Author: Zazu
Rating: G
Warning: Sap
Pairing: 1+2+1
Author's Note: Beta-read by Deb. I can't remember when today this image came to me but I wrote it as soon as I got home. The mental image had me going 'awww' for most of the night. =)
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, nor do I own the characters. I have borrowed them here for some fun and creativity, and this is not for profit. I do, however, own the plot mentioned here and any instances that you may find similar to real life events are purely a coincidence.
The Couch
One thing that I really enjoy doing is to curl up on the couch. Yes, the living room has a state-of-the-art entertainment system, thanks to the decent salary from Preventers, but the couch is the centerpiece of the living room; any living room. At least, it is to me.
Nothing is better than stretching out on a couch and then curling up. Whether it's to watch television, to listen to music, to read a book or to take a nap, curled up on the couch is one of the most comfortable places to be. With the light blanket I keep thrown over the back of the couch for use and a fluffy, soft cushion just by my head, I sometimes find it harder to get up from there than from bed in the early mornings.
But now? Now I always have to sit up, almost squished into one corner of the couch, leaning against the tall armrest. Legs out in front of me, not even crossed. It's like when I go to someone else's home and I have to sit up and rigid because it's not polite to sprawl on someone else's couch unless it's a close buddy. Not to mention that chances are, it wouldn't be as comfortable anyway. Except at Quatre's. He's got some very decent couches. But this is my own couch and my body aches to stretch out, then curl up.
There's a tug on my braid and I looked down. Then I smiled a little, threading my fingers through Heero's soft messy locks. He's asleep and still clutching my braid.
It's been like this since he moved in two months ago. Unless he's away, I don't get to curl up on the couch. He stretches his long, toned figure along the couch, and there I am, squished into a corner at the side with my lap as his pillow to boot.
He scrunched his nose a little as he brought his fist up to his own cheek, causing the end of my braid to tickle his nose. Then he's relaxed again, dreaming about who knows what. I brush his hair lightly and after a few minutes he blinks his eyes open and looks up at me with a sleepy smile. I smile back and he kisses the end of my braid, as he usually does when he wakes up from one of these naps.
The gesture is enough to send a warm, loved feeling through me, and now that's what matters more than getting to curl up on a couch. So long as Heero is here with me, it's all that matters.
OWARI
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