"The Darkest Reflection"

Written By: Impish

Rating: strong R

Pairings: main 1+2+1, background 2+3, OFC+5 and 4+3

Category: Duo POV with angst, action, drama and politics.

Warnings: creepiness, more graphic images and gore

Summery: The earth sphere has moved on into an age of peace, but Duo is fighting battles of his own. He has reluctantly joined the Preventers, and is surprised to see Heero sign up as well. With an assassin on the loose and an increase in suspicious activity, he’s beginning to realize the fine line between genius and insanity, and how easily it can be erased.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing. Surprise! And none of the songs or titles belong to me, either.

Notes: Duo isn’t an alcoholic… I just happened to be listening to “Beer” by Cory Morrow (Texas Country at its best) while writing the first half of the chapter (and if you’ve ever heard the song, that really does explain everything). Oh, and just to be clear, the party is for some other public holiday, not Relena’s birthday.

"The Darkest Reflection"

CHAPTER 6: Dig Ophelia

“O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!”
- Shakespear, (Hamlet, III, i)


I have been to the Presidential Palace on several occasions, but the functions held there never fail to impress. They’re like the set of a play or something. A bit over done, but still pretty incredible. Everything from the lights to the food and the music is coordinated just so, all the outfits are displayed like costumes, and the entire evening tends to move like a script.

We would like to think we have rehearsed sufficiently and that all will go as planned. We step into our roles and forget we’re only pretending, forget that life isn’t a play.

The nice thing about ostentatious gatherings is the plethora of alcoholic beverages. The bad part is just about everything else, especially the fact that I really needed that alcohol to get through the night without stabbing some self-important official in the eye with a toothpick from a finger sandwich. Which was unfortunate, since I couldn’t drink with any of the pills I had been taking, no matter how much I wanted to get obliterated to endure the evening.

Heero and I walked up the imposing steps to the palace entrance in unison, the sheer number of them having me convinced that they might have kept Oz from attempting to storm the building during the war. Glancing over at my silent partner, I noticed a small frown adorning his features. Any number of matters might have been the reason for it to linger there- anything from the recent flood of cases to the few drops of rain now that promised to turn into a storm before the night was through. Or maybe he was just looking forward to this about as much as I was.

Made me feel bad, since it was my fault he was even here. “Hey, Heero…”

He looked at me through his mess of bangs without replying.

“I know I’m driving, but watch how much you drink, woudja? These stairs are steep, and you’re not as light as you look.”

He gave me a low chuckle and even kept a smile on his face as we entered through the ornate foyer.

“Duo, why are we even here? I know you hate these things, and I certainly don’t enjoy them.”

I paused before answering him. The security was as tight as either of us could have hoped for, and where I heard a few guests grumble at the inconvenience, I knew Heero was put much more at ease by the measures taken for the security procedures. Which would make for me having a much more pleasant evening.

I finally looked at him, and the words seemed to spill out of my mouth. “I told Dorothy I’d be here. And I promised Relena I’d ask you to come.”

“Relena? But she’s not even here.” He pointed out.

“I know, but I still told her you were going to be at an official engagement. So I had to ask.” I shrugged.

I didn’t know whether to call his expression surprised or confused. “You keep in touch with Relena? I haven’t even spoken with her since about a month after I left Sanq over a year ago.”

Ok, really not wanting to go there. “…Kind of. It’s a long story.”

Fortunately, the conversation ended there and we waded through the crowd of penguins and peacocks until I spotted Collette on the edge of the dance floor on the arm of her longtime boyfriend, a wealthy young man whose family was intimately connected to the Noventas. I think I had heard that that Silvia girl’s mother was his aunt. Something like that. In any case, he and Relena had been childhood friends, and he had met Collette at a gala between the wars.

“Duo!” Collette exclaimed, giving me a hug when she noticed us. She stepped back and looked me over almost suspiciously. “You look like a cheap whore.”

“You look like a cadaver!” I responded as if it surprised me. It was our usual sort of greeting whenever either of us had to dress up for anything.

“Oh, Heero, too! Heero, this is my boyfriend, Velimir Dermar. Vel, this is Heero Yuy. He’s Duo’s partner now.”

Vel shook Heero’s hand with a friendly smile, and I noticed that his other hand never moved from Collette’s waist.

