I don’t know what he’s thinking. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know what I can do. There’s someone… something… knelt beside me, talking in riddles, lying in his words, twisting his sentences. He isn’t Duo. I just can’t believe that this is the God of Death. Has it... has it really been my fault, or is my mind already playing tricks on me, in my last minutes? I can’t feel a thing. No pain, nothing. I can only look at him, while he’s not looking at me; dark eyes hidden behind his bangs.
“Are you feeling remorse?”
“What?”
“Are you feeling remorse?” He repeats his words, pronouncing them in an exaggerated way, as explaining something to a small child. “Remorse for those who have died? Do you pity them, Heero?”
“I pity them for having to die in such an awful manner,” I answer, trying to remain lucid, to keep my thoughts clear. If there’s anything of Duo left, I can get it out. I have to get it out- if only to see his violet, brilliant eyes, and not these pools of… nothingness.
He snorts, shifting the staff in his hands. “Pathetic. Do not tell me it is your humanity that makes you feel that, Heero. The little Perfect Soldier with his emotions locked away, who always follows mission orders, who lives for his fucking precious missions, too blind to see, little naughty boy.”
“Is that how you see me, or Duo?” I sneer.
He moves his head, and looks at me, growling low in his throat. “There is no Duo Maxwell left! Only I am here, and I am the last one you will ever see.” He chuckles. “Tell me, is it your humanity? Hmmm?”
“Yes,” I say, “it’s my humanity. I’m no longer the Perfect Soldier. I’ve never been really, and Duo was the first one to see it and who peeled my shell away. He showed me what I was, what I am, what I can be- his lover, his partner, his friend.”
“Poetic. My heart would weep for joy.”
“If you had one.”
“If I had one.”
His right hand slips from the staff, and touches my chest. His fingers dab at the blood, coating them immediately.
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Why.”
“Why? Because I can. They would have died anyway. If not by my hand, then they would die from another cause and no, not when they are 80 years old or living happily ever after. You should be thankful, Heero Yuy, because I took care of the worst scum of the Earth and you have done nothing but to doubt me- again.”
“They had all right to a fair trial, and...”
“Fair?” He all but screams, and presses with his fingers on my chest. I don’t feel a thing, so I don’t pay attention to what he’s doing. “Life is not fair. There is only one thing fair in life and that is death- unavoidable, inevitable, and indefinite. That what is fair, Heero- Death does not make any distinction. No discrimination, no favoritism, only equality. Everyone dies.”
“But not you,” I whisper.
“Not me.” It amuses him, as he’s grinning again. I can’t get any grip on him. I need to know… I want to know everything and I open my mouth again, hesitantly.
“The people you all killed…they weren’t all criminals. One man, in Eastbourne…”
“Death waits for you all,” he answers, interrupting me, “and Death does not make mistakes. The man had to die, as he was involved in the operation that Masterson had set up. He would have made victims as well, and I spared you a lot of work by taking his life. What do you care, Heero?”
“I care because they were people, not empty shells,” I say, my voice still at its usual strength. “Human. Humanity! That’s something you will never possess.”
“Tough luck.” He shrugs and then pats himself on the chest. “I have everything I want, and I possess this body. It has been fun, but now I have to go. I have lots of work to do.”
“No!” I gasp and cough loud. “Don’t leave me!”
I don’t care if he thinks I’m easily reduced to begging. This is about Duo, not about me, and if it takes begging to get him back, then I’ll beg.
“I have not left yet. Do you want to continue this conversation?”
“Just tell me why… why Duo?”
He shrugs again, a really irritating gesture. “I needed a new vessel and Duo virtually offered him to me.”
“That’s a lie,” I snarl. “Duo would never do such a thing! You’re telling lies!”
“See it however you want to see. But seeing is your problem, is it not? Do not worry, Heero. There is nothing you could do about it, unless you were around when he saw the church burn down and his family die in front of his eyes. That was the start of it all. Such delicious fire and chaos… such tasty tears and despair.”
Traumatic event. Create another personality to disassociate from the trauma. “We can help you,” I tell him. “Please, Duo…”
“Duo is not here anymore,” he answers, patiently. “Spare me the clichés, Heero. They will not work, as I have heard them all over and over again. Do not worry your pretty head about it. It is over anyway.”
His hand is on my chest again, lazily drawing circles, fingers covered in the pooling blood.
“What… are you doing to me?”
