Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Atmosphere (Vignette) ❯ One-Shot

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Title: Atmosphere
Paring:5+1
Author: Melcena
Contact: melcena@hotmail.com
Archive? Ask
Warnings: Angst, short, draft version. Pre-EW.
Comments: Erm... since my huge angsty alternate universe fics aren't
cooperating with me I've once again turned to a short angsty fic
which focuses more on flow than plot. But I didn't kill anyone this
time! Anyway, this is sort of my version of the way
things /could/ have been going for Wufei between the series and EW.
It's just the first draft and I'm not too happy with the way it ends.
If anyone has any, I'm open to suggestions.

/.../ = italics
--------------------------------------------------------------- -------


I have a strange facination with the hollow of his throat. The skin
is so fragile there, so thin, while his life beats away just beneath.
Every time we make love I have to touch it, with lips, with tongue,
with teeth. And I know that I am the only one who sees him so
vulnerable. I am the only one who has ever touched him, gently, with
the full knowledge of what it means to him.

The others would be surprised by how much a simple touch is to him.

No one would ever suspect the amount of tactile contact he really
needs - he was raised with so little love. My own family was never
affectionate and rarely praising but I never doubted that they loved
me, in their own ways. Heero never even had that. All he's ever
known is mission acknowledged, mission completed. Now, during
peacetime, all of his training, his entire way of life is obsolete.
And he doesn't know what to do. He's lost in a world that no longer
needs him to do it's dirty work. So he's turned to the only type of
communication he's ever really been comfortable with - the physical.

He always has to touch me to make sure I'm here. His feelings
manifest physically and he needs me to reciprocate in the same way.
With him it's always small brushes of hands and lips, sitting close
enough to touch, acting as if the bed is twice as small as it really
is. He needs so much and sometimes I'm afraid that I can't give him
enough.

We are both so unsure. I've never truly been in a relationship
before. My wife died before I really had a chance to know her, before
I had a chance to love her. I don't know the finer points of being in
love or of allowing myself to be loved. For a long time after Meiran
died I didn't believe I was worth such an emotion. On some levels I
still don't.

Heero hasn't had much more experience. I know he spent some time with
Maxwell after the war - in what capacity, though, I'm uncertain.
Maxwell has been half in love with him from the beginning. There are
nights, lying tangled with him in our bed in our room in our house, I
wonder what made him choose me. He always knows when I am thinking
those thoughts. When I let myself wander into them he invariably
makes a point of pressing closer to me. It's his way of saying /I'm
here. I'm not going anywhere/. And I know he isn't.

'Love' is a word that has passed between us only rarely. Neither of
us are given to verbal communication and expressing things in words
doesn't come naturally. The few times either of us have managed to
say 'I love you' has always been accompanied by a rush of something
akin to fear. I've often told myself to feel so is weakness -
everything he inspires in me is weakness - yet I can never find it in
myself to walk away. I /need/ him. And that scares me more than
anything.

I've never liked admitting to needing anything in the first place.

I gotten past most of my self-doubt, most of my self-loathing. Yet
there are still times when I look at him and wonder how I could ever
deserve to hold his heart. He's so very open to me - if I ever wanted
to, I could hurt him easily. It's a frightening amount of power to
hold over anyone, but especially him. Especially Heero, the one so
many have called indestructible.

I don't want to trust myself with that. I don't want to trust myself
not to break the skin at the base of his throat. I want to think that
it would hurt him less if I left sooner rather than later. But /I
don't know how to let him go/.

And sometimes, when he's lying quietly, anticipatingly beneath me I
feel as if the entire world is pressing down on me, crushing the air
out of my lungs and all I can think is /I can't breathe I can't
breathe I can't breathe/. But I remind myself that it's Heero -
/Heero/ - and it passes.

Still. Still. There has to be something wrong with me. I love him so.