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"Agglomeration"Written By: The Plotting Housewife Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sotsu
and associated Parties. This work is written for pleasure not profit. Rating: R Warnings: aoi, Fluff, Cheese (Like melted Velveeta,
man. It's cheesy) Pairings: 3x4 Summary: Trowa loves reading his 'Archer'. "The Archer " Trowa blamed Cathy. Her sudden and unexpected obsession with the Zodiac was the reason why he found himself killing time in his trailer between performances reading the tarot and mapping out Quatre's horoscope. He found his own rather fascinating as well and was surprised to discover it was almost unerringly accurate. Moody, caring, and nurturing, he realized how much he identified with his Cancer sign. He was calm like his element, soothing like the gentle ripple of water that washed along a sandy shoreline. Thanks to Cathy, he now knew when his birthday was and he didn't realize how much he'd craved to know that until he finally possessed the precious information. Of course, being Roma, astrology was a staple of their culture, but neither he, nor Cathy had given it much stock until recently. Cathy had had her fortune read several months back and Catalina, their resident fortune teller, informed her that she would soon meet her future husband. The fact that Cathy did indeed meet the man she would marry only three weeks later had sealed the deal in her mind. Quatre had laughed when Trowa first did a tarot reading on him. Giggled when Trowa's finger traced lightly along the lines of his palm, the touch tickling. He'd said Trowa looked so cute when he was concentrating on his predictions, his brows converged in intense focus. But, what Trowa most enjoyed were the readings of Quatre's sign. It was beautifully fitting. The Archer. Extroverted, driven, optimistic, philosophical. True to his fire element, he was strong-hearted and feisty. These were just some of the traits that Trowa had come to love in the blond. Sharing a quiet moment curled up in Trowa's tiny bed with the sheets tangled around their legs, he would take the hand of his love and read his palm, gently kissing the soft spots and the callouses. Quatre would smile fondly at him, his eyes sparkling in the dim lighting. "And," *kiss*, "this one," *kiss*, "says you will marry me someday." *kiss* Quatre tilted his head, his expression playful. "Does it now?" "Only if you say ‘yes'." "Trowa Barton, are you proposing?" Trowa's face was flushed, his trepidation obvious. "Maybe...yes." Quatre turned his palm back to face Trowa. "And does this line have your answer?" He examined the skin closely. "It does." "And what does it say?" His lips curled up, the smile spreading across his face, the joy reaching every nook and cranny in his body. "It says yes."
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