Under the setting sun, the desert is illustrated with those golden
and illusive colors and lights. Warm breeze blows its way across the
land, bringing droplets of sand over the long left foot prints while the
dying sun creates multiple light and dark shadows, dancing in the dimming
light, reaching toward the oasis of the desert.
*Pala!* Drops of water flies and spray in the air as slender fingers dips into it and flicks at the water, creating small soft ripples.
Quatre sits by the swimming pool, his legs dangling by the water, lightly touching the water surface. His long shirt spreads itself around him and onto the ground. He looks up and let the golden sunlight shines on his face.
It is incredible that he feels this kind of new meaning as he faces the next battle.
"He" would be there too right...? At the next battle field, he'll be able to see him again.
His feet kick lightly at the water and creates splashes of white water, it feels good to have the warm breeze on his skin.
He really wants to see him...
When the servant rushes in with the news, Quatre opens his eyes in surprise and turns around. Quatre neglects to paying attention to how slippery the side of the pool is, Quatre loses his balance and with a cry, stumbles into the pool. He feels icy water over his head and wetting him. When Quatre finally gets up from under the water, wet and embarassed, he sees someone leaning against the frame of the door, watching him, his arms folded across his chest.
His whole shirt is wet, when Quatre finally stands up, that silk shirt sticks to his body like glue, wrapping around him, showing the curve of his body, wet ... and transparent.
Quatre wipes away the water on his forehead and arond his eyes before he lifts up his head and sees Trowa walking toward his direction.
"You all right?"
As Trowa pulls him up from the water, his freed hand takes a towel and wraps it around Quatre. Trowa smiles as he starts to wipe the water off Quatre. Quatre keeps his eyes on the ground and watch the water slides down his body, making small puddles on the ground.
Quatre can feels the burning on his cheeks. He can feel his heart beating faster and faster, so unsure, so insecure, but yet so clear.
It's just like a dream, a dream too good to be true, that soft voice, that familiar breath and warmth. Trowa actually appears in admist his longing. Trowa lightly removes Quatre's wet shirt, and gently wraps a blanket around him, the blanket feels of the heat of Trowa's hands, enveloping Quatre's body...
The wet shirt slides down slowly from Quatre's body and falls next to his bare feet. Quatre looks up and Trowa brushes a strand of hair from Quatre's face, before he lightly wraps his arms around Quatre's waist.
A slight breeze blows across the desert land. While the two are standing there silently watching each other with a longing, night has slowly descended.
Desert night, is where the harsh coldness comes fast and strong. Quatre shivers slightly and stares into Trowa's dark green eyes. Even now, as if by fate that they are together, he still can't quite fully comprehend.
Trowa lifts him up tenderly, and before Quatre can react, he is already being carried into the bedroom.
But Trowa doesn't put him on the bed, instead Quatre feels himself being seated on to the table. And before Quatre can regain his balance, Trowa has already pulls him forward to him.
"Ah..."
Quatre leans against Trowa's chest and feels things darken slightly in front of him, he can't help but tighten his grip on the blanket. His bangs rubs lightly against Trowa's collarbone, his dangling legs wrap themselves around Trowa's waist of their own volition. In the silence, Quatre's unsteady breathing can still be heard, softly.
Trowa wipes at Quatre's wet bangs lightly, tilts up his face and kisses his forehead.
"Still so careless, aren't you?"
Spellbound by those eyes and feelings, Quatre feels his breathing becomes irregular, and while he is still trying to regain his composure, Trowa's lips has already descend from his forehead to his lips, the tongue softly licking at Quatre's lips, wanting to part them.
That thirst that is so tender and so releasing...that sweet tasting love, pressing against him, the tongue lightly runs over his eyelids...making his own consciousness become swirls of light and fire...
Trowa has already locked his arm around Quatre's waist, there is no way for Quatre to escape. As he slowly slips his hand downward, the blanket slowly descends and slides down along with it...Quatre shudders and holds on tightly to Trowa's other hand, shaking with uncertainty and fear.
"I want to feel your presence..."
He can feel Trowa's breath by his ear, Quatre shrinks away a little, a worried and fearful frown appears between his brows.
"Therefore...I selfishly come here...of my own will..."
So hot...the heat of the body and ...that of ... conscience...
"....Ah..."
He wants to back away, but his bended knees are captured and held by Trowa, as he feels them slowly being parted.
"Tro...Trowa!...uh!!"
Quatre wants to cry out, he is tremblig so bad now that he can't even support himself. Tender hands hold him gently, among his heavy breathing Quatre seem to smell a bit of blood from Trowa's shoulder.
