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"Heero the Muse"Written By: Emerald Pillow
Pairings: 3x1x3 Summary: Trowa is a writer in his spare time. Heero hasn't read any of Trowa's works but is curious to do so. Trowa , on the other hand, doesn't particularly want Heero to read what he writes as he has some dark secret lurking in the text of his books. Rating: R Heero the Muse
Chapter 6 Heero stopped dead in his tracks as he stared down the hall. At first, he thought that his eyes were playing tricks by seeing Trowa step from the twin's room. He couldn't bring himself to believe that Trowa would turn to a teenager to aid the stance that Heero left him with. Yet, Heero couldn't think of another reason. Brittany smiled warmly as she waved and watched Trowa enter his own room. Heero stood there a moment, trying to find reason behind Trowa's visit to the blonde. That's when he remembered the books. Trowa must have wanted to return them to her. That meant that Heero wouldn't' be able to read them. Pushing this fact aside, he headed to his room. Now, he pondered how Trowa would react to him. It was definitely cruel to have left him hard the way he did. In truth, Heero felt guilty for doing it, at the same time, he hadn't been sure why he did. Trowa looked up as Heero entered. Their eyes locked for a moment, as if holding a silent conversation. Trowa was the one to break it by lowering his eyes. "Heero, I'm sor-" "There's a bar two blocks west of here with pool tables. Want to go shoot a couple of games?" He was avoiding it. Somehow, Trowa knew he would. It was easier to avoid. Part of Trowa wanted to say 'yeah' and act as if nothing had happened. At least that way, things between them wouldn't be affected. However, another part of him remembered that it did happen, and if he pushed it away, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. At the same time, he didn't want to push Heero either. Pushing him could result to losing. "If you don't feel like it, we don't have to." Heero continued after noting turmoil in Trowa's stance. "It's not that." Trowa assured, but kept his gaze from Heero. There was a short pause after this. Heero knew what Trowa was talking about. He leaned against the wall, searching for a way to say what he was thinking and feeling. "I know it was harsh, and I'm sorry I did that to you." Trowa looked up, slightly surprise. He didn't expect Heero to apologize. "It's just. . .it happened so fast, and I didn't have a chance to think. I. . .I got intimidated." By saying 'intimidated', he meant scared. Trowa could tell that in his voice. It was the first time Heero opened up to him, telling him how he felt. It was taking a lot of courage for him to say that much. He was uncomfortable with it, and Trowa wanted to ease it for now. "Do you still want to go to that bar?" He asked and pushed from the bed. Heero studied him a moment before agreeing. He watched as Trowa retrieved his coat from the closet before speaking. "What were you doing next door?" "I was returning her books. . .plus, I got those." He stated and nodded toward an envelope laying on the desk. Curious, Heero picked it up, and opened. Inside were two negatives and four pictures. Trowa stepped next to him and reached over his shoulder to pluck out one picture, then turned from Heero. "Do as you wish with the rest." He looked down at the photo of them. If one didn't know better, they would say that the couple was having an intimate conversation with one another. A smile pulled at Trowa's lips. "I'm keeping this one." "Why? We see each other in real life." "True, but I need some kind of souvenir of this trip." "That's why they have gift shops." Trowa smirked and looked over his shoulder to his friend. "Don't you think it's a good concept for the cover of my last book?" Heero scowled at the suggestion. Despite that, he was glad to see that Trowa was no longer upset. "How did you manage to get them from her?" "I just asked." "And she gave them up?" "Well. . .yeah. I also warned her that she would lose all of her pictures from this trip. She had 15 rolls of film sitting on the desk. You would have had to destroy them all in order to get the right one. I didn't want her to cry." The bed was empty again. Heero sat up straight, wondering if he was losing his touch. It was the second night in a roll that Trowa had been up and wandering around the room without his knowing. Either the Latin had gotten better with his stealth skills, or Heero was seriously slacking off his detection knack. Something caught the corner of his eyes, and he turned toward the windows. Trowa was laying on the floor, asleep. A spiral notebook laid close to his head, and a pen in his hand, still poised over the paper where he had stopped writing. Heero stared at the scene a