Wonderwall
By Link Worshiper

Pairing: 1+2+1
Rating: PG
Notes: shounen-ai, yaoi, Heero POV, song-fic (of course), slight angst, smooches and sap for your holidays
Disclaimers: GW copyright of Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency; lyrics copyright of Oasis (such a beautiful song, though!)

Dedicated to a certain 2x1-er who knows exactly who she is, just so she knows how much I heart her. And that I’m sorry. To err is human; to forgive is divine!

And also to Merith and danse, who helped me feel better when things really looked grim.

~ * ~ AC 195 ~ * ~

[Today is gonna be the day
That they’re gonna throw it back to you.]

“I h-hate Ch-Christmas,” Duo bit out with chattering teeth. His pale lips were a light blue, and his skin almost white, even though he wore a scarf, gloves and a fat ski jacket. I watched his hands rub his shins for warmth earnestly.

“I don’t see what this particular day ever did to you,” I retorted with a light snort, my own, chilled lips quivering slightly. I was bundled up as well, but I was still just as cold as him. The snowflakes fluttered down from above and stuck to my eyelashes and the jagged, mahogany brown bangs that stuck out over my forehead from underneath my knit hat.

“Th-That’s right! It n-never did do a-anything! Th-That’s exactly why I h-hate it… for l-leaving me out, that is,” Duo retorted indignantly, folding his legs closer to his chest.

Truth be told, if Duo hadn’t made the comment, I probably wouldn’t have even realized that it was Christmas at all. When you’re hardly fifteen and fighting just for the right to take you’re next breath, the last thing you’re thinking about is something as frivolous as a holiday. Case and point in our current situation, huddled together in three inches of falling snow, tucked behind a wall of large, wooden crates in a back alley while we waited for the streets to clear of patrolling OZ soldiers. We had just infiltrated and sabotaged the base three blocks down the street, and after our hasty, explosive getaway, we were stuck laying low until the coast was clear. It would have been pretty hard to make a clean, unassuming getaway with a pair of submachine guns apiece; Duo wore a belt of grenades as well, and I still had two clips of ammo in one pocket.

[By now, you should’ve somehow
Realized what you gotta do.]

“A-And it’s cold,” Duo added morosely to his previous statement. He frowned at the frost-dusted wall opposite us and slid his feet forward, creating twin trails in the snow.

“Shh,” I hissed, pulling a stiff, mitten-clad finger to my lips as I peered through the tiny crack between the two huge crates beside me, spying on the slushy street down the alley. I could see a brown motorcycle with the OZ lion emblazoned on it leaning on its kick stand by the curb, its uniformed driver standing beside it and lighting himself a cigarette. I pulled the collar of my parka up and watched the soldier’s every movement for any signs that he had noticed us. It paid to be extra careful when you lived your life on the run.

“And y-you’re not h-helping with th-that ‘tude of yours,” he grumbled, his teeth still clattering.

For a frightening, paranoid second, I feared that some OZ soldier with extra-keen hearing would hear his loud, gnashing teeth. I sent him a glare over my shoulder, and was about to turn back around to my spy-hole, when I caught sight of that absolutely dejected look on his face. For all his bravado, Duo had a pretty sensitive collection of feelings, and he was easily prone to taking things the wrong way. And more often than not, he misread my sometimes aloof, short dealings with him, which stabbed at my conscious and my heart every time he frowned on my account.

Still, the fact of the matter was that he was making too much noise for my comfort zone, but I had no idea how to tell him this without making him even more upset, possibly angry, with me. I settled for shooting him a warning glare over my shoulder.

I watched the OZ soldier as he smoked his cigarette, waving amiably to a mother and daughter as they walked by, laden with shopping bags filled with wrapped packages. I had never seen so many presents in one place in my entire life, much less with just two people. I wondered if Duo had ever seen that much wrapping paper. I stole a glance backwards at Duo, who had curled up against the wall, dozing to rectify his noisiness, and found the sleepy expression on his face strangely endearing. I quickly averted my eyes and turned to stare fixedly between the crates again, returning my attention the street just in time to see the OZ soldier offer to carry the little girl’s bags.

Often, especially when I had down time like this, I found myself wondering why I even put up with Duo. Unlike my other comrades or Relena, he served no particular purpose other than his own, personal vendetta against OZ. And though he had his uses, he had proven to be a liability already. I questioned my motives yet again as to why I hadn’t killed him that one time; unlike Relena, Duo wasn’t an influential politician that was essential to our cause, or even noticeable person, like Quatre Winner. No one would have missed him if I’d killed him in that prison cell.

Except for maybe me.

The corners of my lips dropped at this realization. I had never done anything for radically selfish or personal reasons in my life, and yet, I had no other excuse for what I’d done for Duo except that I, Heero Yuy, did not want him to die. I rescued him for me; I kept him alive for me.

