less than an hour in more than five years, what makes you think I am what you think I am."
"Because I can see and read your eyes. These tears," he brushed the new wave from his fingers. "They are real and mean a lot to what I know and feel. They could not lie to me."
"Nana.. Trowa," she corrected quickly. "Why?"
The question hung in the air. How could he explain? Maybe going to the truth would be best in the circumstances.
"I've found myself thinking a lot about you in the past days. You might have been in my thoughts for weeks without me realizing it though. I've thought of our last encounter and found the crucial part of the matter, at least to me. You were no more than a child, as so was I. You made decisions of grown people, and so did I. That might be what got to us. We were too young to know much of the differences in some gray areas of life in which tragedies have to take place."
Trowa smiled as he felt her shiver when he placed his hand over hers, where it rested on the floor.
"I loved you in my own way. In the way a child could love another person. I was too young to realize the mistakes I made in life, but time is all you have left when you have nothing to fill it up with. I've learned better than to accept the black and white side of life, they are what bring you heartache."
He leaned forward, his forehead in contact with hers.
"I understand better, and time has slipped with me regretting leaving you that day. I didn't know if you were dead or alive after that. If I hadn't pushed you away at that hour, we could have formed a better relationship than those of two kids who found each other at the other side of the fence. I could have protected you from hardships and you could have been my conscience."
"You never needed one," she replied to his statement. "You have always known what you want, need and should do. I've envied that."
"You are something that I needed." He brushed his lips on her face in a brotherly kiss. "I knew it, and that scared me. Still does, this depending on a petite blond girl who I was sure I would brake in two if I pushed."
"I loved you as a child could have loved for another child." Her voice trembled somewhat. "That was pure," her free hand came to her cross. "This is the only token of the purity of those years that I had experienced."
Time passed, both smiled, both laughed, both remained in silence.
"We'll have to face them sooner or later." Trowa broke from his seat. He stood up, offered a hand and pulled her up.
"You mean face Relena," corrected Midii.
"True," both smiled. They were starting once again.
"There's no rebel group in the middle this time Midii," Trowa took her hand and walked with her toward the door.
"I won't run this time, friend."
"Good," his fingers played with her palm as they stopped before the closed doorway. He leaned down, and connected his lips with hers. The small contact shoot her nerve endings and put her heart in speed dial. He lifted his face with a better smile. "Because this time there won't be a cross between us."
He opened the door and strode out before her.
There was a trip to go to, but she couldn't move.
Why was her heart beating so irrationally?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We're not even going to comment. It's been over a half a year and we have no excuses. Rewrites are hell.
Wait for the next one. It'll come eventually...
MS
I really hope this doesn't come late.
Disclaimer : I don't own any of the characters used in GW.
Dream of Me
Chapter 7 : Confrontations
Her steps seemed to condemn her as she walked toward the library. Heero stood behind her, observing her in the uncanny way that made her shrivel. He had such an effect on people.
Standing before the large oak door only made her wince. How could she just walk in there and try to put to rights the wrong that she had done in the past.
He wasn't just a body that stood in the library of all the people that she had to walk over to support herself, he was a face that always haunted her. In mornings, in nights, in dreams. He had always beckoned her, and now that he was finally there, she couldn't even open a damn door.
Someone cleared their throats behind her, making her wince. She couldn’t just stare at a door all day. Not only did she have to put a past to rights, but they all had to catch a plane that would stay there for them, but she had to hurry not to miss.
She placed a hand on the door and let it swung toward the inside. She placed a foot in front of the other and walked toward the middle, the door closing with the push she made.
"Hello Midii," the greeting was a shadowed tone that didn't reveal a person in sight.
Taking a deep breath to will some air into her lungs, Midii responded, "Hello, Nanashi." A beat passed before she could pinpoint the breathing that accompanied the voice. She turned, her eyes downcast as she corrected, "Trowa."
His own steps sounded as pangs in her conscience. Taking courage, she looked up only to be drowned by his eyes. How could she not fall.
"Look up," his voice felt as a caress. She was startled of the firmness and command held. She didn't know which prompted her to comply, but she looked up. Not just to his eyes, but to his whole face.
The reality hit her like a stone wall. He was in full glory to her conjuring heart. It beat loudly, drowning any other thoughts or comment that should hold her attention.
"Nanashi."
She backed up to a sit and plumped down. She didn't know what was to come but she had to be ready for anything. She was sure that she would be able to take anything better if she was sitting down. She should have known better than to move away. The images of that long night before sprung to her mind.
He quickly followed, not leaving her any breathing room that she was sure to need.
"Midii," her name came from him once again. It shook her from her reverie with the past. He was directly in her line of vision.
Her hand came from her side and settled at his jaw. Her eyes glowing with an emotion she couldn't place too quickly, it might have been relief. She traced the line of his jaw, her eyes keeping up with her fingers.
Suddenly, both of her hands were at his face. Each one exploring a part in wonder and gentleness. The tears sprung and a cry left her throat.
His hands were held at his side. He felt like a statue being molded by her hands, each taut muscle of his face in attention to her inspection. He felt her eagerness, her fingertips like kisses.
She slid from her seat to the floor right beside him. His arms sprang to catch her before she fell but they came too late, she was already in his arms.
Her heat filtered through his clothing toward him. He felt part of a puzzle, whose last piece had just been inserted. He closed his arms in, he wasn't going to give her the chance to run away from him like he had done those years before.
