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Author’s Note: Just a * sweet * Heero and Relena romance! It’s in Relena’s point of view. Please Review!
Enjoy!
Silence Falls like Rain
~Phoenixstar
~~~
‘Heero is here. He is here with me.
He came here by himself, under his own conditions, under his own power, brought only by his want to be here. After he left for a while, I tried looking for him everywhere. It annoyed me that he would just disappear; that he would be as inconsiderate as to just leave me like that. It became my obsession during the weeks afterwards. I would try everything for just one glimpse of his name on a computer screen, one mention of an incident in which he could be related, one story on the news. I lost sleep and weight, driven by this one desire: him. Sure I had followed him before, but this was different because it was like he didn’t exist anymore.
And perhaps, by trying to know more I was giving up on the one thing I had left. Hope. The hope that he would come back.
When the weeks turned into months I lost interest. The same reports and clips I had watched countless times had nothing left to offer me. His secret was too safe for even the likes of me. I admitted defeat.
Recovering was the hardest part of it all. I had to learn to sit through a whole day without thinking about him, and how much I wanted him in front of me and tell him exactly what I thought and exactly what I needed. I needed to be able to look at a thing, anything, without it reminding me of him in some abstract way. I needed to be able to hear his name and not have to fight the urge to cry or scream. Most of all I needed to be able to realize that I didn’t hold a claim on him.
Of course that’s not to say I lost all hope. I thought I was, everyday I would feel a little bit of it slip away, and everyday, when I thought no one was looking I would look at his picture, write his name, read the reports one more time; just to remember he existed. Obsessions always have the nasty habit of distorting proportion. And even after I had memorised every word of every report about him, and even after his picture was too faded with sunlight and my fingerprints that it was merely the silhouette of a ghost and even after everything, I would dream that someday it would all work out. Logic can’t solve everything. I knew in some distant part of me, where love never truly gives up, that things would work out.
They said I would feel better when it stopped hurting, and they were right. It did; when he came back.
It’s one of those miracles of life, that no matter how long time seems or how you change that some things seem exactly the same. I will tell you, that no matter how anyone else says he did change, in my eyes he looked exactly the same.
I must have looked the biggest idiot when he walked in that door. Everything I had worked on for the past months slipped through my fingers more easily than water. Once again I felt the giddy love-struck teenager that I had been before. And no matter how much I had tried to forget it, it is the most wonderful feeling in the world.
Even now no one knows why he came back. Then again no one wants to ask him, some just don’t care; to them Heero is a product of war, just another survivor trudging along through the after-effects like the rest of us. Some are afraid; even with time Heero’s precious glare hasn’t lost it’s edge. And me, well I don’t want to know because the tides of undying love make you think the most fantastic things, and who am I to bring about the shattering of my dreams? (Or at least some of them.)
Without even being asked, he protects me. From what, I don’t always know. Assassination, kidnapping, blackmail; the famous crimes that I have him protecting me against in my daydreams. To me, we make the best kind of story, although he does his job so well I don’t know whether he’s worried about a car bomb or day-past-fresh milk. Imagination is a wonderful thing is it not? He just wants me to have a normal life just like every other survivor.
A ‘normal’ life. Sounds perfect and quaint to me, perhaps too so. Heero, I imagine, thinks I’m crazy to be doing all this day-in and day-out, meetings and paperwork and stress, but I know he’ll never say anything. He knows what passion and obligation feel like, and even if thinks I’m foolish to put myself through all this, he knows I would say the same about his devotion to risking his life during the wars.
Everyday though it becomes more and more real. Everyday I catch him looking at me for that little bit longer. Everyday I catch him loose a little more concentration in everything else. And I everyday I know that I am a little more in love with him.
His hand brushed mine more often that usual today. The slight rush of air when his passes close by; that small sensation of heat emanating from his hand resting so close, yet not quite close enough; the tingle that runs down my spine when his rough calloused fingers graze mine; it’s funny how such brief things can make the day seem a million times longer.
And I know when I wake up tomorrow that he’ll still be here same as he was today. He’ll never try to prove it to me, he’ll work away until I am asleep, and when I wake up he’ll still be working. But I’ll lie here and think of him, and tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that…
‘Click click; tap tap tap… Click.’
And I always wondered what he does when he knows I’m not sleeping. I just lie here in bed, eyes closed, and pretend that every noise is another letter in the love story of our life that no one else will ever read.
There is no rush.
Heero is here. He is here with me.’