Title: Palm Trees
Author: Kiarene
Pairings: 3x4, 5x13
Rating: G
Summary: Quatre thinks
Published:
Disclaimer: You know the drill
Note: For some odd reason, I started the
Autumn Coffee AU from Quatre’ POV, then switched over to third person for the
other pilots. For some other odd reason, I’ve been keeping to that even though
I think it’s not too consistent. Still, first person works for this chapter.
Sorry about any confusion.
Palm Trees
I flipped
my cell phone close, trying to ignore the lump in my throat. I could still hear
Trowa’s latest message.
“Please
come back, Quatre.”
I had never
heard this …*broken* tone from him before.
“I’m
…sorry. I have been an asshole. I don’t know what to say… what I can say or
*do* to make you realize that I…” And his voice cracked, almost crying.
“Quatre, please. I know I don’t deserve it but… just give me another chance.”
I placed my
phone down on the plastic table beside me and leaned back on the white plastic
lounge chair. The soft swishing of the surf and rustling of the palm trees
shading me did nothing to calm the turbulent emotions within me. My overly
large sunglasses slid down my nose bridge and I pushed them up again.
“Please…”
As far as I
could remember, Trowa has never pleaded. Never begged.
“I miss you
so much, Quat.”
He is
always the strong one, the stoic one, while I’m usually the sensitive one. The
one who cried. My eyes stung.
It hurt. I
don’t hate Trowa, I could never hate him. I didn’t leave because I hate him or
because I want him to suffer. I never wanted him to hurt.
Though the
air was warm and humid, a delightful breeze from the sea and the trees kept me
from overheating. Still, a fine sheen of sweat covered my back, which stuck
uncomfortably to the plastic lounge chair. Turning slightly to my side, I
sighed at the cool relief.
Lying on my
side, I could see Duo having fun, his braid swinging as he bounced energetically
around in the sand, still as nimble and acrobatic as he had been in his youth. The
spectators in the beach volleyball match cheered as he scored another point
with a well-placed spike. Where does he find the energy? I grew up in a desert
so I am comfortable with the heat, but I’d always been taught to avoid the
worst of the sun and relax during the hottest parts of the day. It became a
habit.
Leaving had
been a good idea. Actually, I knew I should have left a long time ago. So that
was not the problem.
We’ve been
crisscrossing
Therein lay
my problem.
I *was*
unhappy. I *needed* to get away. Our relationship is abusive and poisonous, any
love we might had would have been slowly faded away. So I left.
But, I
still am not happy. If anything, I am even more miserable.
My eyes
flickered to my phone again. Trowa had called me every day, just once a day,
but he has never missed a day. I never picked up but he always left a message
on my voicemail, pleading for me to forgive me.
To go home.
I looked at
Duo again, torn. Duo had broken up with Heero last year; an ‘official’ breakup
with Heero removing what little of his own possessions from Duo’s apartment,
but they have been steadily drifting apart since the war ended. Heero had
duties on Earth; Duo chose to stay on L2. It had only been a matter of time.
Duo hadn’t
missed Heero at all, and Heero hadn’t tried to contact him. I have no doubt
Heero knew Duo was no longer on L2 — he’s scary like that — but he probably
didn’t care. For Duo, all he needed was a change of pace, an abrupt change of
environment to jar him out of his apathetic state. For Duo, this trip is a
vacation; for me, the painful breakup of the only romantic relationship I have
ever had.
Duo is
happy.
I am not.
Closing my
eyes with a sigh, I thought about Duo’s advice. About going out, about trying
again. After all, Trowa was my only boyfriend. What do I know?
…I knew that
the couple of times Duo has tried to set me up with another guy, usually in a
group date with him, always ended up in a disaster. I couldn’t stop thinking
about Trowa.
Then I
thought about it. About picking up the phone and calling him. About going back,
about trying again.
“Please come back, Quatre.”
I picked up
my phone.
~*~