moment, thinking of how cute Trowa looked laying there; lost in the comfort of his world, even when asleep. Pushing from bed, he stepped over to Trowa. After pulling the pen from his loose grip, he laid it down, and scooped Trowa into his arms. He proceeded to carry the Latin to the bed to lay him down. It was still early. There was no real sense in waking him; especially since he hadn't slept much in the pass two nights. Curious, he then seized the spiral notebook laying on the ground. Once again, the writing was slightly crooked, compared to the blue lines that they were suppose to follow. Then again, that was the price paid for writing in the dark. Heero was genuinely impressed. The one subject notebook was two pages away from being filled. Trowa had written almost 70 pages, front and back. He had also cramped as much as possible in the top and bottom margins. Like before, the print was small in order to get more on the page. Where normal people focused one sentence on each line, Trowa managed two. Closing the book, he looked back at Trowa and thought about what Jamie had said. Maybe he really was a type of Muse to his friend. Sighing, he stood straight and laid the notebook on the desk. As much as he wanted to read it, he forced himself not to. He dressed quickly and slipped on his shoes. Yesterday, while roaming, he had come across a book store that opened early. If luck was with him, he might be able to find Trowa's book there. Just as he opened the door to his room, he was greeted with a familiar pair of golden eyes. Based on her attire that morning, he understood that it was Brittany. She blushed deeply, as she jutted an item toward Heero. It was 'Parade of Masks'. "We're getting ready to check out and head home, and I wanted to give this to you." She stated quickly as if she was afraid of what he might say. "When it first came out, I got two for my birthday. I was planning on keeping both, but Trowa said that you haven't read it yet. . .and I really think you should." Heero studied her a moment. It seemed odd that she was willing to part with such an item. . .even if it was a double. After the way she acted over Trowa, it was fair to say that anything she owned that was related to him in any way was like a treasure to her. "Why are you doing this?" "I don't really need two, and I know they're hard to come by. . .besides. . .I really, really think you should read it. I'm just sorry that I don't have two of 'March of Cowls'. You get a lot more into the emotions with that one. . .but somehow, I think you'll understand." Heero still seemed skeptical. "Just think of it as a way of saying 'I'm sorry' for upsetting you yesterday. Please take it." Not knowing what else to do; Heero accepted the gift. "At least, let me pay you for it." "No, it's okay. Trowa already did that." She smiled brightly and bounced down the hall toward the elevators. Heero looked down at the book, then back to Trowa. He couldn't help but wonder how, exactly, did Trowa pay for the book. Deciding to find out later, he stepped back into the room, closed the door, and settled onto Trowa's still untouched bed. Flipping pass the pages he already read, he picked up where he left off. Trowa slowly opened his eyes to find Heero sitting on his bed, reading his book. Now fully awake, he sat up straight, catching Heero's attention. The Japanese man was more than half way done with the thick book. For the second time that trip, Trowa panicked. Heero wasn't suppose to read it now, especially after what happened yesterday. He was suppose to read it at home, where Trowa wouldn't have to watch in torture. "Where'd you get that?" He blurted, sounding more nervous than he wanted. "Brittany gave it to me this morning. She said that you paid for it." Trowa could only stare. After getting the film developed, she swore that she would pay him back somehow. Now he knew what she meant. She believed strongly that Eric should tell Nash, one way or another, how he felt. Since she made the connection between fiction and real life, she made sure 'Nash' was told. Trowa slumped back to the bed, burying his face in the pillows and wishing he hadn't told Brittany anything. "She thought I should read it. . .is there anything wrong with it?" He sounded hurt. If Trowa didn't know any better, he would have placed his money on that assumption. He shifted his position slightly so that his voice would be understandable. "No." How could he tell Heero that he was embarrassed? Surely, Heero would just laugh at him for being childish. "You don't want me to read your material." "It's not that." "Then what?" "I'm afraid you won't like it." "I can see why it doesn't stay on shelves." Heero commented and returned his gaze to the book. Trowa wished that he could sink into the soft mattress and disappear. Only one fear clutched at his heart. "Did she give you 'March of Cowls' too?" That was the one that Trowa feared the most of Heero's thoughts about. 