I studied the giggling Collette more closely. “Are you drunk already?” I asked accusingly.

“No!” She protested vehemently, then finished off her champagne with a lingering gulp. “Now I’m drunk.”

Hoo boy. I grinned at Vel, which he returned with good humor, “If you gentlemen would excuse us momentarily, I would like to get at least one dance in with the lady before she is incapable of it.”

“Vel!” Collette pouted, an expression she really only used when sloshed. “I’m only letting that go because I’m not quite sure if it was insulting or sweet at this point.” He led her on the dance floor, his expression tenderly amused. Collette’s dress was an elegant sea green design, but it absolutely paled in comparison to the light in her eyes when she looked back at him (although that might have been the alcohol). Even after three years of dating, they still held that really sappy glow usually reserved for newer couples.

“Ugh, can you believe them? Out of all the stuck-up trust-fund babies and politicians that come to these things, Collette manages to find her soul mate.”

Heero smiled quietly at me, and said, “It does seem to be what everyone is searching for.”

“I guess.” I said, absentmindedly. I then turned and studied him critically. “You need something to drink. We need to get you a drink.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

Heero humor.

“Of course. I can’t drink, so you have to do the job for me.” I winked. I went to grab his elbow, but changed course to just turn with the expectation that he would follow me.

Spotting a bar set up along one wall, I tossed a grin over my shoulder and began deftly weaving through the crowd. Heero followed the challenge to keep up, and managed to stay right with me without knocking any toupees off.

Arriving at our destination, Heero turned to the bartender and ordered his drink.

“Scotch guy, are you?” I asked, trying to get a look at the top shelf labels.

“Usually. Although I considered La Reserva. It’s not often you get that kind of tequila at an open bar.”

“And what made you consider otherwise?” I held my grin in check behind the words.

He smirked at me openly. “Those stairs.”

I laughed more loudly than I probably should have, judging by the glances we received. The bartender returned with his drink in the same moment that Collette and Vel returned from their dance. We made casual conversation until Delegate Gustav Bosch came to exchange greetings with Vel, who politely introduced us to him, although he really needed no introduction. We’re all Preventers, ok? We know who all the politicians are. It was interesting to meet this particular one obviously, since his party was the one funded by Solar Industries. Bosch was reasonably young for a politician, maybe in his early forties, and tall and fit with attractively graying hair. He introduced us to his date, a young woman in an impeccable designer gown.

He didn’t reveal anything useful to me, mostly allowing his date to carry the conversation on about the amiability of the evening thus far, the President’s lovely speech, and other sorts of pleasantries. She was very well trained.

Another couple joined us, this one a younger man with a great deal of product in his hair and a young woman who might have been Julie’s sister for all her looks and mannerisms. As soon as I made that mental connection, I strongly reconsidered making use of the bar. The impulse strengthened further when the new arrival began to actually enter the conversation. His manner of speaking was flamboyant, giving me the impression that though his head was indeed full, someone somewhere was missing a great deal of feathers. I had to give him some credit, though, that he could manage to go on for so long about nothing at all.

Eventually, the man’s arm decoration proved more intelligent than I had initially given her credit for, smoothly changing the subject to a project on L2 Bosch was endorsing. The premise was gathering weapons such as mobile suits from the war and re-designing them to be used in peace time, a very ambitious project which would boost L2’s economy substantially.

It was still in the early stages, and I was interested to hear the details of the plans. Unfortunately, the new arrival was capable of turning even a positive subject as that into ignorant supposition. He babbled on unendingly, both his attitude and his blatant insinuations being the reason I hated these events. They were nothing but a huge ballroom half-full of people who thought like he did. There was no way he had been voted into whatever position he held; it had to have been inherited. Only Heero’s presence at my side kept me from shoving a napkin ring down his throat.

I managed to instead, to react more politely, by giving Heero an apologetic smile and easily disappearing into the crowd, wandering away until spotting Dorothy surrounded by ladies of society and their very eligible bachelor sons. I arrived silently at her elbow during a mild pause in conversation.

“Good evening, Miss Catalonia.” I said, low-toned in her ear, almost managing to surprise her.

“Duo,” Dorothy turned to me with an satisfied expression and a glint in her eye that spoke of amusement. “I’m so pleased you could attend. I don’t suppose you managed to convince Heero along, did you? I do so enjoy sparing with him.” she took a sip of her champagne. “Verbally, I mean.”