[I don’t believe that anybody
Feels the way I do
About you, now.]

I stole another quick glance at him. He had slumped over on his side in his sleep, his head pillowed in the arm he had folded beneath his head in the powdery snow. His long braid slithered around his head and lay pointing at the scraggly, abandoned Christmas tree leaning in the corner of the dead-end ally. He would have looked completely innocent, like some poor, orphaned urchin, if it hadn’t been for the large hunting knife visibly strapped to his thigh. His teeth were still chattering, his lips bluer than before and his skin beginning to take on a faint, rosy colour. I could tell he wasn’t really sleeping, but merely putting on a front to appease me.

Feeling worse still for this little rift between us, I crawled away from the crates and settled next to him, reaching down to pull his shivering figure out of the snow to rest against the side of my body. I don’t think I could have lived with myself if I knew I had been the cause for him catching pneumonia or frostbite. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, he was my best friend, my only real friend. No on else quite instilled the same feelings and reactions in me that he did. Perhaps it was because I felt that he and I were the same? Like the sun and the moon, I supposed; no one else quite understood what it was like to have been abandoned in space to wander through the stars alone. Whatever it was, I knew it wasn’t quite like any of the other relationships I shared. Was that why I valued it so?

[Backbeat, the word is on the street
That the fire in your heart is out.]

“Y-You’re real warm, Heero,” murmured Duo into my parka. I could hear the guns clattering under his jacket as he repositioned himself, leaning into my body more. “M-Maybe lots of other p-people th-think you’re a c-cold b-bastard, but I know y-you’re not.”

My blue eyes darted downwards, staring at the crown of snow sprinkled on the top of his head. “Are you delirious, Duo?” I asked, worried he might actually be getting sick.

He just sneezed and rubbed his red-tipped nose.

That wasn’t a good sign. I frantically started racking my brains for a safe way to bring him to Deathscythe, where he was sure to be warm. Logically, I knew that in reality, both of our Gundams were too far away for such an emergency trip. For a crazy second, I even entertained the idea of ditching our arsenal and bringing him to the nearby OZ medical clinic.

Oh, there I went again! My thoughts returned to my earlier mental grouse that questioned my motives for always going out of my way to keep Duo alive. I could just hear Dr. J’s condescending voice in my head, calling me weak and sentimental for clinging to another person so desperately. That man had always been resolute in his idea that other people would drag me down, that I didn’t need them to function, to serve my purpose. I guess J forgot that at the end of the day, I really wasn’t a soldier, but really just a lonely street kid he’d brought in from the cold.

“H-Heero?”

I returned my attention to him, noticing the way he was shaking in my arms. He really didn’t look good at all, almost transparent, like a ghost. He seemed to be drowning in his ski jacket, its bright orange colour blotching out his ashen skin.

Despite his unhealthy appearance, he was still sporting that usual, big grin of his. “D-Do we have t-to be out here m-much l-longer?” he asked, sinking lower against my body, melting like an ice cube in summer. “It’s f-fuckin’ c-cold.”

I pursed my lips and turned to peer between the crates. The OZ motorcycle was still there, but the soldier had yet to return. An inspirational idea suddenly implanted itself in my head, and before I knew it, the logically programmed circuit of my brain was hashing out a scheme to get us to the Gundams quickly.

“Stand up, Duo,” I ordered, hoping I didn’t come off too harsh. I had a bad habit of slipping into what Duo had dubbed ‘mission mode’, and whenever I did, I often only thought of things in terms of ‘accomplished’ and ‘failure’, which didn’t leave much room for worrying about how I came off to other people. Briefly, I wondered if Duo was able to discern this facet of my personality from the rest of me, which was far more fragile than I lead others to believe. Could he sense my loneliness?

Duo got to his feet, and I was glad to see that he could at least stand on his own. He was still rubbing and patting himself like mad to keep warm, the cold air puffing in large, hazy clouds over his lips. The snow had made both of us very wet, and I could feel it starting to refreeze on my jeans. “Where are we going now?” he asked, following me out of the alley, towards the street, shaking his hands and legs to limber up his frozen limbs.

“Somewhere safe,” I assured him, checking both ways as I stepped out of the alley and onto the sidewalk. Finding the street deserted, I carefully proceeded, hearing the crunching of Duo’s boots in the snow behind me. I approached the motorcycle and hastily dusted the snow off the seat, preparing to clamber on. I paused, my knee resting on the leather seat, and I twisted around to look at him. “What’s wrong?” I asked, sensing a bit of reservation from him. “You’re clearly getting sick, Duo. I need to bring you to a place where I can take care of you properly.”

His head was cocked, one eyebrow arched as he stared at me quizzically. Then his lips twisted up into a smirk, his eyes narrowing slightly as he started to chuckle. Then he let out a whoop of laughter and smacked his knee, “Wow! You thought I was comin’ down with something?” He playfully batted at me with both hands. “You really care!”

