Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Blood and Roses ❯ Dear Diary ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Title: Blood and Roses 1/?
Author: Ashurii (Jisatsu_ganbu on LJ.com aka Celestial_Dragon on FF.net)
E-mail: automatic_girl@orangeday.net
Rating: Erm. R, right now. *evil hentai grin*
Series: Gundam Wing
Pairings: 1+2, 3x4
Warnings: Depressed Duo, cutting, lamenting Heero, angst
Summary: Duo feels he is too far gone to ever come back to happiness, and cuts himself for release. Heero tries, but to no avail, to bring him back. How will Heero deal when Duo cuts himself deeper than he ever has before?

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Have you ever had that dark, dank, shallow feeling? That feeling of innate hoplessness and dire need for something, anything, but you just don't know what? Maybe it sneaks up on you while you're asleep; or dozing off in class; or mayble when you're alone in your room, watching the sinister shadows play against the bare walls, and realize your life is for shit and there's only one thing you can do to change it.

Welcome to my life.

You'd think things would be different for me, now that I have a home and am surrounded by friends, but I've learned the hard way that some things never change. Perhaps the pain will dull over the period of a few days, but it always comes back - stronger and harder than it ever was before. My mask, the face I show to everyone around me, is bruised and breaking. I don't know how much longer I can keep up this facade. I can't even walk through the kitchen in our shared house without feeling that delicious throbbing feeling in my wrists.

Oh, yes, you heard right. Duo Maxwell, Gundam Pilot and self-titled God of Death has an odd facination with seeing that red liquid flowing through his veins pouring out in torrents and oozing out into a puddle on the bathroom floor.

Is that wrong? I ... I seriously don't know anymore ...

What makes it worse is that they know. The whole house knows.

I was making a sandwich with my sleeves rolled up several months ago, and Quatre was in the kitchen. Quatre, bless him, he's a good kid ... but he could never understand. He saw the raw marks on my forearms from the night before and gasped, came over and pulled up my arm.

"Duo," he breathed, eyes wide. "What happened?" I didn't reply and he looked into my eyes. I could see the realization and turned away, pulling my arm out of his grasp. I grabbed my half finished sandwich and went back to my room. Didn't come out until the next morning.

I'm sure he told everyone. I've heard them talk about me. They'll have meetings with each other, dissecting my behavior as if they were qualified to do so, and become silent once I walk in the room. It pisses me off, what right do they have to judge me? To talk about me? They don't even understand what's going on!

... They don't care enough to want to know. So they all just back up and give me space. No one really talks to me anymore, but I don't care. They never cared before, why should I care now?

Heero doesn't know yet. He was gone a long while, on some kind of self-righteous mission he had to go on. I'd call it a vacation, but he'd get angry with me.

Heero's the only person I've ever really listened to. The only one who just might ...

He says he loves me. I don't buy it. No one's ever loved me, and no one ever will. He'll come to my room and night and hold me, stroke my hair, whisper in my ear. Sometimes I lock my door from the inside so he'll leave me alone. He gives me an odd feeling I've never felt before, he makes me want to tell him what I've been doing and I can't do that. So I shut him out, literally. He gives me sad glances when I finally come out, but I just give him hollow stares in return. That's how I feel, you know. Hollow. I think I've drained too much of my blood. I doubt there could be much more left in my body.

If Heero told me to stop cutting, I just might do it. Might, being the operative word. It scares me sometimes that someone could have such power over me. I guess that's another reason I shut him out, too.

He kissed me yesterday.

It surprised me, I wasn't expecting it at all. I was sitting in this little folding chair I found in the attic and had set up in front of the picture window in the living room. I figured If I was going to go through with it, take that last plunge and cut deeper than I ever had, I might as well have a last look at the outside world. I used to love nature, dancing in the rain and playing in the leaves, but that was a long time ago. It seems really faded, as if an eternity has passed since that point in my life. But, for all I know I could have seen these scenes in a movie and just super-imposed myself into them for lack of happy memories.

I don't know. I just don't know any more.

Anyway, I was just sitting there, minding myself and thinking silently like I always do, when I felt his hand on my shoulder. I couldn't move it; I felt too weak, so I just let him set it there. I heard him call my name but it sounded distant. I ignored him, just kept looking out that window. He bent down and I could feel his breath on my neck. He whispered my name again and I shivered. How can he do that to me, make me feel so strange, so good and so bad at the same time? I felt his lips against my neck and my eyelids fluttered, my brain desperately trying to keep up with this new change of pace. His hand snaked up my thigh and onto my lap to entwine with one of my own. He caressed my fingers with his thumb as he kissed me again, and I think I might have smiled. He was saying something to me between these gentle kisses, but I couldn't make out what it was. Everything was still too distant sounding for me to understand. He moved to make soft kisses against my jaw, whispering things between each kiss as he moved closer to my lips. My heart pounded and my body felt like it was tingling.

I couldn't help wondering what was going on. What was he doing to me? It felt ... good. For the first time in my life something other than that flashing, razor-sharp blade was making me feel good.

He turned my face towards his with his fingers, and he looked at me with sadness in his beautiful blue eyes. He whispered something else to me, and I tried to read his lips but I couldn't. Still too far away to hear. He leaned in so our noses were touching and I became terrified. Of what, I have no idea, but I must have said something because his expression changed to one tinged with pain. He looked as if someone had slapped him, and the crazy thing was ... I wasn't even sure If I hadn't. His gaze dropped to the floor, then slowly reaturned back up to me. He cupped my face in his hands, they were warm and felt nice against my cold skin. Then he leaned forward and pressed his soft lips to mine, in a warm, chaste kiss. He licked at my lips with the tip of his tounge as if begging me to deepen it, but I sat unflinching. I couldn't move, and I wasn't even sure If I wanted to. He pulled back from me, finally, with an odd choking sound, and his eyes were swimming with unshed tears. He sighed painfully and stood, leaving the room with fast strides as if trying to escape his failure.

I was struck with this sudden, overpowerful urge to run after him, but my body wouldn't respond to my brain. So, I just turned back to the window.

I feel like shit. He's too good for me.

How do they end it all all those movies? "Goodbye, cruel world?" Cliché, but fitting.

-Duo Maxwell