Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Love Life Arc ❯ Cold As You ( Chapter 3 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Cold As You: Part Three in the Love Life Arc
`blah' denotes song lyrics
`blah' denotes memories/dreams/real-time thoughts
Summary: Quatre gets a midnight visitor and everything comes out.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the song Cold As You- Taylor Swift
Cold As You
`How could there possibly be no more paper work to do?' Quatre thought in surprise as his fingers hit the smooth bottom of his in-tray. He was the CEO- hell the damn owner- of the largest company in the whole Earth Sphere. There should be paperwork up to the ceiling for him to do.
Of course, it could have been that it was nearly twelve in the morning and Quatre had yet to leave the office and not that paper work was short, that was the problem.
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
You have a way of coming easily to me
And when you take, you take the very best of me
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
The offices had been empty for hours now- Anita had stayed until six thirty before slamming the door in frustration when Quatre had refused to leave. Only a few security guards roamed the building as the Winner heir tried to work himself into an empty grave.
According to Anita anyway.
Quatre just had no desire to go home to his mansion- alone- and spend another- alone- until he had to leave for another day at work- alone.
The feelings- or lack of them- had started roughly six months ago. When Quatre had said no to Trowa in a fit of desperation to know what they had.
Trowa had answered the silent question quite clearly- they had nothing.
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
So I start a fight `cause I need to feel something
And you do what you want `cause I'm not what you wanted
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
As the words of a proposal he'd already read over, twice, began to blur together, Quatre stood with a sigh.
“I need more coffee.”
Anita had taken the last canister of Arabic brew from his own personal storage when she had realized Quatre was drinking nearly a cup every two hours. Now if he wanted any caffeinated drinks, he had to leave the office and make a five minute trek to the lunch room.
There was still a half-pot left from that morning. Quatre made a face at it before grabbing a large mug and pouring himself a cup. Then the mug went into the microwave.
It was old, reheated and strong but it was better than nothing Quatre thought as a loud repeated beeping blared through the silent room.
Shadows danced across the corridors as the Winner heir returned to his office. The door was ajar, letting a blade of golden light stripe across the floor before him. The sound of the colony's artificial rain pattered on the glass of the open window.
L4 was a cluster of desert colonies, making them subject to the harsh `sun' and `heat' of the actual deserts. At night though, the sands cooled and they let it rain
In these last six months, he had come to love the rain.
A shadow detached itself from the wall, its reflection startling the blond into sloshing his coffee.
“Quatre.”
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
Oh what a shame, what a rainy ending to a perfect day
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
It felt as though no time had passed since he had last set eyes on Trowa Barton. His heart still jumped at the sound of his voice, his breath still quickened at the sight of his body.
His heart still broke at the memory of what they'd lost.
Quatre grit his teeth, suddenly furious.
“What are you doing here Trowa?” he bit out as the taller man slowly approached him. “Better still, how sis you get in here- security is tight.”
Trowa had the tiniest smirk on his face. “I was a Gundam pilot- no security could keep me out.” The smirk- because Trowa never smiled at him- disappeared as he stopped a mere foot from Quatre. “I came to talk to you.”
On a whim, the blond let loose a trendil of his empathy, stretching out to touch his ex-lov- his ex-something-or-another's emotions.
The sting of cold nothingness made his jerk and retreat.
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
Just walk away, ain't no use defending words that you will never say
And now that I'm sitting here thinking it through
I've never been anywhere cold as you
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
The window caught Trowa's reflecting frown as Quatre turned away from him.
“I'm busy Trowa. I've already told you that.” He made to go back to his desk when the former clown spoke.
“I don't believe you.” His green eyes blazed as Quatre whipped around to face him. “And I'm not leaving until we fix this.”
“Fix? Fix what?” the blond's voice was mocking and bitter. “We have-had nothing to fix, Trowa. Please leave.”
The L3 man ignored that last bit. “Yes we did.”
Quatre scoffed. “I can feel you, Trowa- or should I say I can't feel you.” Trowa looked…unnerved at his love's snide remarks. “Is that what we have- what we need to fix? The cold nothingness between us?”
“If it were nothing, why does it hurt so much now that it's gone?”
