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"Thirty One Days "Written By: The Plotting Housewife Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sotsu
and associated Parties. This work is written for pleasure not profit. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: drabbles, Thirty One Days of Drabbles,
Three Paragraph Fics, drabble challenge Pairings: Trowa Barton, Duo Maxwell,
Heero Yuy, Quatre Raberba Winner, Chang Wufei Summary: A challenge of three paragraph drabbles for thirty one days. Tags will be added when new drabbles are posted and rating may be subject to change. Notes: Trowa/Quatre, Warning for dubious consent. "Thirty One Days " Chapter 7: Show Me the Way Sweat rolls down my forehead and drips from my brow onto your flushed skin. I watch you through half-lidded eyes as my forceful thrusts bounce you across the bed. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your teeth clenching at the pain. Besides that and your fingers curled tightly into the bed covers, the rest of your body remains limp, pliable. You didn't protest when I threw you down, your back hitting the springs protruding from the worn mattress. You didn't protest when I ripped your shirt open, sending buttons rolling across the floor. You didn't protest when I yanked your pants down and forced my way inside you, despite the fact that I knew you'd never been taken before. You take everything I throw at you. Why? Why do you allow me to hurt you? You say because I've earned the right after the way I was hurt, but that cannot be the real reason. I don't buy it. No matter how many things I can see in you through this strange connection we share, that is something you hold back from me and I wish to God I could break through the barriers in your mind the way I broke through your body. I hate that you can read everything about me, but I can't get inside you the way I want. Why won't you let me in? So I get inside you any way I can and you let me even though it hurts you. It hurts me, too. Did you ever consider that? You must have because you know everything about me. And I have been hurt, many times and in many different ways. You know that, too. I wish I could figure out what you are and how you know these things. I don't know what I'm doing. Using you as an outlet for the pain and suffering I've been through, I suppose. But, you've suffered too, haven't you? And you're suffering now because of me. I'm sorry about that, but I can't stop. Not until you tell me why you let me hurt you. What will it take? More pain? As I reach my orgasm, I lean down and bury my face into your neck, whimpering because what are we doing to each other? Please, tell me, I say. But you don't answer. You never do.
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