Last Goodbye

Chapter 2

By zapenstap

It was a warm evening in June, the kind where going outdoors is like walking into a garden, when the air is sweet and thick but not muggy, and comfortably cool compared to the day. It was a perfect night for a party, for dancing and food and festivities, and it was held at the Peacecraft manor.

Relena's brother had invited her, though she was a Peacecraft too technically. Still, the house belonged to Milliardo and Peacecraft was the name he went by now, not her. Relena had rooms here when she wanted them, furnished with her things, but she did not consider it her own home. She just happened to be staying with her brother and Noin for a couple of weeks. Thankfully, she was also not the host, nor the guest of honor at this party. Her resulting freedom during such a night was wonderful.

She passed the windows that overlooked the balcony and caught her image in the reflection of the glass. After a full week of work, it was nice to dress up and also to blend in. Her dress was a pale rose color made of satin and hung to the floor, the hem brushing the toes of her heeled shoes. The sleeves were straps because of the season, but the neckline was relatively high and straight across. Though form-fitting, it did not hug her body too tightly. She had threaded pears into her hair and had considered piling it up on top of her head, but had instead left it down. In some ways that made her feel young again, or at least younger, and tonight she liked that.

Men did not think her young. In the last year and a half she had learned that. Though tonight she had been asked to dance several times, and had obliged most of the requests in order to be polite, she still thought mostly about Heero, even though it had been months since he had said goodbye to her that day in the garden. For some reason she could not persuade herself to forget him. He was out there somewhere.

Her reflection looked back at her and she wondered why looking at herself like this was like looking at some strange young girl she hardly knew. That day Heero showed up at her door and told her he loved her she had remembered things about herself she thought she had forgotten. Gingerly she touched her lips with her fingers, feeling their texture and trying to remember the kiss he had given her, the way it had felt to kiss him, to have is face to close to hers, to hear him breathing…

It was just a kiss. It was not a contract. She dropped her hand and stared a moment longer at the glass, looking through her image and at the night sky beyond, watching the stars twinkle in a blanket of black and blue that stretched on forever.

He was gone.

Heero.

It had always been just a name, like a label she used to describe him, and an inadequate one at that. So much more went into him then that name. So much passed through her mind when she saw him. Little things, the way his dark hair looked, the arch of his back and neck, the muscles in his shoulders and chest, his height, the angular dark blue pools of his eyes… all of that described him physically, but there was so much more. His spirit resonated with the way he moved to the glances he gave to the words he spoke to the way she sometimes felt she could perceive his thoughts.

Of course he was just a boy.

It was hard to remember that. He was a boy she loved certainly, and yet, because of that she sometimes felt he was the only boy in the entire world. At least, he was the only one she wanted to get close to, to touch, to speak with about anything (it hardly mattered what) for as long as he would allow it.

"Relena?"

She turned at the sound of her brother's voice. "I'm sorry, Millardo. Were you calling me?"

"No," he said in that gruff voice he sometimes used, and looked away from her, his hair falling over his eyes. "I was just wondering how you were doing."

She smiled and overlapped her hands, gloved up to the elbows in white for so formal an occasion. "I'm quite well. It is a lovely party. Is Noin enjoying herself?"

"She seems to be," he replied. "Why don't you come out on the dance floor, Relena?"

"I will," she promised. "In a moment. I was looking at the stars."

"I'll be in the dining hall for awhile if you need me," he said. "There's a few catering issues that I need to attend to."

She watched him go with a light heart, thinking again how nice it was to be merely a body in a scene such as this, a figure without concern for the condition of the guests or the lighting or the food, nor the center of attention. Casting another glance over her shoulder at the night sky, she wandered back into the main room where couples danced old dances to the soft music played by the band in the corner. She walked along the outside rim of the dance floor, weaving in and out of bodies as she watched the dancing and was occasionally greeted by an acquaintance. Another change of pace was the few people who knew her here. She supposed more must recognize her, but Milliardo's guests were not for the most part the politicians and business people she knew best.

Eventually she came to the edge of the dance floor, the corner of the room where the ballroom and the dining hall met. In the next room there were tables with punch and wine and platters of food. Turning her back to it, she watched the people dancing with pleasure, the way they moved around one another in gracious circles, smiling and perspiring lightly. When the song ended and the couples stepped apart and a few people clapped both on the floor and in the audience. Some people changed partners, others moved off the dance floor and most everyone chatted in the interlude. Smiling, Relena turned away, deciding to investigate this catering problem her brother was having and perhaps have a word with Noin.