He looks up. “You are dead, Heero. You should be really grateful that I made sure you are not feeling any pain.” He has the gall to smile, and it’s an exact copy of Duo’s most wonderful, intimate smile. A smile only reserved for me in the most private of all moments.
“Go away!” I hiss at him. “Get away from me!”
He continues to smile, showing his perfect white teeth. Instead of getting away from me, he leans close, as close as if he’s going to kiss me, and grabs me by the lapels of my shirt.
“No more begging? No more ‘Let go of Duo?’ And you dared call me ‘not a survivor’?” He laughs, the sound even more painful to my ears. “Death does not need to survive, Heero. It continues to live...” he pauses to chuckle, “because it is indefinite. It will always exist. In you, in Duo, in the Earth, in the very core of every being. I survive without any trouble. The beginning and the end… I will always be there.”
I’m tired. I want to fight, but I can’t. I’m blind… I have been blind for so long. There’s no way I can go back and fix it now. I want to… I want to do so many things in such a short amount of time. Too many questions, too little answers.
Chestnut bangs caress my face; he’s so close that our noses touch.
“The most beautiful part is that you will not ever know if it was Duo or me who loved you, Heero Yuy. You have courted Death and you lost.”
He kisses me. His lips are no longer warm, but cold, ice cold as the deepest polar seas. These aren’t the lips who promised me forever, who called my name, who smiled at me. His kiss is emotionless, cold and orchestrated- a movement of his lips on mine, nothing more. When he finally finishes his kiss and pulls away from me, he dares once again to smile at me.
“Get lost,” I spit at him. His eyes narrow to thick black slits, the pupils are no longer visible. He seems angry and he releases his grip on my shirt- at the same moment as my head hits the pavement, the pain of the bullet impact flares through my body. I jerk and gasp, biting my tongue from crying out loud in pain.
“Your wish is my command,” he mock-salutes me, and he straightens himself. He takes the scythe with him, and I hear the large blade scrape over the pavement before he swings the staff over his shoulder. I want to ask him where he’s going to, what’s going to happen to me, even though my mind has already accepted that I’m going to die. I can’t muster any strength to speak. I still have the vague hope that Wufei will find me, as he probably has alerted our trusty back-up team after our communication line was cut off. With one last indescribable look on his face, Shinigami suddenly turns around and I hear him walk away, with a low laugh, talking to himself. I can’t feel a thing anymore. I’m lying there, on the ground. I’m sure it’s cold, but my mind won’t register it, as it won’t recognize the pain. Why am I even still thinking? I should be long dead by now… what is it that keeps me alive, for now? I’ve always taken great pride in my military training, as it shaped and formed me into who and what I am; the advantages and the disadvantages- everything. I learned how to deal with situations, I learned how to assess people, I learned how to safely tuck away my emotions and I learned how to build walls. I can take guns apart blindfolded and backwards, I can write computer programs that even the greatest and most intellectual geniuses can’t comprehend, only the four others like me. The five of us together, who had always been… allies, comrades. We haven’t been always friends, but we understood the need to work together and the benefits of teamwork during the war days. Strong and silent Trowa, gentle and kind Quatre, strict and rigid Wufei, lively and cheerful Duo. We were all deadly, dangerous and professional. We’ve been through so much, there’s something between us that can’t be broken, even though we’ve taken different roads or seem different than we are- there is something between us that makes us understand.
Maybe I haven’t understood Duo after all. I knew about the church, I knew about certain things that have happened to him, but I didn’t know everything, just as he doesn’t know everything about me. Some things are just too horrible or too intimate to share, and there are some things you just want to forget and bury, bury deep down. I smile, though. I haven’t lost completely.
Shinigami wasn’t created by disassociation from a traumatic event. He isn’t another personality of Duo; he’s a separate entity that possessed him. Duo’s nothing but a vessel, and that means that Duo’s still there, temporary overpowered. He’s not responsible for the killings, he didn’t wield the scythe. His visions and beliefs after the war weren’t altered, and he’s always been too strong to let any event change him in a way that another personality could be created. Duo is a survivor, not a quitter. Shinigami choose him for his strength and tenacity, not the other way around. He was a separate identity, not Duo’s other personality.
I want to laugh and cry out in joy. How am I going to put this into the mission report? ESUN doesn’t believe in supernatural entities… and neither do I. But isn’t that my biggest flaw, not being able to see what happens in front of my eyes? I don’t even have the time left to write a mission report- and why am I even thinking of the mission when I’m dying?
It’s not a sin to lose to the God of Death. Some powers can’t be fought, some passions can’t be smothered. I believe you, Duo. My eyelids are drooping. I want to go to sleep.