Her words were somewhat smothered by the hug she gave me. See what I meant about the hugging? The ladies with whom she had been conversing looked mildly appalled at the open display, and the sons quite upset.

“I told him it was a computer security trade show.” I joked easily.

Dorothy took my hand and mollified them by introducing me as an old friend, a label I had to contain myself from laughing at. “I’m sorry, this must be terribly boring.” The blonde said, clearly stating that it was she who was terribly bored.

“Boring? No, not at all!” I always yawn when I'm interested.

“If you could excuse us, ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Maxwell and I have need to discuss confidential affairs. Please do enjoy the festivity.” The last bit was spoken with a mild distaste, as if it left a bitter taste in her mouth to imply that their social maneuvering was festive.

I offered my arm to her, and we left the cluster of sycophants, but unfortunately, not quickly enough. The guy I’d just had to ditch Heero to get away from spotted Dorothy before we could escape to a less crowded room. He accosted us, no doubt seeing a political opportunity. “Mr. Maxwell-”

“Agent Maxwell.” I corrected tersely.

“Pardon. Agent Maxwell… and Miss Catalonia, too, how fortunate that I should have the occasion to-”

“I’m sorry, Mr. … whoever you are. Duo and I have business to attend to. If you wouldn’t mind?” Dorothy spoke in an elegantly bored fashion that served to insult the guy while leaving him perplexed as to exactly how she’d done it.

His pretentious speeches seemed to have dried up. “Oh- um, my apologies, Miss Catalonia.” He fumbled visibly. “Mr. Max- I mean, Agent Maxwell. I sincerely apologize for my tone in our discussion. It was not my intention to insult you so. I do hope we can look beyond-”

Dorothy lifted an oddly shaped brow icily.

“Um, yes, sorry. I sincerely hope you do not think ill of me-”

“Oh, it goes way beyond that.” I told him sincerely, and with that, Dorothy and I finally made our escape before the true meaning of my words had managed to sink in.

I felt kind of bad for abandoning Heero, especially since it was my fault he was here, but hopefully Vel and Collette would keep him from getting too bored. Once out of sight of the grand hall, Dorothy and I went to a small billiards room we’d played a couple of games of pool in during the last event of this kind, only to find it already occupied.

“How interesting.” She said numbly after shutting the door quickly on the scene we’d accidentally discovered. “I guess those rumors about Miss Elestina and the VP’s daughter are true.”

“I really would have rather not known.” I said flatly, letting her lead me to a staircase to go to the second floor. “I’m never going to be able to look at a ball rack the same way again.”

“Or be able to call it a ‘ball rack’ without unwelcome contradictory images.” She winced, hitching her skirt a little to climb upstairs more quickly. “There’s another billiard room up here, and guests don’t technically have clearance to be anywhere but the first floor, so it should be empty.”

The game room Dorothy had led me to had about the same set up as the one downstairs, but without the dartboard and chess set the other one had also had. The noise of the storm was loud enough to drown out the sounds of the revelry below us, but not the sounds of our voices.

“So, how goes the war without bloodshed?” I said, pulling balls out of the pockets to rack up.

Dorothy had become a rather prominent political figure in the last few years, especially after her help during the Barton Coup. Relena’s support early on had also made a big difference in the favor she won. It’s not all that surprising she can flourish in the aristocratic political world; she loves all the manipulation and the whole thing is just a fun little game to her, a toy she has the intent to master. What’s more surprising is that the girl can actually enjoy all the droning little courtly affairs and the idiots that always go along with them, despite her constant complaints to the contrary. I think she just likes making stupid people feel stupid.

“Well, you know what they say. If life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” She answered sarcastically as she plucked off her elegant elbow-length gloves.

I smirked, setting the triangle somewhere out of the way. “Yeah, and then find the guy who’s life gives him tequila and salt and make margaritas.”

Her full laugh echoed against the rain. “I do enjoy your company, Duo, and I’m rather pleased you decided to attend… I was positively prepared to expire without you.”

“You do realize those old bits think we’re having some torrid affair, don’t you?” I picked out a pool cue and began chalking it up.

