Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Mon Amour ❯ Mon Amour ( One-Shot )
A/N: Just something my plot bunny-infested mind came up with. The title means "My Love" in French! You may like it, you may not, but whether you do or don't I would still appreciate feedback. Helpful comments are welcome. Oh yeah, and this is from Wufei's POV, as most of my first-person POV fics are.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, nor do I own the song "The Difference" by Matchbox 20.
"Mon Amour"
It was just one of those days that sneaks up on you every once in awhile. It was one of those times when I would rather lie in bed all day and never leave the safety of my home, because everything reminded me of her. The smell in the air, the colours in the sky, the trees, the birds-gods, everything! Memories I would much rather forget, inevitably, resurfaced, and I found myself in a foul mood. Or perhaps it wasn't a foul mood, and merely a speculating feeling.
Sometimes I shoved aside my memories, quickly finding something-anything-that could relieve my head of all these burdensome contemplations. Other times I would stay dormant for hours on end, simply reveling in the sweet memories of her touch, her feel and her taste.
I remember one day in particular, where Sally and I had lay together on my bed, curled up against one another while merely listening to the soft patter of rain against the slated roof. Her skin had been so warm against mine, and I used to be amazed at how easily it slid against mine, like silk; and I know that sounds cliché, but its truth rings clear.
<Slow dancing on the boulevard
In the quiet moments while the city's still dark
Sleepwalking through the summer rain and the tired spaces
You could hear her name when she was warm and tender>
I would have been content to hold her all day just like that, forgetting everyday essentials if just for a moment. It seemed, however, that Sally was in one of her whimsical moods, and she had dragged me out of bed at four in the morning. It was still raining, and I remember making some offhand comment about dancing in the rain.
She had simply given me a dazzling smile, quirkily responding, "I've always wanted to dance in the rain."
Perhaps I didn't put up much of a fight, or maybe I didn't even want to protest; but in the end Sally had successfully managed to drag me out of the dry house into the chilling summer rain. She pulled me along by the hand down the dark and deserted blocks of the quiet neighborhood. She led me to the boulevard overlooking a tiny man-made lake. In all honesty, it wasn't much, but it was the most beautiful spot around.
By then our clothes were soaked clear through, and I realized with an ironic smile that Sally had worn a black tank top. Her hair wasn't pulled back in its usual twists, and the rainwater had plastered her hair to her head and shoulders. I remember how the rainwater fell in small beads down her toned shoulders, and I had the sudden desire to kiss the rainwater away.
She had pulled me close, and I was acutely aware of how much power she had over me, and I wondered if she realized it or not. Wrapping her arms around my shoulders, she began swaying back and forth to a rhythm unheard. I remember wrapping my own arms around her waist, and giving into the urge to draw her closer. And Sally got her wish as we danced in the rain, and I fulfilled my desire as I leisurely kissed the water off her face, neck and shoulders, where the rain merely soaked it once more.
I suppose my explorations are what ended the dance quicker than expected. Latching onto my hand, we quickly ran back to the warmth of my house, where our earlier passion was not lost.
Lying in the afterglow, still feeling warm inside, I recall laughing quietly, and stating how it was strange, because we were back where we started. She had smiled at me then, and I felt like a god knowing I had made her smile.
She quietly thanked me for dancing with her, and I had been unable to think of anything tangible to say in reply…so I merely drew her closer.
<And you held her arms around you
There was nothing but her love and affection
She was crazy for you
Now she's part of something that you lost>
That memory is one of my favourites, and I treasure it as if it were sacred.
It might as well have been.
Yes, I concluded once more, today is one of those days I'm going to remember no matter how I try. Every touch and every whisper will relive itself with me until I find sanctuary in sleep, where she still visits me in my dreams. It seems odd that I am so wrapped up in her on today; perhaps because it is Valentine's Day, and I am lying alone. I've been alone since I left her, and I've never quite been able to forgive myself for taking the coward's way out.
I pull myself out of bed, and the carpet cushions my feet, cradling them in the softness. Sally had always said I was acutely aware of everything around me. I guess my carpet contemplation proves her speculations; she always was an intelligent woman.
The sun is shining brightly in the cool February morning; so contradictory to the rainy day I had been vividly recollecting. The wind is chilly, biting at the tip of my nose and ears. I realize how the wind opposites the kind of lover Sally had been. She was never cold or distant, always putting me before her, caring as if she needed to-as if she would die without it. Maybe she even loved me. She had told me so once, and her warm embraces and passionate touches had support her words.
I had been foolish to doubt her.
I had been foolish to leave…
It was crazy, how after all these years I am still head-over-heels for this woman. It seems entirely irrational, and not to mention illogical.
But then again, I've never been known for my exceedingly wise choices.