A hand clasped her own, strong fingers wrapping around her gloved one gently but firmly. Her mouth opened in surprise and she turned around again only to find another hand settle on her waist and her entire body being led out onto the dance floor.

"Heero," she said in disbelief, staring at him in astonishment.

When the music struck up, she was dancing before she had time to process what had happened. Her left hand was still clasped in his left and her other hand had come up automatically to rest on his shoulder before she met him in the face. When she managed to look into his eyes, she could hardly speak. He wasn't watching her either, his eyes downcast as they moved with the music. His face was as flat as a board. He lifted his head slowly and only smiled slightly after she smiled at him, but something in his face told her he might have been frightened until she did.

Get a hold of yourself, Relena.

"Heero," she said, "I thought I would never see you again."

When they had last danced like this he had been fifteen and a soldier on a dangerous and secret mission. She had been one of his targets. They had never finished that dance. Now he was the same, and yet different. He wasn't innocent, nor was he jaded, and all she could think about to describe him was that he seemed taller, stronger, and older than before. Was he still lost?

He didn't reply to her unspoken questions. Where had he been? Why was he back? Did he still love her? But his eyes captivated her so much the questions could hardly take shape in her mind. Everything he was and did captivated her. Last time he had come they had not touched except for that kiss. He was not wearing gloves. She wished she wasn't either. She had never held his hand before, and always wanted to.

"Heero, what are you doing here?"

"I heard you would be here," he said, and his voice, deep and dark and always seeming to speak to something far away was like a potion. It awoke something fierce and needy and desperate in her. For no reason at all she began to tremble.

Maybe the music changed and the dancing with it. Maybe he noticed or maybe he felt something too, but abruptly she was pulled in closer. Her heart fluttered as it became easier to drape her arm over his and bring her hand up by his neck. His arm tightened around her back too, enclosing her within his personal space. Their left hands remained locked, but drawn in between them. Slowly their faces passed each other until her vision of him became his shoulder and his left ear and his neck, which she could see more of by looking down his collar. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, and yet she felt so calm.

The soft music kept playing, the sound of rippling notes like a harp cascading over her ears. There may have been other couples in the room that drew close, but she didn't look at anyone else. She could scarcely remember to breathe. Without even thinking of it, she rested her head on his left shoulder and touched the base of his neck with her hand, caressing his skin softly. In response, he squeezed her, his hand rubbing her back as he pulled her in even closer.

She wanted to say his name. She almost felt she might cry, but she only stood there. Gradually she became aware that they had stopped moving with the music, that he was merely holding her now in something sweeter and more intimate than a hug. She didn't know what possessed her when she slowly and softly kissed his neck.

He pulled back then, blinking his eyes at her.

"I'm sorry," she said immediately. She wished she hadn't done it. The way he was looking at her almost drove her into the floor. There was so much there she didn't understand, and she knew she might just have spoiled something.

The grip he had on her hand tightened, but he looked away from her, his eyes hooded under his dark hair. "Can we talk somewhere?" he asked quietly in that same voice.

She didn't know what to feel but she nodded, grasping his hand and leading him away. He followed her almost gracefully. They passed out of the dance floor and went upstairs in silence, weaving their way between the people chatting on the staircase and on the inside balcony that overlooked the dance floor. She led him to the only place she knew people wouldn't wander, her own room. She was certain no one paid attention to them coming upstairs, not that it would matter anyway. She could tell he just had something to say to her.

Once inside, she released his hand shut the doors. It felt strange to have him there, but there was no where else they could really talk without being disturbed, and for some reason it felt nice to have him in her rooms. He had never been in such an intimate place of hers before. They always met in formal locations or secluded mutual ground. Her room in Millardo's manor was rather small, with only a desk, a dresser, a closet, a bookcase and a white canopied bed all crammed into a small space. Relena sat on the bed, both feet touching the floor. Heero took the chair by the desk and pulled in up in front of her. Calmly, she took her gloves off and waited for him to speak.

For awhile neither of them said anything. After a minute Heero took off his black dress coat and hung it over the back of the chair. Then he settled his elbows on his knees, his fingers interlaces in front of him.

"Why did you come back?" Relena whispered with her hands on her knees. "I thought when you said goodbye…" she stopped. "It was so long ago."

"I didn't mean to come back," he said. He looked like he wanted to say more, but there were shadows lurking in his eyes. "Do you remember what I said before?"

How could she forget? "That you love me, Heero?" she asked.

