|
"Surfacing "Written By: Jo Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Not beta'd -
living dangerously. Rating: G Warnings: Ficlet, Hilde POV, some time post EW,
no spoiler. Pairings: Heero-Duo, H+2 Summary: Hilde's thoughts as she realizes her
feelings for Duo are not reciprocated. " Surfacing "
It was one of those feather-light spring rains. The
sun was high and hardly any clouds dotted the sky but rain came anyway
out of that hopeful, vibrant blue. A blue apt for new beginnings,
and a blue apt for simmering heartbreaks. Frail threads of rain drifted around us like a gentle
celebration. No one seemed to notice the intrusion; no one but me
when wet splotches began to appear on my flesh-colored nylon stockings.
In a split second, I entertained thoughts of kicking off my heels
and stepping out of my skin. I thought longingly of that tingly feeling
on my feet whenever I run barefoot through rain covered grass. Those
moments were few and far in between. At the end of that split second,
I bent at the knees and ran my fingers through the trimmed wet grass
at my feet. The man I chose brushed by, and with unfaltering steady
strides he walked toward the man he chose. From behind, he circled
his arms around his lover’s waist and rested his chin on his
lover’s right shoulder. He whispered against his lover’s
ear and laughed at the reaction to his words. He smiled when Quatre
Winner raised a plastic cup half-filled with cheap red wine to them,
and his long braid swayed between his shoulder blades as he took a
sip from his lover’s raised cup. Their matching silver bands
caught the sun and shone an unsightly brilliance that brought a familiar
tightness to my chest. I held up a hand over my eyes and smiled to
an invisible friend amongst the handful of guests. The cola in my
cup fizzled a curious song and I let my weary feet carry me around.
They moved by their own accord as if searching for a resting-place
for useless sentiments and fragments of a one-sided love affair. In
my mind I repeated, Duo has grass on the cuff of his pants. There was a tree in the lonely far corner of the backyard.
It looked old with deep grooves in its grayish brown bark. The lowest
branch was thicker than my arm and on it hung a pair of worn yellow
boots by its tied shoestrings. When rain and wind sent shivers through
the old tree, the boots swayed and bobbed, and knocked playfully into
the pair of worn black boots hanging next to it. Bewildered, I turned to see behind me, a newly tiled
roof on a small, cozy starter house, half finished wooden fences;
a fresh flowerbed, and a mangy but excited yellow lab running between
legs begging for food. I looked up at that blue and my face was wet
with rain and a kind of melancholic joy that could come only with
letting go. I jumped slightly when a warm coat was thrown over my
shoulders; I looked back to see Trowa Barton peering down at me. In
his usual silent self, he folded his arms across his chest and stood
next to me like my very own tree bearing witness to my new resolve.
In a split second - another in a series of many - I came to the end
of a chapter of my life. I handed him my cup and step out of my heels.
And with shoes in my hands, I walked slowly out of the backyard and
ventured into that vibrant, hopeful blue. _________________ |