I have failed so many times, and you'd think I would learn by now. I had lost Meilan, and that had been the root of my participation in the war. I got my ideal of justice from her, and she also gave me the ambition to fight. I wanted to be stronger…because I was too weak to save her.
Sally hadn't needed saving; I lost her of my own doing. Just call me Chang Wufei-the most idiotic man alive.
<For all you know this could be
The difference between what you need
And what you wanna be
Yeah, what you wanna be>
The sunlit sidewalks are full of happy couples milling about easily, finding comfort in their respective better halves. Ages varied from teenage pairs to older couples with weathered faces and knowing smiles. There were people my age, and I felt a pang of loss deep in the cavity of my chest. Naturally, it was quickly replaced with an almost innate feeling of guilt. It was no one's fault but my own that I was here and she was not. I couldn't decide whether that reduced or increased my pain.
Now don't go condemning me right away; give me some time to make my case. I had a reason for leaving, and in the end it was most likely the wisest choice.
I had grown so accustomed to her, and it has felt so damn good. When I awoke in the morning her smile was as regular as brushing my teeth. Her last kiss before work tasted better than the quick breakfast I mechanically consumed. I began to realize how much I depended on her…
I saw how much I needed her.
Now I'm not one who likes relying on others. I have always done things independently, and that's how I liked it. To suddenly realize that Sally was as essential to me as breathing…well that came as quite a shock. And I couldn't live with that-it made the relationship seem so one-sided. I never did understand that she needed me as well-and maybe that was my biggest mistake.
And now, on this crisp Valentine's Day, I am able to accept the fact that I still want her. I don't think it's need anymore…but perhaps it has just diluted somewhat overtime. Or maybe I just grew numb to it after the years.
Or maybe I'm in love with her…but-gods, what's love, anyway?
I slip into the warm, dimly lit café that the neighborhood is famous for. I sit at a corner, two-person table, ordering a green tea from the waitress who greeted me. I can't help but think that, if Sally were here, she would probably order a vanilla café latté, with the excuse "I like drinking the foam from the top." I remember, all those years ago, how I had appreciated small little facts about her: her coffee tastes, her favourite places to be kissed, her ticklish spots…and you may think I'm being obsessive or unusually soft; but I would have to disagree with you.
I sip the warm tea the same waitress has brought me, and the bitter liquid inevitably brings up an equally bittersweet memory.
<Night swimming in her diamond dress
Making small circles move across the surface
Stand watching from the steady shore feeling wide open
And waiting for something warm and tender>
Sally and I were on a mission in some tropical island. The name of the island hasn't stuck in my mind, but I remember the other details so vibrantly, as if they were burned in my memory. Maybe they are.
It had been late at night, and the moon was at its peak in the ebony sky. Stars sprinkled the sky's expanse like tiny diamonds, each cut to perfection. But, truly, the only thing perfect that night had been her.
I had awoken that night to find her warm body absent from the bed of the small condo we had rented to stay in while we completed the mission. I slipped out of bed as well and walked down the deserted beach; and I recall how the sand was cold beneath my feet, having finally cooled off from the unforgiving summer heat.
Looking out into the ocean, I saw Sally's familiar form swimming about chest-deep in the salty water. I moved to the shoreline to get a better look, and the water washed up over my feet, cleansing them of the sand. I remember how she was spinning in slow circles, her gaze lifted towards the sky. I called out to her, feeling a strong surge of caring pass through me-caring for this woman who drove me to distraction, and made me love every moment of it.
She began half-walking half-swimming towards me, and as the water got more and more shallow I was able to see that she was garbed only in a long white dress shirt of mine. The salty water made it cling to her body like a second skin. As she drew up to me I pulled her into my embrace tightly. The water made her skin and lips taste salty, and the sand caused extra friction against our skin.
That was the first and only time we had made love on a beach.
I hold that memory fondly, forever picturing her swimming serenely in the salty ocean.
I am brought back to the present when I hear the telltale creak of the café door being opened. I turn, half-expecting to see my long-lost love in a wet, oversized dress shirt. Instead, I see an elderly couple; the man has his arm around his wife's waist as he guided her to an empty table. The familiar pang I felt at the simple gesture was quite anticipated, as was my analysis on my strange emotions.
Was I jealous that others had hung onto their love, following it through hell and high waters? Was I angry with myself for leaving behind the only person who had ever made me truly happy? Or was I foolishly hoping that I could go back to her…that after all these years she would still be single and would welcome me with open arms?
<Now she's moving further from you
There was nothing that could make it easy on you
Every step you take reminds you that she's walking wrong>
It seems like I never really put her behind me. True, I left her, and she most likely moved on with her life, but I had not. All this time I thought that I was walking away, but in all actuality I was standing stock-still. Instead, I was letting Sally walk away… without me.