'Parade of Masks' only introduced the characters, told a little about their history and how they came together. The second one, 'March of Cowls', develed more into Eric's feelings and thoughts of Nash. . .how being around each other affected him. It was that book that told every single emotion that had been building inside Trowa for as far back as he could remember. If Heero possessed 'March of Cowls', no doubt, it would be read by the end of the conference that afternoon. "No. She only had doubles of this one." Trowa relaxed a little at the revelation. Then there wasn't really any harm done. . .yet. "I never knew you could write like this Trowa. How did Jamie learn of it?" "Catherine came across it. She thought it was good, so she told Manager. Jamie is Manager's niece." "Somehow, I don't see you giving her something like this to read." "It was in the trash." "You were going to throw it out?" Trowa sat up in bed, but kept his eyes to the blankets. "It may sound weird, but sometimes thoughts and feelings latch onto me. I try ignoring them, or pushing them away, but it doesn't always work. Someone suggested writing, so I did. It helped get rid of things that's been bottled up for so long. I sorta became addicted to writing. . .to the point that I started to carry a notebook with me. . .and I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night to write, that is, if I even go to sleep." "It's not weird. Everyone needs some way to express themselves. I know now why you don't want to expand. There's just too much here that hits home, and you're not one to talk much about these type of things. I'm just curious about one thing." "Hn?" "You switch between Eric and Nash; looking into their own thoughts and feelings almost equally. However, Nash's is always based on facts and observations. . .Eric's are his actual feelings, and what he thinks is going on. Why can't you do the same for Nash? You're writing in third person, so it would be just as easy to look into Nash's thoughts as it is Eric's." Heero already knew the answer to his question. He just wanted to hear what Trowa had to say. "To tell you the truth, I don't really know what Nash thinks or feels about anything." "He's your character." "He's his own character. They all are; they're just telling me their story. . .I'm just writing it." "Doesn't his actions tell you anything?" "It tells me that he's confused. . .does that mean you disapprove it the book?" "No. I find it interesting." Heero sat the book on the night stand and slid off the bed. "I can see why they want to include this in a psychology class." He sat next to Trowa, staring intently into emerald. "They both been through so much. It's a shame that it's their scars that bind them. . .at the same time, that's what makes it a romance." Trowa didn't move while under Heero's gaze. He was afraid that if he did, another scene like yesterday would unfold. He didn't want to go through that again; especially without knowing if Heero would react the same way. "Do you think they deserve to be together?" He had taken a chance to ask the question. There was no mistaking that Heero really knew what Trowa was writing about. The silence to follow was agonizing. Clearly, Heero was profoundingly considering his answer. "That depends on what else happens." With that, Heero pushed to his feet. For the first time in the conversation, he was speaking about the book instead of them. Trowa bowed his head and forced himself not to cry in front of Heero. He found that he was starting to feel the same way as yesterday, when Heero pulled from him; excluding the pain of being aroused. Knowing he couldn't keep his tears back for long, he climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Heero watched, but didn't say anything. He wasn't sure why, but he was starting to feel sad as well. He looked down at the book. If he would have known that Trowa's true heart was sealed in every page, he wouldn't have read it. It was obvious to him now why Trowa had been so reluctant to have him read it in his presence. Picking it from the table, he shoved it into his carry on bag for the flight home. He wouldn't hurt Trowa any more than he already had. He then slumped onto Trowa's bed, wondering why it had to be him. All this time, he had no ideal that Trowa was interested in him. He thought for sure, that they were only friend. All this time, Trowa had been hiding it from him because he feared Heero's rejection. That's why he had asked Heero to accompany him. This weekend would be the finale of his books. He was studying Heero for some sort of sign for resolution, not only to the story, but his own heart.