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
You put up walls and paint them all a shade of gray
And I stood there loving you and wished them all away
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
A sharp pain hot through Quatre's chest at those words. For a moment, it almost sounded like Trowa understood- felt the same ache that he had- from being away from his love.
But that was ridiculous- Trowa didn't feel anything.
“That's not true, mon amour.”
He hadn't meant to say that out loud was the distant thought as the words `mon amour' echoed though his mind. Mon amour…my love.
My love.
“No.” He said, backing away, as if afraid of Trowa's form. “No. you don't love me. I can feel love. I can't feel you at all. You feel nothing.”
“My emotions are too complicated, too confused, too hurtful to just let out. I don't want to hurt you with them.” Never did the other man's voice raise in passion or anger, but sat quietly in its familiar chilling tone. It undermined his claim of emotion when he spoke to Quatre like that.
“Maybe I need to feel them, Trowa. I want to know when you're angry with me, when you're happy or disappointed. Maybe I want to know I matter to you somehow, that I can touch you just as deeply as you can touch me!”
That one widening eye was his only hint, his only clue that something was getting through to Trowa. Quatre felt a faint, stirring heat from the other man's general vicinity as all of his own bitter anger and resentment bubbled up.
“You just miss having the Winner heir at your beck and call. Poor, innocent, trusting Quatre. He'll fall for anyone who shows him a little attention.” The heat grew. “Now that it's over you come back here with your pretty words and expect what? For me to simply fall back into your arms like the….idiot I was before? Think again!
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
And you come away with a great little story
Of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
Trowa had broken his paralysis and moved suddenly, grasping his love's shoulders tightly before pulling him to his chest. Quatre fought, jerking his body and wriggling madly.
Trowa's hand came up to hold his neck, bringing his head down to rest in the dip by the taller man's collar bone.
“Shh, stop struggling for a moment, please Quatre. Just stop and feel again.”
The sound of the rain drops on glass and their slight panting filled the air as he complied- almost grudgingly- with Trowa's soft words.
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
Oh what a shame, what a rainy ending to a perfect day
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
Then he felt it.
A heat, much like the warming of the desert sun, like the brands of Trowa's hands on his body when they had made love, filled that place where his heart lay. It was like drinking in life again, breathing in the fresh mountain air on Earth.
Franticly, Quatre followed the strong threads leading from his heart to the heat's source.
To Trowa.
“Do you feel that?” the taller man dipped his head to whisper in his ear. “I burn for you. What I feel between for you is so strong I was afraid of getting burnt by it. I fought to control the fire and instead hurt you with the cold.”
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
Just walk away, ain't no use defending words that you will never say
And now that I'm sitting here thinking it through
I've never been anywhere cold as you
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
The absence of emotion- that cold nothingness- was gone from his lover now. This new, wonderful heat was so intense- too intense to be faked.
Through his hazy happiness, a spiteful thought snapped into life.
“Why? Why now do you feel so alive? After all this time, hurting me-“
Trowa looked pained as he watched Quatre struggle for his words. He swallowed the tears burning his eyes as he sought out the brilliant emerald he loved so much.
“Why would you let me fall for you, love you -for years- and give me nothing but that cold? How long would you have let me die on the inside, waiting for you to feel something- to give me something?!”
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
You never did give a damn thing honey but I cried, cried for you
And I know you wouldn't have told nobody if I died, died for you
Died for you...
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
Trowa had no answers for him it seemed but the fire spoke for him- not once dying in its intensity.
They couldn't have kept things up as before for long- something would have happened. Trowa would have melted under Quatre's love….or Quatre would have frozen from Trowa's cold indifference.
“I'm sorry. Don't give up on me. Help me melt the ice forever.” Quatre received his gentle kiss with a sigh. “Quatre J'taime, mon cheri.”
The fire surged with those words as Quatre felt his response shoot through his lips.
“Nohinoka!”
He'd help Trowa feel again, if not for his lover's sake then for his own. He never wanted to feel that cold again.
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
Oh what a shame what a rainy ending to a perfect day
Oh every smile you fake is so condescending
Counting all the scars you made
And now that I'm sitting here thinking it through
I've never been anywhere cold as you
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~