I have to control myself from throwing my mug of tea across the room. This new revelation has made me realize how foolish I had been. Not only was it my fault Sally wasn't with me…but also I had left out of cowardice. I had left without truly leaving.
Here, let me put it in layman's terms, as it confuses even me. I had left Sally because I was afraid of needing her; the power she held over me scared me, because I allowed her to. I thought leaving her would release me from this spell, but it did not, for I never essentially left. I hung onto her, though she's miles away.
But there was no reason for her to hang on. I allowed her to move on, but never truly left as well. And that seems terribly cowardly to me. I was afraid to be in the relationship, and I was afraid to move on. Tell me, where is the honour in that? Where is the justice in that?! My cowardice utterly amazed me, and I began to feel sick to my stomach.
Unable to drink anymore, I threw some bills on the table for the tea and walked into the exasperatingly cheerful sunlight. I had to do something…I felt a need to atone my foolishness. Or maybe I didn't want expiation at all…maybe I just wanted her. Still.
I stand in the middle of the sidewalk, feeling immensely out of place. I want to do something so very bad, but I don't quite know what it is I want to do. The people pass me by without a second glance, not really noticing the strange man standing all alone with a blank look on his face. I wonder, if I were in their place, would I notice a solitary person, so self-confidant, and yet so unsure? I find I can't honestly answer for sure, and the moment is broken when I begin walking towards my house.
It seems peculiar, because now that I am walking, sure of my destination, I am being paid notice. People spare me glances as I walk by them, and when I capture their gaze they either smile or glance away quickly. I wonder why they only choose to pay me heed when I am in control, assertively making towards my allotted destination.
The site of my modest home soon greets me, and it takes me a couple of seconds to realize that I had walked that quickly. I walk inside, noting absently that I forgot to lock the door earlier. For some reason this didn't deter me at all. I wonder if it should have. Sally would say I should be more careful…perhaps I should.
<Yeah, for all you know, this could be
The difference between what you need
And what you want…>
The bed cushions my body as I recline slightly, and my gaze keeps shifting over to the vid-phone of its own accord. The blank screen seems to be staring at me ominously, and I am both drawn to and threatened by its nature. A wry laugh leaves my lips as I realize this is a vid-phone I'm growing wary of…it's a simple vid-phone that could do me no harm, unless it is thrown out of a twenty-story window right above my head. Then I should be worried.
My bone-dry sarcasm does not quell my unexplainable fascination with the machine, but I am not as stupid as one would like to think. I know I want to call her…I want to so badly that I can feel it constricting in my chest, being painful as well as importunate. It wouldn't be hard to call her; I'll admit, I looked up her number when I found out she was living on Earth as well. We may be miles away from one another, but the thought that we are on the same planet has always been slightly comforting…perhaps more than slightly.
If I'm honest with myself, and I normally am, then I would safely say that I was slightly…afraid of calling my long-lost lover. I was afraid I would still want her-who am I kidding, of course I still wanted her. I guess I am afraid that she really did move on, and I don't want to be crushed. Imagine: me crushed by a mere woman. The thought is laughable to everyone but me. Maybe it's because I know the truth, and I know the power I had allowed Sally to have over me. For some reason I had always been content with that, because I trusted her. I suppose I left because I didn't trust myself.
As I sit here, contemplating over whether or not to call her, I begin to see how foolish I am being. The reason I left is because I had fed her lies, never saying what I truly meant. And now, on some whimsical thought of mine, I have the desire to call her and tell her how I hurt her through lies and deceit-I had never really wanted to leave her.
All my lies, half-truths and angry words came rushing back to me, and I felt this immense shame wash over me. Everything I shouldn't have said, I said. Everything I should have said, I kept inside. I wanted a chance to make it better…and, I must admit, I don't really deserve a chance at correcting my folly. But she does. She deserves the truth, and I am the only one who can give it to her.
I sometimes wish I could turn back time-I know it is foolish thinking, since it could never happen. But if I could turn back time I would backtrack five years prior I would take back all the horrible things I told her. But then again, if I could…would I go back as far as to save Meilan? I can't honestly answer that question…and I really don't really even want to try. I suppose some questions are better left unanswered, and I choose not to ponder this quite debatable question.
But of course, when you choose not to think about something, the inevitable result is that you can't get it off your mind. And quite typically, this question turned over and over in my mind, until my eyes glazed over with thought and my breathing deepened to an almost meditative state. I seriously weigh the consequences of this "what-if" question, even though I normally don't bother with such trivial nonsense.
<Every word you never said
Echoes down your empty hallway
And everything that was your world
Just came down>
I had been honour-bound to marry Meilan, and it took the last few moments of her life for me to realize just how strong she really was. She was immobilized at fourteen-such a tender age; but then again, we had both been forced to grow up so fast. She will always be that young teenager in my mind, forced to grow up so much faster than she should have.