She looked wickedly pleased as she selected her own cue from the wall. “That’s the point entirely. I might get out of Tennis this weekend with Lady Hutchinson’s son.”

I gave a snort of amusement. “Tennis seems way too tame for you. I wonder how many times you can get away with ‘accidentally’ serving to his crotch.”

“The question is not what I can get away with, but how long he holds out before I make him cry.” She said and took the chalk I offered her. “So, what are we playing? Eight-ball?”

“Sure. You break.”

Her move to the table was cut off when the power went out. Backup generators had the lights going again before we’d had so much as a chance to exhale, but the lights coming on didn’t mean everything on the security end was okay.

“That’s… not good.” Dorothy murmured, looking up like she expected to see what had caused the outage. “The weather isn’t that bad.”

“We’re going to find Heero.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room, leaving my cue on the table, and hers on the floor where she dropped it.

We ran through the corridor back to the grand hall, with Dorothy trying to keep up in her heels and not trip on her hem, viciously cursing them both and someone named “Christian-something-or-other” all the while. When we reached the first floor, I noted that security was in communication and in motion, and that the guests had barely noted the disturbance.

“Was it really necessary to run?” Dorothy snatched her hand from me and adjusted her dress.

I glared at her. “You think I’m taking chances after last time?”

Having spotted Heero moving towards some on-duty agents. Ignoring whatever response Dorothy was making, I called his name out over the crowd, and he responded immediately, thrusting his drink into a very surprised older gentleman’s hands and dodging his way through people to us.

“You have any idea what’s going on?” I asked quickly when he reached us.

“No.” He nodded at Dorothy distractedly in greeting and she nodded her head back with a wince as she pulled on a strap of her heels, one hand braced on my shoulder to keep balance.

“I’ll find out what the deal is. You take Dorothy somewhere secure; if there is a problem, she could be a target.” He told me.

“I am not helpless!” She protested vehemently. “You can’t leave me out-”

I nodded. “We’ll be in the game room at the top of the stairs.” Dragging a very pissed off Dorothy behind me back to the upstairs game room, I hoped this wouldn’t take too long since I still had to go see Relena.

“I hate it when you leave me out of the fun parts.” Dorothy complained, sitting down in a chair next to the window to take off her heels when we got back. “Selfish bastards.”

I picked the cues back up and tossed hers back to her. “It’s probably nothing. And it’s not like I’m doing anything more than you are anyways.”

She muttered something under her breath and leaned over the table to make a clean break.

“Hey, do you know Senator Cunningham?” I asked, making her take her eyes from the table.

“You’re stripes, I’m solids.” She gestured to the table and leaned down to take her shot. She sunk it and moved around the table.

“I know he’s a fool.” She answered. “And that you people arrested him for something like bribery.”

“Yeah. Something like.” I stepped back so she could reach her next shot. “What about Bosch?”

She straightened abruptly and gave me an intrigued look. “Bosch… he’s no fool.” Her voice hand changed from derogatory to thoughtful, tapping a solid into a corner pocket with a smooth double click as the balls struck each other. “I’ve worked with him on several propositions. He’s very forward-thinking. Insightful. His good intentions had him underestimated by some of his more… uncompromising peers early on. Made them think he’s naïve, but they got over that fairly quickly. Anyway, he’s very popular, and he holds a lot of sway- not just within his own party, either.”

“The popularity I know about. I don’t think I’ve heard a colony politician’s name so many times since the original Heero Yuy.” I said as after she’d sunk the next ball. “Well, what about Wood? Is he as well-intended as Bosch?”

She cursed, as her yellow struck a centimeter from the side pocket. “I suppose. He’s much more traditional, though. Reminds me a bit of Darlain, which is why everyone keeps talking about him becoming Foreign Minister.”

“Darlain? Where do you see the similarity there?” I leaned low over the table. She had set me up perfect to sink the nine. “Their policies aren’t all that similar.”

“No… and he’s not nearly so idealistic as Darlain was, either. He just has the same manner of handling things. The same interests in mind, that sort of thing.”

“I see.” I said thoughtfully, sinking my next shot.

We played two games before Heero got back to us. There had been an intruder, but he’d been caught not long after the lights had come back on and before he could do any damage. After sorting all the fun official crap out, I convinced Heero that it was a good time to cut and run without much effort. We quickly said our goodbyes to Dorothy, Collette and Vel and made a hasty exit down to the valet.