I want to ask you so many things, Duo. I want to know so much about you and I had the time for so long, yet I didn’t ask. I had more than 8 years to ask you, to fathom you, to understand you. I’m sorry that I failed you. I can hardly keep my eyes open, but I’m starting to see. It was never about you, was it? It was about me. How I didn’t let you completely in, how I didn’t accept you totally, how I kept my reserves and my doubts. I’m so sorry.
I love you, Duo. I allowed Shinigami to have free rein- you were so busy tearing my walls down, that you didn’t notice your own being torn down, from the inside out. I didn’t notice them, and that’s why I failed you. I understand you now. My eyes are closed, but I’m no longer blind.
I see you, Duo. I see you how you are; my Duo. With your warmth, your life, your smile, your warm lips… with everything you are. Everything you are and everything you wanted to be. How I want to hear your voice, if only for a few seconds, to whisper in my ear… how I want another chance to say that I finally see. My lips curl into a smile. I understand you, Duo. If only… if only I could hold you one more time. If only I could taste your lips one more time.
The stars in the night sky slowly dim, one by one. It’s not cold anymore. Has it been cold? Even the pain has worn off. I wish you were here with me, my Duo. I don’t mind if you’d only sit next to me and watch me. I don’t want to be alone. My Duo, my God of Death, my Shinigami. You are my everything, my life, and my death, literally. I wouldn’t want to have it any other way.
There are no more sounds. I can’t see anymore. And I smile, because it was you who took my life, and no one else. Only you. I die for you, Duo. Just as I promised.
-----------------------
“Heero.. Heero, can you hear me? Heero!”
Voices. Words. A string of words, uttered so close to my ear, resonating through my head. I can hear, but I can’t see. Darkness surrounds me, but I don’t feel any pain. If anything, I feel like I’m floating… no, drifting. Drifting towards the words that have been spoken.
“Heero?”
“Senhor, por favor, năo grita na orelha do paciente. Năo pode ouvi-lo.”
A female voice, dancing, and if it were possible, wrapping her melodic stream of words around his, two musical waves coming together. I want to smile- the words dance in front of my eyes, shining a little, casting a weak glance in the darkness.
“Heero! I know you’re there… don’t give me this coma bullshit, Heero… I know you’re there!”
“Senhor! Eu peço que vocĕ preste atençăo a sua lingua. A bala era muito próxima e estĕve na cirurgia extensive por dias que este era tudo que nós poderíamos fazer para ele. Deve ter estado inoperante.”
She sounds determined, commanding even. The dance of words fades in front of my eyes, chased away by the strong, powerful intonation. The lights seem to dim, the darkness increasing.
“Don’t you think I know that he’s supposed to be dead? He’s still here, goddamnit, he’s still here! Heero! Heero!”
“Senhor, por favor!”
I know this voice. I’ve heard it before. Strong, lively, and wonderful. The same voice that has whispered words of love, the same voice that has called my name, calls my name, will call my name, always… the only voice I’ll listen to, no matter what, and it belongs to my Duo.
Suddenly the darkness doesn’t seem that dark anymore, as if realizing his presence has brightened it, like a small candle in an ocean of black, chasing it away to blend into dark grey colors, lighting up my surroundings.
“You’re not leaving me. You’re not fucking leaving me, Heero Yuy… I need you. I love you. Please come back. Say something, Heero…”
No, I’m not leaving. I’m not leaving at all! I want to be with Duo, I need him just as much, I love him just as much. I love him more than life itself, I love him with all my heart and soul. He knows this, but he wants to hear it. I need to say it out loud. I force myself to open my mouth, and I suck in a large gulp of breath. The fresh air immediately makes me dizzy and it feels like someone is ragging on my throat with sandpaper. It fucking hurts and tears well up in my eyes, frustrated, angry. I want to move my arms and I start choking; gods, it burns, it rips through my body.
Shouts, yells, screams. My ears pick up every word, not identifying the language, and I have trouble distinguishing between the voices. Another male voice, another female voice, and they all interrupt each other, loud and irritated. My mind can’t identify my surroundings either, and I still haven’t opened my eyes. I know Duo is here, he must be here, so I call out to him.
“Duo!” I manage to speak, without stuttering. It’s all I can do before giving up, giving in, as my body jerks one more time and the darkness engulfs me, and for the first time in my life I welcome it. Black is Duo’s color. How could I not welcome it? I’m just tired, so very tired.