That wound on the shoulder, it hasn't healed up yet. Quatre brushes his hand against the scar.
Trowa smiles softly, "Oh that? ...I guess you can say that I got that because of you."
That truck...rolling and turning over on the road. Its pieces of wreckage flying in the air as if the end of the world had come. And at that moment, Trowa thought he saw him standing there.
Even faster than reflex, faster than light, Trowa rushed over to cover him....feeling that piece of metal flying past him and grazing his shoulder, leaving behind a long cut. The blond boy in his arms looked up at him, still trembling, but...he was not Quatre...
He wanted to see him.
That sudden longing, just like a sea under the sieging of a violent storm, cannot stop...he really wanted to see Quatre.
I want to, I really want to see you again. Hear your voice, hear you talking to me, feel your tenderness, your moods and emotions, be itof happiness or of sorrow.
"Quatre."
He calls the name over and over again, looking into Quatre's eyes, whose fearful expression has slowly subsided. Quatre wraps his arms around Trowa's neck.
So warm.
Just like this. This is enough... Trowa's love and feeling, my own feeling, there's nothing more to hide or to pretend. That tender but yet deep feeling, perfectly merge into one. This close ... and this embrace...
"Trowa..."
Kissing his cheek as those tender fingertips caress Quatre's face, Trowa looks downward and holds Quatre's wrist.
He brings it up and starts to bite those fingertips gently, those slender and fragile fingers, and licks at the base of his palms, transmitting that irresistable heat. Quatre gives a soft gasp, feeling his silent breathing quickens ever so slightly, Trowa's kiss is invading his senses, invading that burning feeling under the skins of his wrist, as the blood starts to courses in a speed faster than ever before. The desire...the ever thirsting desire cannot be stopped now...
Lips and flesh intertwining and touching, as if teasing the feeling of the body to a new temperature, to a new heat...burning heat, almost sharp and bitingly corrosive...
"Trowa, I..."
Quatre's head snaps back, his golden locks tremble a bit in motion, he closes his eyes. Trowa's fingers entangle in those blond hair, the heat of his body ... engulfing him.
I'm here, Trowa.
I will not go anywhere.
Because, you've come ... Trowa...
"...!!"
Trowa suddenly tightens his hold on Quatre's waist, causing Quatre to gasp in surprise and for air, his own hand squeezes Trowa's.
As Trowa moves lower, Quatre can feel his breathing. Quatre shakes his head, closes his eyes and opens them again, in his eyes is this inexpressible horror. Trowa's expression darkens.
Trowa's other hand pulls Quatre closer, and slowly break away his resistence. Qatre gasps a little in fear, feeling Trowa's burning hand moving palm down along down his leg and grabs his ankle...
"...AH...!!!"
Suddenly, this paralyzing pain shoots through his body, he can feel his heart beating painfully fast and clear, Trowa's heavy breathing awaken his senses, and at the same time take away all his strength.
That scorching, burning pain, invades all his senses, cutting into hsi consciousness ... Quatre bites down on his lips, that extreme pain wraps around him and trapping him like entangled wires and strings, assaulting his conscience. Trowa kisses his throat gently, as if ignoring his plea and lift him a bit more, and embed deeper.
"NO!!!! Trowa--AH!!"
Everything is getting hazy, blank but yet still clear, Trowa's hot breath is that familiar, at this time, that warmth and closeness by his ear, is at the same time so much like that of a stranger--
He feels Trowa pulling out slowly, as if that paralyzing pain inside his body is subsiding bit by bit ... Quatre can finally feel his own breathing again, painfully but slowly, feels as if he is dying and full of horror, and just when it is about to disappear, that piercing pain comes crashing back into him.
"Uh...!"
The fingers again tighten, as Trowa kisses him at the junction of his neck and shoulder.
Again another penetration, its scorching heat piercing through him and burning, planting into him a pain that goes straight to the very core of his being...
Burning so sharply like a knife, turning and twisting into him, until he thinks that he is going to die ... and then he feels Trowa pulling away again, taking away with him that heat of the body pressed so tightly against him, slowly taking away his will and conscience, Quatre feels himself slowly becoming a soul...drying up, feeling that eternal fear inside of a soul, full of a thirst never spoken or known but fear that causes it to be so helpless and empty...
He can no longer breath, he has no more strength, no more voice, when his body and soul are both under the onslaught, he can only moan, letting his conscience give way to this burning passion...
... Trowa ...
Quatre sinks into the mattress, his strength long gone as Trowa gently lower him onto the bed. He can still feel Trowa's not so steady breathing against his neck, his heart still beating fast, and then ... a kiss ...