Oh gods, I wish I could have Sally back. Meilan taught me so much, giving me the drive necessary to take Nataku and bring peace, along with her sense of justice, But Sally…
Sally taught me how to love.
And I just have to tell her that. I can't stop my hands from shaking as I turn on the vid-phone, watching as the screen came to life. I typed in the number I knew by heart, though I had never actually called. I cradled the phone piece against my ear, hoping my expression looks more controlled than I am feeling at the moment. I can't remove my gaze from the screen even if I wanted to.
Riiiiinggg.
Riiiiinggg.
"Hello?" I hear the voice, and even over the miles of telephone cords I recognize her voice even before her familiar face flashes onto the screen. I would be lying if I said she looks the same as always; but I would also be lying if I said time hadn't done her good. I guess I caught her just coming out of the shower. She was dressed in a red long-sleeved t-shirt, and her hair hung wet on her shoulders, dampening the cloth.
Before I can reply to her greeting she interrupts. "Gods-Wufei?"
"Hey Sally," is all I can manage as her face stares at me, her eyes widened in disbelief. I add as an afterthought, "How have you been?"
Her smile is nothing short of dubious. "You call me after five years just to ask me how I've been?" Her words are satirical, but her smile appears genuine. It may be wishful thinking on my part, but I think it's safe to say she's happy to see me. I'm happy to see her…
I suddenly want her to understand…I want her to know the mistake I made. I want to tell her that she's good and beautiful and deserves to be happy, and I'm sorry I stripped that away from her. I want her to be aware of how happy seeing her just now has made me. I want her to realize that the year I spent with her, holding her, was the best time of my life, and that I would give anything-anything-to go back and change that.
Instead, all I'm able to choke out is a question that tells her nothing and everything all at once. "Would I be out of place…if I said I miss you…"
She turns her brilliant blue eyes away from me, gazing at some random spot on the floor of her house, which is hidden from my view. Half of me wants her to still care for me, while half of me wants her to have moved on with her life. She deserves someone who will stay with her, but-gods, if I could do things over again I would change everything.
"If you are…" she begins and my head whips up, gazing furtively into the screen. She is still staring at the ground, and I think she's crying. I hope I'm wrong…I don't want to hurt her more than I already have.
"If you are out of place…" she repeats, "then I suppose I am as well." Her head lifts and I can see there really are tears in her eyes, though they don't fall.
<Day breaking on the boulevard
Feel the sun warming up your second hand heart.
Light swimming right across your face and you think maybe someday
Well, maybe someday>
A small smile graces my face without my knowledge, but it betrays my pure elation at her simple words. I never knew just how much I had missed her. I should feel weak for hanging onto her every word, but I don't. She strengthens me, and I am ashamed it took me so long to realize it.
"Happy Valentine's day, Sally," I tell her, capturing her gaze through miles of wire and cords.
Better late than never, I suppose. I smile mentally…that sounds like something Sally would say.
Another smile. "Happy Valentine's day, Wufei."
I'm getting a second chance where I had once failed. I never got another chance with Meilan-gods, I don't deserve this. It wouldn't be just if I were never to see Sally again. I have never been gladder for injustice than right at this moment. It has never been so sweet.
"I would like to see you sometime…" I murmur, hoping she can hear me. I would travel all those miles if she would give me another chance…if she would allow me to be close to her once more. I feel hope flooding through my veins, stringing every nerve in my body.
"I would like that," she answered, and one tear brimmed over her eyelid, and I almost reached up to the vid screen…as if I could reach through the miles and wipe it off of her cheek. She could certainly reach across the vid screen and touch my heart…
"I better go now…" I say, not wanting to be abrupt, but I am becoming awfully anxious.
Her brow furrows in confusion. "Why so soon?"
I can't suppress a cheeky grin. "I have a flight to book…"
The smile on her face was absolutely priceless. I feel myself growing excited over the concept of visiting Sally. Finally, I'll be able to tell her everything I should have said, and take back the things that would have been best left unsaid.
The old saying comes to mind: "The future looks bright."
And-gods, does it ever!
<For all you know
Yeah, this could be
The difference between what you need
And what you want…>
A/N: It's finished!!!!! Whoo hoo!!! Oh yeah, if you didn't see the above a/n, "Mon Amour" means "My Love" in French. Just a cute little Valentine's saying I decided to use. I was going to post this today (Feb 14th) but ffnet isn't allowing people to log-in until they finish their move into two sites. That's why I didn't get this out sooner…anywho, please read and send any comments!! Merci beaucoup!
Luvvies, KaT aka Mistress Shinigami