"I don't know what love is," he evaded. "But I still think about you all the time." From the way he spoke it was like he wasn't talking about something personal at all, but was explaining some scenario or puzzle. He used a normal tone of voice, though Heero's normal voice with its dark and mysterious quality could make anything sound like it held volumes of hidden feeling. "These kind of emotions are foreign," he said in that same explanatory tone, "but I had to act on them if I was to understand them. I thought when I last saw you that that would be the end of it, but the feelings didn't go away." With this last his voice dropped and he glanced aside as if he was talking to himself.

"Heero," she said, and cleared her throat. "When I last saw you I thought you said…" she became tongue-tied, confused, but she drew her knees together and somehow managed to look into his face. "I thought you meant that you loved me."

For a moment she thought she had struck a cord by the way he tensed up, but then he stood up out of the chair and walked away from her. He moved to stand beside the small little window by the bookshelf, pulling the curtains aside with one hand. "There's lots of other girls, Relena," he said in straight tones. "I've been with lots of other girls since… since the end of the war."

"I gathered that last time you were here," she said quietly. She wondered if she should feel hurt, but she didn't. "Did you sleep with them?" she asked, occupying herself by settling her dress around her legs. There was absolutely no reason she should be able to ask him that question, but…

"Yeah," he said. "Some of them." He let the curtain fall.

She didn't say anything for a moment. She wasn't sure what he was getting at. Was he apologizing because he loved her or because he thought she expected something different from him? "How come?" she asked.

He hedged a little, his face half lost in shadow and half-lighted by the light from the window. "It's what my body was telling me was natural," he replied. "They offered. I don't know."

Again she didn't say anything. She understood what had happened now. Rumor said he had gone to social places alone, but rarely left alone. No doubt he wandered around or stood in a corner until some girl drew him out. Of course they would; he was beautiful and possessed that mysterious quality. Other girls would pick up on his kindness too. Maybe he never intended to end up in bed with any of them, but if they were aggressive and his body responded… Well of course his body would respond. He was a young man, beautiful, attractive, and he had the same needs as any other man his age. No wonder other girls had found him readily agreeable. She wondered how it was for him the first time, and felt a touch of sadness for him. It couldn't have been that lovely. Satisfying maybe, and she supposed instinct and his natural sense of efficiency would get him through it with relatively positive results, but she doubted it did his heart any good. Such intimacy without feeling might only make him retract more. Just from the way he looked now she could tell he didn't love any of those girls, maybe not even care about them at all. Of course, they probably felt the same way. It saddened her. There was a time no one could get close to him physically or emotionally. Had he conditioned himself to intimacy without feeling now? No doubt he had been satisfying his physical needs without expectation for his emotional side. But why he thought it concerned her, she wasn't sure.

Except that he said he thought about her all the time. And he had thanked her for caring about him. Maybe that was that one string that kept him from sinking into a place where there were only physical needs to fulfil. He wondered if he loved her so he came to her and kissed her and then left, hoping for what? That the feeling would go away? But it hadn't, so now he was back, explaining, or trying to. Expecting what?

"I don't know what else to say," he said when she didn't reply. "It wasn't what I expected really. Have you ever…?"

The question hung there.

"Have I ever slept with a man, Heero?" she finished for him. "What do you want me to say?"

He just looked at her. "I don't know," he said. "I guess you're too beautiful not to have by now."

Her heart clenched in her chest and she fought to breathe. Again he spoke without much emotion to his tone, looking away as soon as he had said it. She had the urge to wrap her arms around him, but she didn't move.

"It was a lot stranger than I thought," he continued. "Sex, I mean. I almost couldn't handle it that first time, being so close to that girl." He shook his head as if chasing away dark memories. "But it was pleasurable. I had expected that. And once I started I couldn't stop."

So factual. Almost scientific. Her heart went out to him, but there was nothing she could really say. He looked so lost.

"Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?" she asked him.

He turned away from the window, still standing some distance from her. "I came to finish that dance," he said quietly. "I came to tell you that wish I could love you, but I don't know how. All I really understand is the battle. There's nothing to do now that the fighting is over. Sometimes I wish I had died back there like Dr. J intended. He never prepared me for life, you know. I don't know how to live in a world like this. I just go from day to day working and eat and sleeping… the girls, they're just like that."

"Heero," she said, and she couldn't keep the anguish out of her voice. Slowly, she stood up and approached him. "Do you love me?"

"I don't know," he said coldly, looking out the window again. His eyebrows were scrunched over his eyes, his face looking strangely jumbled. "When I kissed you before it was like I had been set on fire, but it made me feel sick inside." His expression changed into something like anger. "You make me feel weak, and I hate that."

She recoiled, stepping back a little.

