Fandom: Masashi Ikeda & co’s Gundam Wing, including side stories
Spoilers & Desirable Foreknowledge: All of the above, though nothing specific from the sidestories.
Characters & Relationships: Heero x Relena
Summary: Heero and Relena, emotion and sensation in six drabbles. (Or: love and peace and other fuzzy feelings with only a prompt set as an excuse.)
Author’s Note: Or or, look what I found at the bottom of a shoebox!
Relena floats in a haze of rippling light, with arms outstretched and face turned upward. The glistening of the waves is blinding, but her tranquil expression easily outshines it.
"Swimming... is it anything like flying?"
The sun is warm and the water is cool, a comforting embrace of freedom. He closes his eyes and twists beneath the surface for a moment, immersing himself wholly in the feeling, and becomes aware of the air in his lungs, the blood in his veins, the strength in his muscles. It's different from the short-lived immortality of adrenaline, flaring up fiercely and quick to burn out.
Seeing Relena upon resurfacing, he knows which he prefers.
Time was running out, the pressure rising. He stayed in the shadows as of yet, but soon the sign would come, and he would no longer be able to hide.
Passively waiting for the opportunity to escape from a situation he could not handle to pass, went against every instinct he had ever honed, but he had agreed to do this himself.
He just hadn't realised, when he did, that he had no idea how to deal with the situation he was about to be thrown into. And at the moment, that was freaking him out.
His heart stopped when he saw her. Relena did not look like she belonged here, tonight; she looked like the night belonged to her.
"Are you ready?"
She smiled at him, and his heart continued beating, spreading the calm confidence she exuded through his veins. Relena had followed him into the heart of the battlefield, had learned the way to bring him back when he became lost in memories in the dark of night and lost sight of the morning light.
What was a dinner party in comparison, if it meant he could follow her into her world?
"I'll be right by your side."
As a clock deep inside the house struck noon, Relena's lips curled into a wry smile. She'd been awake for hours and had yet to move an inch, trapped beneath the gentle weight of Heero's arm, just watching him sleep.
Sunlight fluttered in from between the wafting curtains; they had been blissfully careless last night, going to bed with the glass balcony doors wide open, and now a pleasant breeze alleviated the day's warmth. Articles of clothing, most of which painfully easy to wrinkle, haphazardly littered every surface, and a tray laden with the remains of bowls full of delicacies, crumb-riddled plates, a half-empty crystal decanter and glasses stained with lipstick, balanced precariously on the edge of the bedside table.
It was only the second day of their honeymoon, but marrying him had already made a negligent, lazy slob out of her. And as he finally stirred, mumbling incoherently and tightening his arm around her before smiling at her, eyes still heavy with sleep, she could only love him more for it.
He wakes to her sprawled inelegantly beside him, limbs askew, tangled hair obscuring her eyes, lips parted soundlessly.
A twist and a snap, a flat-palmed thrust, an elbow jab - empty eyes, gurgling, rasping breath cut, trickling blood, slack-open lips.
He grabs for her wrist; warm, firm, pulsing. Twisting sleepily, her posture turns toward him, her fingers brush his cheek.
A caress, a kiss, a rhythm - eyes closing in overload, arching, clutching limbs, mouth wide open in a silent gasp.
He pulls her close, wraps himself around her, holds her; knowing just how tight, her heartbeat soothing his.
The days preceding New Year's Eve made Heero jittery. Cracks and shrieking whistles and explosions out of nowhere - it brought back memories that didn't agree with the festive atmosphere and smiling faces, echoes of harsh cries cruelly cut off, violently rupturing metal, the scent of blood and death mixing through the slowly building gunpowder fumes.
In a way, these bangs were just like those before - how different was fighting to create a better future from ringing in the new year with bright lights and loud noises to scare away last year's evil spirits?
But when the night came, he was the first one out on the roof, and his eyes didn't leave the sky for a moment.
Before long, he felt Relena come up behind him. She set two steaming mugs down on the balustrade and draped a woollen blanket over their shoulders, drawing close to his side. Her hand found his fingers cold and cramped around the stone and her eyes raked his profile.
"Are you okay?"
The echoes still rang in his ears. Maybe they would never really go away. But they no longer drowned out the present. Every passing year they grew more faint, faded faster. These booms were no desperate pleas to him - they were exclamations of joy, the webs and wheels and fountains spreading the warm glow of completion, of victory.
Heero abandoned the sky to study Relena's face in the dancing, everchanging glow. "It just keeps getting better."
He kissed her and tasted chocolate on her lips. She'd started on the treats before him. But no matter, he thought as she let him into her mouth; he'd catch up.
She seems unreachable from the doorway. It makes his step falter, his resolve waver.
ESUN's Vice Foreign Minister Relena Darlian, born Relena Peacecraft. Youngest non-hereditary government official in recorded history. Former Queen of the World. She looks the part, sitting straight-backed behind a majestic, ornate desk, pen in hand, forms laid out in front of her, frown-lines between her eyebrows.
This is the young woman he entrusted the fate of the world to when he walked away. The girl he left behind because she did not need him, because there was no place or use for him by her side and there was an endless world without duty or expectation waiting for him.
He has no reason to come back into the life of the person sitting behind that desk.
He hesitates. She looks up.
Relena calls his name and stands up, emerging from behind the desk. And Heero crosses the threshold, because she is still the one who never needs a reason to welcome him.