"Are you sure you don't want me to catch tomorrow's flight with you?" Heero asked suddenly without looking at the man next to him. "It's okay. All I'm going to do is finish transferring and hand it over to Jamie. . .besides, you have to work tomorrow." Heero nodded as the cab pulled up at the departure terminal. After putting the cab into park, the driver hopped out and headed toward the trunk to retreat Heero's bag. "Just do me one favor." Trowa barely whispered, and Heero looked over at him for the first time since they climbed into the cab. "I placed a copy of 'Cowls' in your bag. Read it. Then, if, you still want to go to Earth, give me a call. If you don't, I'll understand." "Why wouldn't I still want to go?" Trowa didn't answer, he only stared intently at the back of the driver seat. Heero understood what he was thinking. "About yesterday. . ." "Don't say anything unless you mean it. Think about it first. . .then tell me." Heero nodded and climbed from the back seat. After closing the door, he looked back at Trowa. At first, he expected his friend to wait with him until his flight boarded, but he could see that wasn't going to happen this time. "Later." He called softly, and Trowa nodded, not fully trusting his voice. From the corner of his eye, he watched Heero accept his bag from the cab driver before turning to head into the air port. Closing his eyes, his tears started to spill. He lightly clutched his heart, hoping to stop the pain inside. "Please don't be Nash, Heero." He whispered softly as the cab driver slid back into the front seat. "Where to buddy?" He asked in a friendly tone. "Back to the hotel." Heero looked over his shoulder as the cab pulled away. He could easily see Trowa's bowed head. . .could have sworn that he had seen tears too. He should have gone back with him to the hotel. Something in the depths of Heero's being told him that he should have, but he pushed it aside. Trowa could handle himself, no matter what could happen. Continuing to tell himself this, he entered the check in line. It moved relatively easy, and twenty minutes later, Heero was sitting in the waiting area for the boarding call. To keep his mind occupied, he pulled out the book that Brittany had given him. There wasn't much left for him to read. After Trowa had gone into the shower that morning, he pulled it from his carry on bag and read until the Latin finished. Before Trowa had come out, the book was back in his bag as if it was never taken from there in the first place. He had finished the first book in no time. It was half way into the second book that his reading was interrupted. The interruption was caused by a cheerful blonde Arab. Heero looked up at Quatre stood before him. "Hello Heero. It's good to see you again." Heero's eyes quickly pulled from Quatre to his female companion. She was a thin woman with shoulder length blonde hair hugging her heart shaped face and a set of deep blue eyes. She stood an inch taller than Quatre, but shared his same warm expression. As Heero stared at her, he couldn't help but notice that she was definitely beautiful. "What brings you to this part of the Colony?" "Trowa had a signing this weekend." Quatre appeared surprised. "Really? How'd it go?" "You didn't know anything about it?" Quatre shook his head and Heero wondered why Trowa hadn't told him anything. Quatre stood straight and placed his index finger on his chin, the way he always did while deep in thought. "I guess Trowa just didn't want to mention the conference because he knew that I had a business meeting this weekend. Well, did you have fun?" Heero's eyes switched from Quatre to the woman standing behind him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't introduce you." With that, he extended his hand toward his companion. "Heero Yuy, I'd like you to meet Dr. Lisa Davis." Heero looked at the woman, wondering if it was the same Lisa that Trowa was talking with yesterday, or if it was a coincidence. "So you're the Heero Yuy I've heard so much about." It was her. Heero recognized the voice. What was she doing with Quatre? She extended her hand to Heero for a shake, but he only stared at her. "What field do you work in?" Heero asked in a venomous tongue. Lisa smiled to keep herself from cringing under his stare. "Mental health." "You're a psychologist?" Lisa nodded. "Lisa's my older sister." Quatre added in. "We just bumped into each other in the air port. I didn't really expect to find her here." Heero stood straight, trying to make sense of what he had just learned. Lisa