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"Room With A View"Written By: The Plotting Housewife Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I don't own GW, or the
images in the moodboards. Both drabbles and aesthetics are made for
fun and not for profit, or licensed commercial use. Rating: R Warnings: angst Pairings: Wufei, Une, Zechs, Treize (deceased) Summary: Three former soldiers who are unable
to find closure get together once a month to remember the man whose
life and death left an inexplicable, yet significant impact on their
lives. " Chapter 1: The Fallen King" If was for the best. They all knew that. But it still made no difference when it came time to pick up the pieces and move on. The man they knew was far more complicated than the regal and ruthless tyrant the world had been acquainted with. What was necessary for peace became a burden, a curse each of them would carry for the rest of their lives as every beat of their hearts reminded them of the man whose own heart now lay cold and still inside his chest. “Did you know,” Wufei murmured as he hunched over in his chair, a glass of fine cognac spinning idly between his fingers. “That blood looks like sparkling jewels in space?” “I did,” Une assured him as she finished off her own drink. At a glance, Wufei could see the smudged mascara across the porcelain of her cheeks and looked away in shame. It was his fault they were here, in this place. Unable to pretend the ghosts of their victims, of one in particular didn’t loom about them like an ominous storm cloud. Zechs would be joining them soon. He’d requested some time alone to pay his respects and pray away the demons that constantly plagued him. Something they understood all too well. They were demons that plagued them all. Wufei still didn’t understand why he’d agreed to this monthly…whatever it was. Pity party, perhaps? Three losers who didn’t know how to move on. To forgive and forget. Three obsolete souls trapped in a world that no longer required their services. “Rubies,” Une added, startling him from his thoughts. She reached for the snifter and poured herself another drink, her dark eyes distant as she brought the glass to her lips. “They always were his favorite.”
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