Fingertips on my face. Calloused fingers, yet they stroke my skin with the utmost tenderness. They trace and trail the outline of my face, starting from my brow to my chin, and back again. The repetitive motion is soothing and I move my head a little, leaning into the touch.
“Open your eyes…” The same voice again. Duo. He sings to me again. “Open your eyes, Heero.”
I can’t refuse him, and why should I? I want to see him. I want to see how he really is. I know how he is, and now I want to see him. It’s a simple command, but it takes all my strength again. I take a deep breath again, expecting the same, previously vicious reaction, but nothing happens save for a small cough. It gives me the confidence to continue; apparently my body’s already recuperating.
Death waits for you all. His words, spoken to me in his voice, with his eyes gazing at me, and Death does not make mistakes. Shinigami doesn’t make mistakes and still I’m alive, I’m hearing the voice of the man I love, and… I see him. His face is close by, large violet eyes examining me, mouth a thin line, biting on his bottom lip. Chestnut bangs slightly waving in the fresh breeze coming through a window- from the right.
“Heero… holy Mother of God…”
He brings up his hand again, hesitating before he touches me again. “Say something…”
“Duo,” is the first word to escape my lips and the smile I receive in return is astounding.
“Yes, it’s me,” he answers, still smiling. “I thought I lost you… again.”
I want to retort, but my mind has already processed the necessary information. Everything in my eye field is a dead giveaway that I’m in a hospital - not again -, with the cream colored blankets, starch white sheets, the rather flowery smell of cleansing products, the large curtain on the left side of my bed.
“I’ve arranged for a private room,” Duo informs me, and his hand slips from my cheek to my shoulder, rustling the fabric of the simple shirt I’m wearing. “I’m so glad to see you. I thought you were gone…”
“I’m here,” is all I can say, and he smiles again, touching me on the arm. He pulls up the blanket a little and leans forward, kissing me chastely on the lips.
“You need a lot of rest, Heero. This one… was really, really close.”
“Perfect hit.”
“What?”
“Perfect hit,” I repeat. “The bullet hit me right in my heart. This is impossible.”
He averts his eyes, moving his head to look away. His braid slides over his shoulder, and there’s no black scarf woven into it, not even the tie is black, but a mere chestnut brown, just like his own hair.
“One millimeter,” he mumbles. “One millimeter to the left and you would’ve been dead indeed. You either had a giant guardian angel, Heero, or…” His voice trails off.
“A mistake?” I tilt my head. I’m thirsty, but I don’t want to interrupt this moment. He’s silent, staring at the blankets and plucking at them. Just as he opens his mouth to answer me, the door opens and a nurse enters, greeting me and I recognize her voice. She handles her job as she speaks; with determination. She checks my vitals and pushes me back into my pillows, lecturing me on taking plenty of rest and that it’s a miracle that I’m alive, while Duo translates. It’s all déjà vu to me and I smile and nod, until she finally leaves me alone. I want to ask Duo a thousand questions, but my body is already tired from that little exertion.
“Get some rest, Heero,” Duo says, not looking at me. “I’m here, so if there’s anything you need, you can ask me.”
Distance. So much distance. “I…”
His smile is intended for me, but doesn’t mask the sadness on his face. “Rest, Heero.”
As soon as I open my eyes again, moaning a little, he’s standing next to my bed again.
“Good morning,” he says, voice low. “How are you feeling?”
“All right, I guess,” I mumble, still groggy. I’m not fit at all; my usual instincts haven’t kicked in, and everything feels like wading through a swamp with a heavy backpack.
“Breakfast has already been served. Do you want anything? If you feel like it, I can mush something for you.”
“Where are we anyway?”
“We’re still in Silves,” he answers and now I notice his slight tan. Duo has a rather sensitive skin concerning sunlight; him sporting a tan means that he’s been quite long out in the sun.
“How long have I been here?”
“Two months. Nobody expected you to pull through, after you had been found with a bullet point blank in your heart,” Duo tells me, not sugarcoating the truth, for which I’m thankful. Still, it sends shivers down my spine. I have spoken to the God of Death and he let me live. I wonder if he rejected me, or if he’s playing another cruel game with me. Another thought pops up in my mind.
“What about Pinheiro?”
“Heero, the mission is over.”
“What about him?”
Duo sighs. “He’s dead.”