He hugs Trowa tightly, as Trowa's lips slowly leaves his, leaving behind him a sweet feeling ... those gentle finger tips caressing his face again, Trowa's eyes...so calm but so deep as a dream.
An emotion not needed to be said, softly covers his heated body...
He falls asleep in Trowa's arms.
When Quatre wakes up again, he can already feel the coldness next to him, and the sky has not brightened yet.
Trowa sits in front of the computer, silently reading the new instructions sent from the professor. Quatre turns over lightly, and pretends to be still asleep.
Trowa seems a bit startled and whirls around. He gets up and walks toward the bed. He glances down at the sleeping boy before slowly bending down, his arm wrapping around that slender body and his breath causing those blond bangs to tremble by the slightest bit.
Quatre lets his breathing becomes as easy as possible, pretending as if he is in a deep sleep and feels Trowa kisses him gently on the cheek...
Even until Trowa leaves, until Trowa turns around and glance at him again, Quatre has not moved a bit. Even as Trowa disappear behind that closed door, ever so quietly ....
Goodbye.
Neither of them say it to each other, but it's as if it is not needed, any kind of surface formality, any promises and commitment...
As long as it is in each other's heart.
Finally, after a long, long time, Quatre opens his eyes.
On the table is a small white note. Quatre reaches out and holds it in his hand.
On that piece of paper is a line written compose only of the word:
Quatre
He can feel the heat of that paper slowly spreading into his palm. Quatre slowlly closes his eyes, and kisses that line of words...
It doesn't matter what kind of a promise it is between he and Trowa, he understands Trowa's leaving, just as he understands his return.
The road to future will always be this clear and firm, even if he is to fight alone under the responsibility of a mission, neither him nor Trowa will let himself be pulled back. Emotions play and have no part in a war, they should not interfere...
He reaches out and turns on the computer as he silently returns the message.
Ninmu ryoukai. 0 Day 0 Hour, mission to be carried out.
Another new battle, is still awaiting them, at Siberia...
To be able to meet, is already something that cannot be asked for more...this warmth... Knowing that both sides do not care for having, meaning that a short time of seperation does not stand for an end ... The sand of time will never wipe away the name of each other, but instead will wipe away those times of pain inside each's heart.
It doesn't matter at what time, or what place... a longing so far away, is the calling out from those lonely desert nights, lost in that dark sky and nothingness, just like the trail made by a comet as it descends from the sky, so quickly erased by the dark night sky; but its meaning and longing will stay in the endless era of time, echoing, forever.
Therefore, when he feels himself being pulled out of the water by freaked out and worried Duo, he can also feel his thoughts.
"You-- Are you trying to drown yourself?!"
Quatre can see Duo's face, his expression serious and angry as well as worried, his hand grabbing at Quatre's back collar.
"...uh...."
"I said-- Are you trying to drown yourself?!!! My Quatre-sama!!"
Although Duo's words are full of harshness and scolding, he is tender as he slowly lifts Quatre out of the pool. Quatre can only smiles apologetically as his eyes meet Duo's angry ones.
"You dumbass! Even if you're snorkeling, that's not the way to do it! How can you swim and daydream at the same time? Don't you know---"
Duo is truly angry. He ends up scolding Quatre so badly that the latter can do nothing but grabbing onto his towel and apologizes repeatedly, red faced.
It's true, shortly after he started to swim...
Longing, it can really make a person hurt so bad that he will lose his thoughts and forget what he is doing.
After the mission at Siberia, he and Duo has been staying and guarding this desert base. He can't do anything, and he can't go anywhere either, he has lost too much time already.
He shouldn't have let feelings grow, but he still sinks into that deep water, and let those water surround him like the way Trowa's low voice does, enclosing and folding into him...
Let there be silence. And let that longing to be as silent as the night; because in this calm heart, he shall have the silent commitment he has given Trowa and Trowa has given him in return. Distance, is no matter, it is no longer important.
It doesn't matter how long it takes --
After going through so much changes and pain, and emerging again from that crushing insanity, his heart still tells him, that his longing has not changed a bit.
And because of this, pain and guilt accompany him along with Trowa's tender words, deeply locking up that never-healing heart. Quatre already knows that in this life time, there will no way that he can run away from this feeling, and this sin.
This longing in his heart slowly sinks down, and surpass the wounds from the pass. And on that Peacemilion spacecraft, his passion will once again be unleashed....
By Trowa's hands...
------------------------Thousand Nights (END)---------------------
Note: The title "Thousand Nights" is actually from a song.