"I felt alive, though," he added softly. "For a little while anyway. Then I just… ached again." He turned away from the window and passed her toward the door. "We should go back to the party. I'm sorry I came here like this. I don't know why I did."

She realized he was apologizing for unloading all of his problems onto her, but it hardly registered. Still, she moved to the door mechanically, walking up to stand beside him. She wished she could say something to unburden him, to help him somehow, but she hardly understood anything to any great degree at that moment. She knew he just needed to talk to someone, and that he knew she cared.

She put her hand on the door handle and then stopped. She could hear the music coming up from below, the gentle sound of a rhythmic waltz playing downstairs and drifting up to her room, muffled by the closed door. "Heero," she said with a smile. "I enjoyed dancing with you. You know I don't mind hearing what you are going through."

He was looking at her strangely, his arms at his sides. She couldn't help looking at him, tracing the lines of his body discreetly, analyzing the buttons of his dress shirt idly. His body was so well toned and shaped. Distractedly, she wondered about those other girls, what they had seen and thought and experienced of him, but she brushed the thought out of her mind. Blushing, she turned the handle of the door.

"You don't?" he said, but it almost didn't sound like a question.

"No," she said. "I think about you all the time too. I wonder how you are doing…" she trailed off. "I wish I could help you adjust to these times of peace."

"They're wonderful," he said with a dark, almost caressing tone. "I don't want the battles to continue, Relena. I just don't know what to do with myself now that they're done."

"I understand," she said, and made again to open the door.

He covered her hand gently on the door handle, holding it in place. "Wait," he murmured. "On the dance floor," he said. You…"

She let out a sigh. Turning, she smiled at him and reached up to touch his neck, indicating the spot where her lips had brushed his skin at the end of the dance. "I'm still in love with you," she said softly. "I'm sorry." She wanted to say his name, but was checked by the fact that she didn't know what it really was.

His hand slowly slid down her arm to her elbow and she began breathing harder. Gently he turned her and trapped her with one hand against the door, his arm just by her ear. Then he leaned in to kiss her, his eyes fluttering closed. But she caught the emotions in them before they shut and when their lips met. It almost knocked her off her feet.

A boy's lips were larger and hungrier than a girl's and she could barely withstand the contact. She wanted him to go on kissing her forever. The hand that held her elbow wrapped around her upper back. The hand against the door slid down to her waist and she was in his arms. The feeling was too intense. She wanted to shout or cry or explode as he kissed her, his neck turning and meeting her lips at different angles. She couldn't help touching his face.

He jerked when she did, as if he just realized what was happening, they he had kissed her again, and was holding her tightly too. She trembled in his embrace, content and yet yearning for more. Her hands slid down his face to his neck and then to his chest. Almost unconsciously, she undid the first button of his dress shirt. She froze in shock when she realized what she had done.

He choked, pulling back. "No," he said without emotion or feeling except for a tinge of breathy tension. "I didn't come here for this. Not with you."

Looking into his face, she realized he didn't want to think of her in relation to those other girls he didn't care about.

"I know," she said, and said it with more surety and calmness then she expected. "I wouldn't have… I'm sorry," she said, embarrassed. "I don't feel that way about you." She wasn't sure what she meant by that except that she didn't want him to think she was like those other girls.

He stared at her. "Are you sure?" he asked almost without any emotion. Maybe that wasn't what he meant to say either.

Her head was spinning. "I think it would be okay," she stumbled, staring into his eyes, and wondered where that had come from. Heero Yuy was standing in her room, leaning over her with his coat off and his first button undone, watching her every twitch with those all-seeing, unblinking eyes.

Maybe this was just meant to be. Maybe it was unavoidable.

"I care so much about you," she assured him. "I want to if you want to."

Maybe he meant to turn her down by the way he gripped her about the waist as if he was going to pick her up and move her, but then his hands flattened against her skin while he leaned in to kiss her again. She accepted his kiss readily, and instead of tasting honey, it was something more like liquid lightning. Breathing and watching each other's eyes, she began to work at his clothes and he at hers. They pulled off each other's garments in silence, almost as if they were preparing for something else entirely. He hardly touched her while he unzipped her dress and unclasped the strand of pearls from her hair. When she was stripped down to a silk slip and camisole, she led him to the bed, stepping backward as she worked at his belt.

Heero pushed her softly down on the bed by the shoulders and for some reason it didn't really feel that strange. A moment later, he had crawled up beside her on his knees. He removed her undergarments by sliding his hands up her body, removing the filmy white silk and then attacking her remaining undergarments. Her breathing quickened a little, but she kept her eyes focused on his face. He didn't seem surprised or awed or startled by her nakedness at all.