God, no. My fingers clutch the blanket. A cruel, cruel game indeed. Duo moves to sit on my bed, carefully avoiding disturbance of my comfortable position. He puts his hand on my leg, and for a moment I shiver, not from the cold. He notices it, and pulls his hand away; the hurt on his face is sending even more shivers down my spine. That wasn’t my intention.
“He was found in his hotel room, decapitated,” he continues, eyes not completely visible behind the curtain of chestnut bangs. “He was holding a small scythe, and judging from the scene, it could be either a really bizarre accident or some sort of ritual suicide. ESUN is currently investigating if it’s connected to any of the other killings.”
“Other killings?” I lower my eyes. If Une has spoken with Duo about her Shinigami theory, what is he doing here? Shouldn’t he be incarcerated by now?
“I’m rather pissed at Une,” Duo says, dropping another bomb. “You’d been talking earlier to her about those killings, and no one even informed me. Our missions, Heero, our responsibility, and nobody even told me!”
He raises his voice, but lowers it the next second, blushing faintly. “I… it’s really not my place to be screaming at you. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re right.” I’m glad that my voice is at its usual strength again. I feel well enough to lift my arm, hand searching for his. “I should’ve told you immediately what they were investigating.”
“A serial killer with a scythe,” Duo snorts. “And because I swung a scythe with my Gundam, they thought I could identify the killer.”
I can’t hide my surprised look. “They thought what?”
He chuckles, but it’s not really his usual chuckle; it sounds bitter. “I really wish they’d stop lying to me. They thought it was me, right? That I killed those people.”
His hand rests limply in mine, and I lack the strength at the moment to squeeze reassuringly. Words will have to do.
“Yes, Duo. They thought for a long time that you were behind the killings.” I’m convinced that Wufei is busy covering up all the murders, connecting them to Pinheiro one way or another for the public eye and the media, as far as news about the scythe-killings has leaked out. Duo is safe, but not completely suspicion-free. Wufei was the one who worked most intensively with us on the last cases, and I don’t know how easily or not he will accept the notion of the separate entity that was part of Duo for so long. I have to know.
“Duo, it is you, right?”
He nods. “It’s me.”
I’m not referring to the killer, but to Duo as a person. As if he’s guessing my thoughts, he moves his head, which causes his braid to slide over his shoulder again. Still no black scarf.
“How much do you know?”
He curls his fingers around mine, his touch is warm. “I know enough, Heero. I was hoping you’d greet me with more enthusiasm, but I understand. It must’ve been… traumatizing.”
“Losing you would be more traumatizing,” I answer truthfully. “We’ve been doing lots of things wrong, Duo, and I don’t ever want that to happen again.”
“Me neither,” he simply says and straightens himself, fingers still on my hand. “There’ll be lots of opportunity to talk, Heero. I want you to rest and heal up first. You were as good as dead when they brought you here, and you’ve been in surgery for hours on end.”
I move my head, reclining into the pillows. “I don’t want to see a hospital from the inside ever again.”
“Me neither,” he whispers. “It was nerve wracking… waiting for the doctors until they were finished, waiting for you to pull through… I knew you’d pull through, but dear God, they all but gave up on you.”
“I understand,” I say, smiling faintly. “I was as good as dead, remember?”
“I know you,” Duo retorts immediately, “even death holds no power over you.”
His words bring a vivid memory back to me; I said the same to Shinigami, though slightly different. On top of the convent, with me lying on the ground, life slipping away from me. I close my eyes, wanting to banish the memory.
“Heero?”
“How willingly did you harbor him?” I abruptly ask him, wanting to know for sure. I must assure myself that Shinigami is gone, and that Duo is my Duo again. I want to trust him… I can’t be blind again, I won’t be blind anymore. He looks me straight in the eye, without flinching.
“He didn’t invite himself, and I didn’t seek him out, if that’s what you mean, Heero.”
“Invite… he said that you were a vessel.”
“Shinigami has the power to twist every human or any vessel to fit his needs. He’s the God of Death, he doesn’t ask permission. In my case, he didn’t need to ask permission. I didn’t welcome him, but I didn’t reject him either.”
Rejection. Walls. “Never again...” I heave a sigh. “Never again will I be blind, and never again will you be silent, Duo.”
He cocks his head, looking curiously at me. “What do you mean?”
I feel a headache coming on, but I don’t want to be bothered by it. Stubbornly, I continue to speak. “We quit the ESUN. We go looking for regular jobs. We’ll talk about what happened, what happens, and what will happen. There will be no more…”
“Heero, listen to yourself,” he interrupts me. “Please, don’t do this. I wouldn’t want to ask you to give up your work, nor do I want to. Your work is your life, and you’re damn good at it. You’re not cut out for regular working hours and an office job, and frankly, neither am I.”