I dropped Heero off at his apartment with very little conversation and the usual farewells. As soon as he shut the car door I checked my watch. Shit, I was so late…

I drove off quickly through the wet, deserted streets, pulling my cell out and punching in a number without really looking. The call was answered on the fourth ring by a professional-sounding female voice.

I sighed a breath of relief. “Hey, Lillith.”

A bright smile warmed her voice. “Oh, good, Mr. Maxwell! Are you still coming tonight?”

“Sorry, Lillith. I got held up, but I’m on my way. I’m not too late, am I?”

“Well, technically, yes. But I can make sure you can get in.”

“Thanks. Tell Relena I’ll be there.” The rain was coming down hard again, and my words were punctuated by the rhythm of the windshield wipers.

The speaker crackled as the reception began to fade. “She’ll… glad to hear it.”

“Ok, I’ll see you soon.” I said loudly, hoping she caught the last part. I hung up, tossed the phone on the passenger’s side, and focused on the beam of the car lights cutting through the dark.

It didn’t take long to get there. The gatekeeper had been informed of my late arrival, and let me in with a wave. A strike of lightning illuminated the long, curved driveway that led to the building that had once been a manor. I parked quickly and ran up the steps, pounding on the door. After a moment, Lillith answered, holding the heavy wooden door open with a pleased expression. She took my coat and handed me my visitor’s I.D., allowing me to sign in at the antique desk just inside the door, despite the fact that visiting hours had ended long ago. The entryway still held the magnificence of a great structure, although the rest of the building had been somewhat changed in order to accommodate it’s current application.

“She’s not in her room, is she?”

“She’s in the music room.” Lillith said kindly. The staff here appreciated my attentiveness towards Relena a great deal, as most patients didn’t have friends or family nearly so dutiful in their visits.

“How is she?” I asked, trying to rub the damp chill from my arms.

“Doing better. We were able to lower one of the medications, and she’s not sleeping all day anymore.”

“And the flashbacks?”

The nurse smiled. “Not so many, even with the lowered dosages. She’s really improved.”

I sighed heavily. “Thanks.” I walked down a side corridor to the last room on the right.

Opening the door quietly, I found Relena sitting reflectively by the window looking out at the rain, her legs neatly crossed at the ankles, her hands folded demurely in her lap.

“Good evening, Princess.” I let the door swing closed behind me and walked slowly toward her, not knowing where she thought she was. Her pale face spun quickly around to look at me, an open smile on her lips. Her hair fell awkwardly around her face, as though she’d attempted to put it up, but it had refused to stay in place.

“Oh, Duo!” She leapt to her feet and threw her arms round my neck, giving me a light kiss on the cheek. Very gently, I hugged her small frame in return. She looked more like a child now than when I’d first met her.

I spoke tentatively, taking a guess as to where she was mentally. “How’s the party been so far? Had to escape the crowds?”

It was hard to tell where her head was most of the time. I was relieved she recognized me at all. But dates like today with special significance seemed to put her in a more predictable place.

She looked back up to give me a serious nod. “Quite. They won’t give me a moment’s peace. The ball has been fairly tolerable so far, though.” She nodded again in agreement with her own words, and taking me by the hands, led me to sit by the window with her. “Mrs. Sheridan said the most peculiar thing to me. She told me Senator Litz is planning to vote against the Carter Act. It makes no sense, his party endorsed it, and last I heard, he himself had helped write it. Isn’t that odd?”

“Very.” I replied seriously. The debate over the Carter Act had been out of the news for a year, and Senator Litz was retired as of four months ago.

To the public, Relena Darlain was still a symbol. Last December she had officially ended her term as Vice Foreign Minister, after which she had left the public eye altogether. The general story was that she was working out of the public eye, but still very involved in the government. The only ones aware of her current state and situation were me, Lady Une, and Dorothy.

I looked now at the girl before me, a ghost of the woman who had been called the Queen of the World. The woman who had used the Romefeller Foundation to spread her ideals, even when it was they who thought they were using her, looked small and faded as she took both her hands to tug nervously at her unkempt hair. Her smile was vacant and lost, and the days when she had lived so strongly were just a disoriented memory. She had loved so devoutly, so passionately that it had driven her… to a state of mind from which she could never return.

