Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Mistaken ❯ Mistaken: 1 Lonely ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Shadow_Kat 
When the lonliness gets to be too much, Duo goes prowling.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 01.13.2003 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.4K | Visits: 1.7K | Status: Work In Progress
When the lonliness gets to be too much, Duo goes prowling.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 01.13.2003 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.4K | Visits: 1.7K | Status: Work In Progress
As I sit in the darkened room I can't help but wonder if I would always be alone...Yes it's true that the great Shinigami had one fear resting deep in his heart. Lonliness...that one little thing that can even make a murderer cry. So that is exactly what I did, I cried until it hurt to breathe. How did I ever end back up at L2?
It has been almost a year since the last time I saw any of my fellow pilots...my friends...but some how I always knew that I would be alone. It's not too hard to figure out that I am just trouble, shit not even my real family had stuck around long enough for me to even get a proper name. But I prey that they are all dead...kinda sick I know, but I would rather think them dead than think that I was never wanted by anyone...not even my parents.
So I sit in this smelly decrepit motel room in the dark. Maybe I should just break down and start prowling the local clubs for a quick lay, shit it used to work when I was younger. I would pick a random face in the pusling dim light of the club and that would be my comfort for the night. Just a face in the crowd, any warm body would do. It was the one thing that could make me feel human...atleast for a little while.
Throwing on the tightest pair of leather pants I have and a very clingy mesh muscle shirt, I decide that the Metro would serve nicely as my hunting grounds tonight. It's not the same as when I was younger, sex just doesn't do the same thing to me that it used to. Yes, I realize that the comfort those nameless people used to bring is gone, and yes I realize that I can only feel complete with one person...but I won't say his name anymore.
He took off right after the Mariameia incident...just up and left. No goodbye, no thanks just a cold empty room and his gun lying on the perfectly made bed. I remember trying to find him, not that I know what I would I have done if I actually found him. Would I have declared my love for him? Would I have cussed at him for just leaving his so called friends without a second look? Heh...I could go on all night with the "What If's", and personally I am depressed enough as it is.
All through the war every time he looked at me, even if it was just to call me a baka, filled me with something...I don't think I can explain it. It's like when a puppy gets all excited when it sees the leash...well I was the same way when he spoke to me. I hung on every word...I lived for the smallest kindness he would grace me with. Sure there was no hope that he would ever love me the way that I loved him, but I didn't really think I would live long enough to really have it affect me. I figured I would die in that war and then I wouldn't have to suffer through this...funny how the best laid plans never go the way you expect them too, huh.
After waiting in line for what seemed like hours, I finally get in to the club. It's raunchy and smells of liquor and sex, and I feel comfortable here. No one has to know that I am a trained killer, no one has to understand that I am totally alone in this life...and they don't care about anything but the look and feel of my young body under or over their own. If you haven't figured it out yet...I'm bi, and you would figure that that fact alone would like double my chances of finding someone, but it doesn't. The only thing it does is make me acutely aware of how fucking pathetic my life is.
So I go up to Greg the bartender...yep we are now on a first name basis...and order the usual. "Hey Greg, a shot of Southern Comfort with a coke on the side."
"So what are ya looking for tonight Shini? I got a couple of lookers near the back that are alone and looking for a good time." Greg hands me my drinks and nods in the womens' direction. "The blond is really hot, with legs that go all the way up to her boobs. Heh, shit I might even want a jaunt with that."
Every knows me as 'Shini' at my usual places, I tend to want to keep my past as hidden as possible. And let me tell ya, it's not easy with the two foot braid and unusual violet eyes.
"Naw I think I am into my *trademark* prey, I want to savor this one." If anyone knows my *trademark* prey it's Greg, in fact he has just the right looks. Not too tall but lean, finely chiseled muscuels and a head of messy short chocolate brown hair. The eyes don't really matter anymore, I stopped looking for anything more than a body a long time ago.
"Well you're in luck Shini, we got a looker over near the dance floor. And he's alone...But I don't know about him he looks like kinda...scarry." Greg states hesitantly.
"Heh...the scarrier the better is what I always say, then we'll have something in common." I don't really think he heard that last part because I had already started to leave, but truth be known...it's not something that I'm proud of. It just reflects my self destructive streak, if you know what I mean.
So I start the usual route strolling along the edge of the dance floor, seeing what I could see. So far there is nothing real interesting...just the usual sea of unremarkable faces. then I see the guy that Greg was talking about...I can't exactly see him very well but I can tell that he'll fit the bill for tonight. Dark brown mop of messy hair, not too tall...it's funny because I didn't notice at the time I noticed him that my breath seemed to hitch in my chest. Yeah talk about a shock, if I didn't know better I would have thought it really was HIM...but he'd never come to this run down excuse for a colony, let alone a club.
"Well folks we've found our prize..." I practically hiss as I stalk to his general area. He's sitting at a stool looking out onto the dance floor, so he hasn't even seen me yet...but then again he doesn't have to because I can make him want it, straight or gay I will get him into my bed tonight..or atleast my pants.
I walk onto the dance floor where I know he can see me, and I begin to gyrate my hips to the beat of the music. Grinding an unseen lover, I don't have to think anymore, I just let the pulsing music move me. My hands run under my braid and trail down my neck and chest...I am enjoying the touch even as much as I am enjoying the fact that all eyes are on me. I may be a clutz in everyday life but rythm I do not lack.
My hands caress my bared midriff, ghosting along my firmly musceled stomach...running my fingers along the low riding waist of my leather pants. I dip one hand lower along the front of my thigh and move the other one to my ass...bending over in a silent invitation.
