Author: hostilecrayon
Rating: PG
Pairing: 3+4
Warnings: Um... Quatre's angsty? Um...
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Catching up on the gift fics I want to do... this one is for Aiko. Poor thing is sick! Ack! I grabbed a prompt from Natea this time, because this tired, I can't think up my own prompts hahaha. So the prompt is view from a fourth floor window. Here we go again! Oh, and please don't ask me where I got the 3=4 notion from... I never write that pairing separate unless prompted to... but like all my stories... an image attacked me and I had to follow through...
Subtle
Being the executive of a multi-billion dollar company has its perks. I always get the top floor penthouse suite when available, doors are opened for me and chauffeurs are there to take me wherever I desire to go. I'm always surrounded by people, and everyone wants to either know me or ruin me. The entire Earth Sphere knows my name. "Quatre Raberba Winner," they say, "is the youngest billionaire in recent history, and he has more corporate influence than places that have been around five times as long."
My days are constant, endless faces of these people, but still, I feel alone.
It's this that's going through my head as I stare out on the beautiful view of a garden from my fourth floor suite, watching faceless people come and go and knowing I know none of them personally, but they all know who I am. But they don't know me.
A knock at the door disturbs me from my view, and I prepare myself to smile for whoever it might be, turning the doorknob as I pray I don't have yet another meeting to attend to tonight. But the face I find myself beaming at isn't George my driver, or one of the press hawks trying to get a story and a picture with the young, wealthy businessman.
It's Trowa.
I am so stunned to silence that I don't move until Trowa smirks slightly and says, "Are you going to invite me in or shall I set up a lawn chair in the hallway?"
I quickly step aside and let him pass, my mind still reeling. I haven't seen Trowa in over a year, and just like that, he's dropping in as if I'd just seen him yesterday and we made plans to meet here.
"It's been a long time," I hear myself say as I move to take my place in front of the window once again, as if it can keep me safe somehow. Safe from the hurt that I thought I'd traded in for my loneliness. But without warning, the hurt and the loneliness combine forces, and it's suddenly a fight to keep myself in the room.
"It has." From the corner of my eye, I see the almost imperceptible nod he uses to accent his statement, and it makes my insides crawl. His subtlety was always something I loved about him.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" I ask, not wanting to know the answer, but needing to know anyway.
"Yes." He takes a few steps towards me, stopping directly behind me, and it makes me want to curl into a ball and die.
"Why are you here, Trowa?" I whisper.
"To show you what I found."
"Wha-" I'm cut off mid-sentence as a warm hand grabs my shoulder and gently spins me around. He leans into me and before I can protest, his lips touch mine and I am lost to the subtle press of his skin on mine. It isn't demanding or wanting or even asking. It is just a quiet statement; his way of telling me what he wants me to know.
It lasts less than a second, and when he pulls back, his green eyes shimmer with pain, determination... and love. Both of his hands rest on my shoulders and he holds me in place, locking me with his gaze. "Listen, Quatre. If you tell me to walk away right now and never come back, I will. All I ask is that you let me say what I came here to say first."
I swallow harshly and nod; the only thing I feel capable of doing at the moment.
"I didn't know if I was ready to settle down. I've been a nomad all my life, and I had to find out if my life could be anything but that. I had to know if it was what would satisfy me. You know that. Now I know."
He doesn't have to tell me the conclusion he reached. The fact that he is here and the simple statement he made with his lips make that clear. He's here for an answer.
As I press my lips against his, I give him one.
Quite suddenly, the view doesn't seem to matter anymore.
OWARI
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