It was my fault it had happened. My fault that she’d been…

“Oh, how it all turned out in the end.” Relena cut off my thoughts with a smile, and took one of my hands in hers. “To have fought, in our own ways, so valiantly for days like this. Days of celebration and of peace. It’s almost too good to be true, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I said, not being able to say much more.

“It’s like a story, or a legend. After all we fought for… you put your lives on the line, day after day, for peace, for the people of the colonies. People who betrayed you, denounced you, and still you fought, for them.” She smiled beatifically into my eyes. “Sacrificing your life is the noblest of all gifts; it is the one offering given without any expectance of reward or reciprocation. What were all of you, if not heroes?”

I wanted to say that I didn’t believe in heroes. Instead, I smiled back at her, and looked out of the window without an answer. I wondered where it was that we left the script, where along the way someone forgot their lines. Which act was forgotten, and who was directing, anyway?

Or was life a play after all? A tragedy, perhaps. A performance of broken hearts and death, misfortune and madness. Maybe, bleak as it was, this was the life we were meant to live.

We sat in silence for a long time, and I finally replied in a hushed whisper, “Happy ever after.”



I undressed slowly and sat on the end of the bed in my boxers, stagnant and staring at the floor, trying not to think, trying to avoid what I avoided every time. There was an ever-present numbness that was all I had left in this time before sleep, before dreams. It was a feeling that stayed contained inside my chest until this moment. A moment where I struggled not to question, not to wonder, and never to doubt. My choices. My existence.

In this moment, I was and I was not. It was my moment of madness and my moment of clarity. Vision and obscurity.

I felt as though it were snowing inside of me.

Falling back onto my pillow, my braid almost artistically curled beside me of its own volition and my arms delicately splayed lifelessly outward. I sank down into the comforter, exhaling with a puff of air I imagined to be frosted with the cold inside of me. I knew I would dream tonight.

I descended slowly into sleep, my body suddenly feeling heavy and weighed down, drifting darker. It was a sleep that felt like dying softly.

I found myself in a maze made of mirrors. An endless echoed image of the path and my self. It was impossible to tell where to go, because in every mirror was an infinite reflection of a reflection… I tried to use my hands to feel my way out, but soon forgot which way I had come and what way I was going.

There was a distinct lack of frustration. Instead, I just felt a profound sadness, and very, very alone.

As if in answer to the feeling, Quatre suddenly replaced my reflection in the mirror before me. He looked young and bright, and smiled at me. It was not a smile of comfort, but one of joy in its purest nature. So pure, in fact, that I thought most certainly that he couldn’t be smiling at me.

He touched his hand to the glass before him, and I mirrored the action, so that our fingertips met through the pane. There was a ripple that stemmed from the point, flowing outward, making the glass appear to liquefy for a moment.

Quatre pulled his hand in like he’d been burnt. He painfully hugged his chest and collapsed to his knees, crying out. After a moment of agonized breathing, his hands fell away and wilted at his sides.

“Quatre!” I yelled in panic, beating the glass before me with a fist.

The front of his shirt blushed red, and began to bleed through until the space over his heart was thick and sopping wet with blood. He coughed, blood speckling the ground before him.

I screamed his name again, striking the mirror with all my force, but it refused to shatter.

Through the desperate, chafing gasps for air, his ribs snapped open with distinct, popping cracks, ripping through fleshy tissue then skin. They were pried open enough to clearly show his still beating heart cradled limply in his exposed chest. The lungs flared in raw attempts to keep breathing, and then, slowly, the heart drooped forward and slipped from the gaping cavity to the ground with a thick splat.

The whole time, Quatre forgave me, saying he knew it wasn’t my fault. That I couldn’t help what I did.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Dig, Ophelia” by Rasputina

~ Dig Ophelia, consider it dug
Flowers madness and polar bear rug
Here's the water, just ankle deep high
Lay back relax and look up at the sky.
Cut the stem and you'll see how you feel
Floating orchids just ain't no big deal
Never knowing's like knowing too much
Tap the table, oh here's more bad luck
Your eyes never close
your mind's not at rest
Lay back, get waterlogged
Give us a kiss
Water spreads the small seed
Water kills the tall weed
Ophelia
Ophelia~

~ * ~

Chapter 7

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