Such apologies that had to be spoken weren't necessary at the moment. The tears and silent regrets that mingled with his tenderness filled the room with the emotion that held many powerful secrets.
Her tears went through his skin at his throat and rolled toward his torso getting caught on his shirt. She pulled back at a moment to look at him once again before collapsing toward him once again.
"I never thought this would be possible," he said to her ear, each word reviving her from her emotions. "I've had so many regrets to let you slip again."
Her silence accompanied his words. He felt giddied. It wasn't much but knowing that she was safe, had been alright for those years he hadn't been there, that he couldn't think of anything else to say.
"I'm sorry," she murmured as she pulled her head away from his shoulder. Her face was in pieces from the crying, but she still looked like the angel that had broken into his life years before.
He just noticed how beautiful she was.
His hand brushed with her cheeks, his fingertips slipping away the trails of tears she had shed just minutes before. His fingers rolled from the side of her cheek toward her neck. Her skin felt to soft under his hardened hands. He continued tracing, until he felt a press in her skin.
The material looked familiar. He slipped his fingers to clasp them around it and pulled forward.
The mangled cross appeared from its' hidden place.
His eyes searched for the details that he remembered. Then, they searched hers in a silent question. Why would she have kept such a remainder of their past? And why did it mean so much that she had kept their childhood interlude alive with a piece of technology that no longer serve it's purpose?
"I couldn't bare to part with it." Her hand went around it, as if to hide it from his eyes. She knew what memories it must impose on the person that had suffered because of it. He had lost his family, his comrades and what had been left of his child trust in the world.
It was true that both had been in different stages in their lives. He had known more about some things than she had and vice versa. Still, it only reminded her of the care she had received and the love that had come at such early age.
"I'm sorry," it seemed more appropriate that she say it now. But how could she really make up for it?
"There's nothing to be sorry for," his hand covered hers on the cross, his eyes felt like flames when they centered at his face. "It was both our faults as it was of our circumstances Midii. I had much to blame for what happened."
"For trusting me," her eyes were downcast, but she knew that the truth was in between them.
"No!" He forcefully stated. "I was to blame for thinking you were more than I. You were just a child."
"Yes," she accepted that. "But a child who knew that she was inflicting hurt, killing lives."
"You wouldn't have been able to stop it." He took her hand in his and placed a kiss at her knuckles. "If it hadn't been you, it would have been another person in between us and life." He framed her face in his hands. "I'm glad it was you."
She caught her bottom lip in her teeth. His words were sincere to her ears. She knew that what he said was what he believed was the truth. How could he forget the sorrow?
"How could you?" Her anguish was clear at her face. "I haven't been able to forgive myself. I was responsible for the deaths of many. You could have died that day."
"But I didn't."
"You've only seen me for less than an hour in more than five years, what makes you think I am what you think I am."
"Because I can see and read your eyes. These tears," he brushed the new wave from his fingers. "They are real and mean a lot to what I know and feel. They could not lie to me."
"Nana.. Trowa," she corrected quickly. "Why?"
The question hung in the air. How could he explain? Maybe going to the truth would be best in the circumstances.
"I've found myself thinking a lot about you in the past days. You might have been in my thoughts for weeks without me realizing it though. I've thought of our last encounter and found the crucial part of the matter, at least to me. You were no more than a child, as so was I. You made decisions of grown people, and so did I. That might be what got to us. We were too young to know much of the differences in some gray areas of life in which tragedies have to take place."
Trowa smiled as he felt her shiver when he placed his hand over hers, where it rested on the floor.
"I loved you in my own way. In the way a child could love another person. I was too young to realize the mistakes I made in life, but time is all you have left when you have nothing to fill it up with. I've learned better than to accept the black and white side of life, they are what bring you heartache."
He leaned forward, his forehead in contact with hers.
"I understand better, and time has slipped with me regretting leaving you that day. I didn't know if you were dead or alive after that. If I hadn't pushed you away at that hour, we could have formed a better relationship than those of two kids who found each other at the other side of the fence. I could have protected you from hardships and you could have been my conscience."
"You never needed one," she replied to his statement. "You have always known what you want, need and should do. I've envied that."
"You are something that I needed." He brushed his lips on her face in a brotherly kiss. "I knew it, and that scared me. Still does, this depending on a petite blond girl who I was sure I would brake in two if I pushed."
"I loved you as a child could have loved for another child." Her voice trembled somewhat. "That was pure," her free hand came to her cross. "This is the only token of the purity of those years that I had experienced."
Time passed, both smiled, both laughed, both remained in silence.
"We'll have to face them sooner or later." Trowa broke from his seat. He stood up, offered a hand and pulled her up.
"You mean face Relena," corrected Midii.
"True," both smiled. They were starting once again.
"There's no rebel group in the middle this time Midii," Trowa took her hand and walked with her toward the door.
"I won't run this time, friend."
"Good," his fingers played with her palm as they stopped before the closed doorway. He leaned down, and connected his lips with hers. The small contact shoot her nerve endings and put her heart in speed dial. He lifted his face with a better smile. "Because this time there won't be a cross between us."
He opened the door and strode out before her.
There was a trip to go to, but she couldn't move.
Why was her heart beating so irrationally?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We're not even going to comment. It's been over a half a year and we have no excuses. Rewrites are hell.
Wait for the next one. It'll come eventually...
MS