Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Soft and Quiet, the absence Hurts ❯ Chapter 1

Pairings: 1+2

Warnings: Sap, angst, shounen ai

Word Count: 458

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The thunder outside is growing. It vibrates in my chest and against the windowpanes. The lightning that follows seems to split the sky in half, tearing through it like not so much paper. I am in bed, and even as I lie here trying to sleep, the rain grows heavier. A shot rings out in the night and its mate illuminates the whole of my room. I clutch tightly to the pillow- his pillow.

In my defense, I am not afraid of thunderstorms. Rather, it's because of his absence that I hold it tightly. The pillow smells like him- like gunpowder and sweat and something all his own.… I miss him; miss hearing the shallow breaths of sleep and the soft rustle of cotton sheets as he moves.

He only smiles when he's sleeping. I think that's what I miss the most.

There was a raid this evening- a base with technology and information that needed `renovations'. I helped him make the bombs, saying it would go quicker that way. Afterward, he disappeared, a shadow in the night and rain. They would never see him coming, but, then again, that's the point isn't it? To me, spending time with him was what mattered.

I don't know when I'll see him next…

There is a certain pull, gravity even, between us. To be friends and partners… For him that's a real show of trust. I return this gesture wholly, knowing how few have been in my place, willing to do anything in my power to help him; to break through the layers of ice left by the training and solitude. To deny my love for him would be a lie, but I'm not ready to admit to it. I won't say how much I miss him either, and that doesn't make it any less true. What we do or do not say doesn't matter for now- with the war going on, a person can't always rely on words. By being there for him, I can do without the rest until the time comes when promises may be made. Promises… without the fear of them being broken.

The rain has slowed, becoming no more than a spattering of water; no worse than what still drip from the trees once it quits altogether. The thunder has gone as well, leaving only the yellow-grey of the clouds to peer in through the glass of my window. In spite of all of this, I still hug tight to his pillow. It's soft and warm against my cheek, and the scent of him is taken in with every breath. To fall asleep, as the rain tapers further… I manage it, and, sinking into the darkness of dreams, I know I will see him again.