I haven't even looked at him yet but I know what I will see...a pair of eyes eating up my little performance, the tip of his pink tongue running along his lips...all the while pure lust would be clearly written across his face. But I'm not worried about it...it's all part of the show. I want him to feel like he's watching me without me knowing, like he's peeping on me. It's all a tease and it's all an act...and so it goes in the world of the lonely.
It has been almost a year since the last time I saw any of my fellow pilots...my friends...but some how I always knew that I would be alone. It's not too hard to figure out that I am just trouble, shit not even my real family had stuck around long enough for me to even get a proper name. But I prey that they are all dead...kinda sick I know, but I would rather think them dead than think that I was never wanted by anyone...not even my parents.
So I sit in this smelly decrepit motel room in the dark. Maybe I should just break down and start prowling the local clubs for a quick lay, shit it used to work when I was younger. I would pick a random face in the pusling dim light of the club and that would be my comfort for the night. Just a face in the crowd, any warm body would do. It was the one thing that could make me feel human...atleast for a little while.
Throwing on the tightest pair of leather pants I have and a very clingy mesh muscle shirt, I decide that the Metro would serve nicely as my hunting grounds tonight. It's not the same as when I was younger, sex just doesn't do the same thing to me that it used to. Yes, I realize that the comfort those nameless people used to bring is gone, and yes I realize that I can only feel complete with one person...but I won't say his name anymore.
He took off right after the Mariameia incident...just up and left. No goodbye, no thanks just a cold empty room and his gun lying on the perfectly made bed. I remember trying to find him, not that I know what I would I have done if I actually found him. Would I have declared my love for him? Would I have cussed at him for just leaving his so called friends without a second look? Heh...I could go on all night with the "What If's", and personally I am depressed enough as it is.
All through the war every time he looked at me, even if it was just to call me a baka, filled me with something...I don't think I can explain it. It's like when a puppy gets all excited when it sees the leash...well I was the same way when he spoke to me. I hung on every word...I lived for the smallest kindness he would grace me with. Sure there was no hope that he would ever love me the way that I loved him, but I didn't really think I would live long enough to really have it affect me. I figured I would die in that war and then I wouldn't have to suffer through this...funny how the best laid plans never go the way you expect them too, huh.
After waiting in line for what seemed like hours, I finally get in to the club. It's raunchy and smells of liquor and sex, and I feel comfortable here. No one has to know that I am a trained killer, no one has to understand that I am totally alone in this life...and they don't care about anything but the look and feel of my young body under or over their own. If you haven't figured it out yet...I'm bi, and you would figure that that fact alone would like double my chances of finding someone, but it doesn't. The only thing it does is make me acutely aware of how fucking pathetic my life is.
So I go up to Greg the bartender...yep we are now on a first name basis...and order the usual. "Hey Greg, a shot of Southern Comfort with a coke on the side."
"So what are ya looking for tonight Shini? I got a couple of lookers near the back that are alone and looking for a good time." Greg hands me my drinks and nods in the womens' direction. "The blond is really hot, with legs that go all the way up to her boobs. Heh, shit I might even want a jaunt with that."
Every knows me as 'Shini' at my usual places, I tend to want to keep my past as hidden as possible. And let me tell ya, it's not easy with the two foot braid and unusual violet eyes.
"Naw I think I am into my *trademark* prey, I want to savor this one." If anyone knows my *trademark* prey it's Greg, in fact he has just the right looks. Not too tall but lean, finely chiseled muscuels and a head of messy short chocolate brown hair. The eyes don't really matter anymore, I stopped looking for anything more than a body a long time ago.
"Well you're in luck Shini, we got a looker over near the dance floor. And he's alone...But I don't know about him he looks like kinda...scarry." Greg states hesitantly.
"Heh...the scarrier the better is what I always say, then we'll have something in common." I don't really think he heard that last part because I had already started to leave, but truth be known...it's not something that I'm proud of. It just reflects my self destructive streak, if you know what I mean.
So I start the usual route strolling along the edge of the dance floor, seeing what I could see. So far there is nothing real interesting...just the usual sea of unremarkable faces. then I see the guy that Greg was talking about...I can't exactly see him very well but I can tell that he'll fit the bill for tonight. Dark brown mop of messy hair, not too tall...it's funny because I didn't notice at the time I noticed him that my breath seemed to hitch in my chest. Yeah talk about a shock, if I didn't know better I would have thought it really was HIM...but he'd never come to this run down excuse for a colony, let alone a club.
"Well folks we've found our prize..." I practically hiss as I stalk to his general area. He's sitting at a stool looking out onto the dance floor, so he hasn't even seen me yet...but then again he doesn't have to because I can make him want it, straight or gay I will get him into my bed tonight..or atleast my pants.
I walk onto the dance floor where I know he can see me, and I begin to gyrate my hips to the beat of the music. Grinding an unseen lover, I don't have to think anymore, I just let the pulsing music move me. My hands run under my braid and trail down my neck and chest...I am enjoying the touch even as much as I am enjoying the fact that all eyes are on me. I may be a clutz in everyday life but rythm I do not lack.
My hands caress my bared midriff, ghosting along my firmly musceled stomach...running my fingers along the low riding waist of my leather pants. I dip one hand lower along the front of my thigh and move the other one to my ass...bending over in a silent invitation.
I haven't even looked at him yet but I know what I will see...a pair of eyes eating up my little performance, the tip of his pink tongue running along his lips...all the while pure lust would be clearly written across his face. But I'm not worried about it...it's all part of the show. I want him to feel like he's watching me without me knowing, like he's peeping on me. It's all a tease and it's all an act...and so it goes in the world of the lonely.