looked at the book in his hand and her interest sparked. "Good choice of reading material. I'm assuming that you already read the first book." She sounded smug, as if she knew something that he didn't. Heero narrowed his eyes at her. He wasn't sure what, but there was something about her that he didn't like. "What do you think of it?" "Flight B157 nonstop to St. Donte now boarding. . ." Heero picked up his carry on bag. The crowd that had been sitting in the area stood to their feet and began shuffling toward the terminal. "I think it's none of your damn business." He snapped deftly as if he was talking to an enemy. That said, he too joined the crowd to board. Lisa appeared shocked at his response. All she could do was stare after him. Heero attempted to push her presence from his mind. She really was beautiful. . .and he couldn't stop thinking of the tone Trowa carried when he spoke with her. Though it had been a short conversation that Heero overheard, it was long enough to catch a hint as to what was really going on. Lisa was Trowa's girlfriend. She had to be. Why else would they have talked so softly with one another. Then there was the fact that Trowa wasn't willing to tell Heero about her. If that was true, then why did he want to have sex with Heero yesterday? Why did Trowa kiss him so lovingly? He had to have been caught up in the moment. . .but why had he started it if he was seeing someone else? Why was he willing to go alone with Heero to Earth? Wasn't HE the one that Trowa wanted? Wasn't HE the Muse? The Nash that's so cold hearted, and so much in love with. . .Heero looked down at the book. Wasn't Trowa in love with him? Maybe he was with her because he didn't want to be alone. Perhaps he wasn't really with her at all. . .maybe she was just his therapist. Then why didn't he tell Heero that he was seeking help? Why would he hide something like that from his best friend? At that moment, he remembered the tears that Trowa had shed over the pass three days. He had never seen his friend cry before. Though he didn't always witness the act, the red puffy eyes afterwards told the whole story. He had been emotional all weekend. Nervousness. . .fear. . .embarrassment. . .loneliness. . .hurt. "Sir, your boarding pass please." Heero looked up at the lady before him. She held her hand out to accept his ticket. . .but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to hand it over. "You do have a boarding pass, don't you sir?" Heero pulled the pass from his pocket and laid it in her hand. He felt numb. Thoughts could no longer occupy his mind. . .he pushed them away. Like a sheep, he followed the herd into the passage that would lead to the plane. It's what his mind always did when he thought too much about emotions or how he felt. Slumping into his seat, he slid his bag under the seat in front of him, and relaxed. Closing his eyes, he leaned against the head rest and realized how exhausted he suddenly felt. In six hours, he would be back in his small apartment, that tried so hard to be as normal as everyone else's. The apartment was neat. Everything had a place, and everything in it's place. He never owned furniture before; now he did. He wasn't sure why he had gotten so much. He never really used half of it. . .no one ever came to see him. . .except Trowa when the circus was in town. . .and Duo, when his job permitted it. By this time tomorrow, he would be back at his job. The same old job, doing the same thing everyday. That didn't really sound appealing. He slowly opened his eyes and caught action in the corner of it. A young couple sat across the asle from him. The female was nervous about the flight. Her visage was a dead give away. Her boyfriend held her hand in reassurance that everything would be fine. Looking in the opposite direction, he found an elder couple. A smile of comfort and happiness were on both their lips. Their hands were cupped together, fingers intertwined. Suddenly, Heero felt that he was in some sort of movie. To test his theory, he looked behind him to find a woman with two children. The children were nearly running amuck, if it wasn't for their stern father, they would have. Once he took control, the children settled and the mother relaxed. Slumping into his seat, Heero closed his eyes again to block out the images surrounding him. Though he could no longer see them, he could hear them. He considered reading, but somehow, he knew that the contents wouldn't be too far from what was going on around him. Just the same, he pulled the book from his bag, and opened it. It was then that he noticed something he hadn't before. The dedication. . . To the inspiration of my creativy, and my heart. . .Wing
