Author: hostilecrayon
Paring: 1x2
Rating: PG
Warnings: None really, a bit fluffish
Disclaimer: I don't own GW.
Notes: Written for the gw500, where you write 500 words of fanfiction per challenge.
Understand
I just don't understand him sometimes. Well, let me rephrase that. I just don't understand what draws me to him sometimes. I'd like to spout off about light and dark, fate and destiny, but that really has nothing to do with it.
We are quite the opposites. Heero is quiet and reserved; I am loud and obnoxious. He is all logic and practicality; I'm all about gut instinct and ingenuity. He fits in with Relena's stuffy suit and fancy dress parties; I fit in on the corner of 5th and Broadway. Heero speaks at UNES conferences; I speak constantly, on any topic and for any reason. Heero's biggest dream has always been peace; mine has always been a lasting home.
No, fate isn't so cruel as to stick such opposites together. Only a dreaming boy from L2 would so blatantly ignore such huge differences.
He's sitting there, pounding away at his laptop, blissfully unaware that anything other than reports even exist. His strange determination to focus so fully on something so trivial as a report is one of the many things I don't understand about him. It's something I've come to recognize as just Heero, and leave it at that.
Despite these moments of confusion, there's a lot about Heero that I do understand.
When Heero drinks coffee, he makes it three parts coffee, two parts cream and just a small spoon of sugar, exactly like the very first cup of coffee I ever made him.
If Heero is asleep and his nose starts to twitch ever so slightly, I wake him immediately. It means he's having a nightmare.
I never give Heero food unless I know he's hungry. He'll eat it no matter what out of courtesy, even though I've told him repeatedly to just tell me if he doesn't want it.
If Heero wakes up before me, he'll make my lunch and set breakfast out on the table for me.
People always ask me what I see in him. No one outside of our circle can understand the gravity between us. They don't know Heero, and they don't know our history. I usually just smile and tell them there're too many things to list.
I don't blame them, really. At work, Heero and I are two completely different people. He ignores me all day in favor of his computer. He's short, blunt and seemingly unfeeling. There's no way they could know what he sounds like when he whispers or what it feels like to be on the receiving end of his loving fingers. They don't have the pleasure of knowing his sweet scent that lingers for hours in the bathroom after he showers or the rich flavors of his unique style of cooking. They've never seen him break down and cry himself to sleep while they held him.
No, they couldn't understand, and though I sometimes forget, when he looks up at me like he is now, his end of the day smile brings it all back.
OWARI
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