“I don’t want this to happen again,” I say.
Duo squeezes my hand, gently. “We have a good relationship, but we made some mistakes. You didn’t see, I didn’t speak. We know our faults and we can work on that, Heero. We don’t need drastic or radical changes, because the basis of our relationship is already strong enough. We have an unbreakable bond, and what we build on it, can’t be torn down by the mistakes we made.”
I squirm, looking for a better position. The pillows are cool to the touch, and my headache needs to be taken care of- preferably with a massage from Duo. It makes me want to laugh; I’ve already accepted the situation. My lips curl up in a smile. Duo is right, of course- I almost went there again, as if I haven’t learned anything at all. There still is one thing that has been bothering me.
“Why didn’t Shinigami claim my life?”
Duo looks pensive, his brow furrowed in thought. “I really don’t know. It’s not like I know him, it, however you want to address Shinigami. I sometimes thought I could hear him thinking, and in wartime, it was almost reassuring. Listening to the voice in my head made me forget what I was doing, and later I was afraid that I was becoming insane. When the war was over the voice was virtually gone, and I didn’t hear from him ever.”
“Instead, he took over your body and used your mental strength to claim his victims,” I nod, trying to find an explanation. I can’t write a mission report about this of course, but I want to know everything. “Maybe he thought you’d outlived your usefulness to him.”
“Or maybe he thought I wasn’t worth his trouble.”
“I doubt it,” my voice is turning into a raspy whisper, “it seemed to me that he…”
“Who knows, maybe the convent was a good influence.” Duo interrupts me again, looking at me. “All I know is that he isn’t here anymore, Heero. He’s gone. The God of Death is gone.”
Gone to find himself a new victim, or a new vessel? I bite down on my tongue, immediately cursing myself. I have to accept that there aren’t always answers, and that an entity that equals the God of Death can’t be understood or comprehended. It’s all right- it’s enough. He’s gone, that’s enough.
One thing before I fall asleep again, my body yearning for the rest, needing it to fully recover. “Kiss me, Duo.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he says, not reproachful, enthusiasm ringing through his words. He leans forward and kisses me, lips warm, so incredibly warm and moist, tingling against my lips as if they’re electrically charged. It’s his kiss, his lips, his presence that tells me everything’s going to be all right. Answers will await us, they will await us on the road we’re about to take, the new path we’ve chosen. From what we’ve built, we continue- the foundations are strong enough, immovable, and indestructible. Questions? I’m sure I’ve got a lot of questions, and I know some of them will remain unanswered. I’ll see the God of Death once again, hopefully when I’m over eighty and have lived happily ever after, and then I’ll ask him. Then I’ll ask him why he spared my life on the top of a convent in Portugal, and which face he chooses to wear, it won’t have the same effect on me. Because my Duo has been the God of Death, and death holds no power over me- only Duo, and the way he kisses me, is powerful enough to melt, to submit, to die again.
He breaks from the kiss for air, looking at me expectantly. I give him a smile, as far as I can muster my depleted energy to show him one; I really, really hate being in a hospital.
“Duo,” I say, and he brushes strands of hair out of my face.
“Yes, Heero?”
“I want to marry you and when we do, we marry in a convent.”
His face shows this deliciously shocked look, before he bursts out into laughter; his own, rambunctious laughter, echoing in the room and probably audible on the next floor, but God, what a sound to hear. This is Duo. My Duo, completely my Duo. He laughs and laughs, squeezing my hand one more time, and it takes him a few minutes to gather his wits. He chuckles, patting my hand.
“Heero, marrying in a convent is an oxymoron.”
“So?”
“So? So… it can’t be done?”
“Since when do you give “can’t be done” a second thought?”
“True,” he admits, winking at me. It’s the only warning I get before he captures my lips again, life and joy flowing through his every vein, transferring to me when he exchanges his love with me. His fingers curl around the blanket, tucking me in. I close my eyes, savoring the kiss for as long as possible. I don’t want to let go, refusing to give in to the rest my body so obviously needs. I’ll be soon enough back on my feet again, but now I want to hold on to this moment forever, feeling his lips on mine, his face so close to me that I can smell his cinnamon scent. The same scent that promises me a sunrise, every day again and again, the sun that shines in his heart and mine. My Duo. His Heero. Forever.
End Storm Clouds over Europe
Chapter 13 |