G. "Sir, are you all right?" He tried to calm Heero, but the Japanese man pushed pass him. He couldn't leave. . .at least not yet. Sighing, Trowa pushed the door opened to his hotel room. Every question asked was expected. How he got the name 'Nanashi'? How will the third book end? Will Nash and Eric finally settle things between them? When will the next book be out? Why was he continuing with the strange hand gestures? Was there anyone special in his life? What did he get the most out of writing his book? Who was 'Wing G.'? Those were just a few. Trowa had no ideal that so many questions could fly at him in a short half an hour. Tossing the card keys on the television, he flicked on the bedside lamp. He was glad for the sudden silence. "His heart pounded rapidly. Pumping a sensation through him that had yet to be named. A sensation too profound to be deemed love, and would have a counter reaction stronger than heartache." Trowa jumped and spun around to find Heero sitting on his bed. A million questions ran through his mind, but he could speak. "Nash was only inches from his lips now. His body nearly buckled under the pressurable desire that scared him and strength him at the same time. He searched the enclosing cobalt with silent pleads and prayers of their torturous separation to come to an end. They both knew that the only way to not be alone was to be together. Continuing with his traditional cold ways, Nash pulled from the desired touch. He had waited so long for a chance to finally feel something other than emptiness, but now faced with the opportunity, only two words spilled from his lips. . . 'I can't. .' "For a brief moment, that felt like a lifetime, Eric couldn't breath, let alone think. Tears filled his eyes, but a life lived like his didn't allow them to shed. 'Why?' Eric questioned, while finding strength in the deep eyes of the only man that could make him feel alive. Nash didn't respond. It was a question they both already knew the answer to. They were both broken, and it was because of that that neither knew how to mend the other. In his silence, Nash turned and walked away, leaving Eric to crumble to his knees. The heart that once pumped a wonderful sensation, was now only spreading something worse than misery and loneliness. 'Why?' He questioned again, only this time, it was a question for life's cruelty. . .not Nash." Heero closed the book and laid it next to him. He slowly looked up at Trowa, who was still standing where he was when Heero had started reading the passage out loud. This was the reason Trowa hadn't really wanted Heero to read his work. The cobalt eyes held no hint as to what Heero thought or felt about it. Trowa refused to believe that the Japanese man was too ignorant to not catch what everyone else missed. He couldn't help but wonder what the other would say. Heero pushed to his feet and walked toward Trowa. Just as described in the book, Trowa took on the role of Eric. He only hoped that Heero would act differently than Nash had. On the out side, he was as calm as always. Inside, he was a scramble of thoughts and feelings. "That's a shitty way to end the second book." Heero stated firmly. Trowa was taken aback. He didn't expect Heero to have read both books in one day. Still, he took the comment personally. Mainly because it was how Heero had left him the last few times they had parted. Heero stared deeply into green, causing all of Trowa's thoughts to vanish. "And still it's the type of ending that leaves them wanting more. Do they come together in the third book?" "I don't know." Trowa breathed truthfully. Despite all that he wrote over the pass few days, he was still lacking a proper ending; actually, he was lacking a ending altogether. "Do you want them together?" Trowa lightly closed his eyes and lowered them from Heero. It still bothered him that the Japanese man held unknownst power over his emotions. "More than anything." There was a quick dramatic pause, before Heero shattered it. "Then write it." "Just because it's written doesn't mean it's real." "Just because it's real doesn't mean it can't be
written." He lightly cupped Trowa's chin in his hand to lift
his face. He was shocked to find tears hidden deep within the emeralds.
"Just the same. . .let's make it real." Without hesitating,
he pulled Trowa's mouth onto his.
Chapter 7
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