"You look exactly like I imagined," he said softly to her unanswered question. A few seconds later he was as naked as she was. She tried not to stare or think too much. Instead she sat up and kissed him, sliding her hands around his neck and back. He grasped her arms, his slender body bending over her, laying her back against the pillows. It felt so normal.

At first all he did was kiss her, breathing heavily and caressing her face so tenderly she almost couldn't believe he was real. Even when he progressed to foreplay, he didn't stop kissing her, though they both began to breath heavily. The hesitant way he repeatedly sought her mouth sent shivers up her spine more than what his hands were doing.

"What if someone comes in?" he whispered worriedly into her ear. Those dark, mellow tones were a little strained. "Zechs…"

She stretched her neck and gasped. "No," she said, and he shuddered as she kissed him again. "He won't. But we have to be quiet."

He continued, those eyes of his softening, the lids half closed, dark hair hanging over his face. She didn't close her eyes for fear of losing something of this moment, watching the face of gundam pilot 01, whom she had been in love with for so long, as he made love to her. There was something mutual and silent in the way they touched each other, careful and thoughtful and hesitant, yet confident and thorough. When she began to pay more particular attention to his body, he murmured something by her ear, speaking to himself, but whatever it was didn't seem to have much concentration behind it.

"Heero," she breathed in his ear suddenly. "I'm not on any birth control. Do you have any protection…?"

He stopped, and she thought it there was no solution he would have gotten up and left her in an instant. "I didn't plan on this," he said. "I never thought I…"

"Hold on," she interrupted, and sat up, kissing his forehead. He sat back on his knees, giving her space. Twisting, she reached into her nightstand by the side of her bed and fished around until she found what she was looking for. She helped him put the condom on and then lay back again, letting him reposition her hips to his liking. When he entered her, she let out a quiet sigh.

She could hear the music downstairs through the bed and the floor, like a harmony to the rhythm they were making. Her knees rose to either side of him and though she tried to keep pace with him, he did most of the work. His face hovered over hers, his eyes closed, his eyebrows scrunched and drawn low, his mouth slightly parted. He trembled to kiss her now, working mostly below, and she didn't mind. She could hardly think with the feeling he was creating, but she whispered and instructed in encouragement with a voice that sounded strained even to her own ears.

The mounting tension eventually subsided in a small burst as her muscles tightened and then released, her sexual energy draining with it. Kissing her, he kept going for a little longer. She caressed his back and shoulders until he came, only a few seconds after her really, and then relaxed over her body, staring into her eyes.

She smoothed damp hair away from his face.

He looked tired but happy. "Do you want me to hold you?" he asked.

"It's okay," she said.

He rolled off of her and stretched out muscles that were cramped from holding his body weight above her. She pulled down the covers to the bed and slipped under the sheets. After a moment, he crawled under the covers with her and softly caressed her skin.

The next morning she couldn't remember if she had fallen asleep immediately or not, but the sunlight streaming in through the window told her that it was indeed morning. The second thing she noticed was that her bed was empty, Heero's clothes were gone and there was a small note written in a precise hand lying on the pillow next to her. Sitting up, she picked up the note and stared at it for a minute.

Tossing the covers back, she got out of bed and pulled her robe off the bedpost, throwing it around her shoulders.

A knock came at her door.

"Relena?"

"I'm in my robe, Noin," she said, "but you can come in."

Lucrezia Noin opened the door a crack. "Are you all right? You left the party early last night. No one could find you."

Relena smiled at her. "I'm fine," she said. "I just tired of the crowd."

She nodded. "Several people saw you with a young man last night. Who was he?"

"No one," she replied. "I only danced with him once."

Noin sighed. "Not still moping about Heero, are you?"

"A little," she admitted quietly.

Noin shook her head. "Well, not much I can say about it that I haven't already said, but I wish he'd stop being afraid and just…" she stopped. "Sorry. I don't mean to pry into your personal life."

"It's all right. I wish he would too."

Smiling, Noin shut the door softly.

Relena moved to the window, looking out to the horizon. The note was still crumpled in her hand. Lifting it, she read the words again, wondering how she should feel, what she should understand. What had been his thought process? How had he felt? Had he agonized over those few short phrases? Had they taken much effort to write down? Yesterday felt like a dream. She couldn't help smiling just a little, but she also couldn't stop the tears that came to her eyes.

I don't regret anything, but I'm afraid fighting is all I can do. I love you. I'm sorry.

Heero.

Lifting her head, she wiped her eyes and smiled. "Goodbye, Heero," she whispered.