I failed to see where the joke was, or what was funny, and I’m sure the expression on my face amplified that.

[I’m sure you’ve heard it all before,
But you never really had a doubt.]

He was still laughing a little as he neared the motorcycle, a hand on each hip. “Man, I was just cold from sitting there in the snow for almost two hours, that’s all! I feel better now that I’ve got my blood moving around again!” To prove his point, he executed a rather impressive flip, landing in a near crouch at my feet. “See?” he said, looking up through his long, overgrown bangs to meet my eyes. “Fit as a fiddle! Just needed to loosen the old joints up, ya know?”

Suddenly, I could feel a surge of warmth blasting through my body, radiating my cheeks and intensifying the faint, pink blush that hued them. I felt very silly for jumping to such a conclusion; Duo had probably been on the streets longer than I had, and there was no way he could have survived as long as he did without some kind of killer immunity system and stamina. Had I made this mistake with someone else, I don’t think I would have felt such a fool, but for some reason, Duo always tore at my regular mode of operation. There was something about him that was just so different from everyone else I knew. Everyone else seemed to follow certain patterns, but Duo defied every shred of logic. And yet, even in his seeming chaos, Duo made more sense to me than anyone; he was so much more real.

[I don’t believe that anybody
Feels the way I do
About you, now.]

Just then, there was a loud shout from up the street. Both of us snapped our attention in the direction of the sound, alarmed at the sight of the OZ soldier, running towards his bike and us, drawing his pistol out of its holster. “You there! Stop!” he was shouting as I quickly dismounted the motorcycle, grabbing Duo by the hand and pulling him after me as I ran.

I was dimly aware of the sound of gunfire as we flew down the snowy street, my mountain boots skidding on the slippery pavement. I felt a biting sting zing at my cheek as one of the soldier’s bullets nipped my face, a dribble of blood starting to gush from the nick. Suddenly, Duo ripped his hand out of mine, and there was the rattle of a gun, and then the rapid burst of submachine gun fire; I heard a few bullet casings hit the pavement, one of them nailing me on the foot. Out of the corner of my eye, I could just make out Duo, standing still as a statue, one of his submachine guns held forward and smoking slightly at the muzzle. At the other end of the block, I could just make out the blue uniform of the soldier, crumpled in a scarlet patch of snow.

I turned to face my friend, eyeing him curiously. Hardly a minute ago, he had been laughing like he hadn’t a care in the world, but now, but now he stood almost completely motionless, his face the very picture of severity as he stared at the dead OZ soldier with empty eyes. It was no wonder to me why he called himself the God of Death, but it was still strange to see the Grim Reaper in an orange ski jacket and a scarf. Dangerous as Duo was in his violent mood swings, I couldn’t help but be morbidly fascinated by this aspect of his personality. I knew that because of that unpredictability Duo was the sort of free soul who could never be tamed, would never belong to anybody. It was his shield, his way of protecting himself from the world that had cut him so deeply.

His gun arm fell to his side as he took a deep, calming breath. Shouts and sirens were starting to fill the empty air, signaling that it was time for us to make our exit. The submachine gun disappeared under his coat as he tucked it back in its holster and zipped it back up. He started towards me, slowly, making a droll comment about how pensive I looked.

I hardly noticed what he was jabbering about as he neared me, my eyes instead homing in on the scarlet-tinted hole in the shoulder of his jacket, where bits of down were fluttering away in the breeze. Narrowing my gaze, I suddenly realized why he had been so quick to put his casual airs back on; Duo Maxwell would never admit to being hurt or wounded for all the credits in the universe. I would address that as soon as we were somewhere safe. As he got close to me, I grabbed his arm and started pulling him down another street, anxious to get out of there before any more OZ soldiers appeared.

[And all the roads we have to walk are winding.]

Wordlessly, I tugged him down the road until we reached an old, abandoned stoop. Some old garland and ribbon hung over the lintel. I sat and drew him down next to me on the snowy step. Without preamble, I said, “That was careless.”

He was immediately defensive, which I should have expected. “Look, he pulled that gun and started firing like crazy,” Duo hissed back, leaning against the rickety door behind him. “The last thing I was gonna do was get shot in the back by some OZ cretin while I was running the fuck away… especially when I had two, bigger, better guns of my own!” He made sure to keep his voice low too, but the biting quality of his tone was still there.

“But he did shoot you,” I said accusingly, glaring at the rip in Duo’s jacket, which had become even more soaked with red blood since I’d last looked.

“He shot you first,” Duo retorted evenly, his voice no longer betraying anything. His hand moved across the gap between us as he spoke, like he was going to touch the little wound on my cheek, but stopped and retracted it just as his fingers were about to brush at the crusted, brownish-red blood.

I opened my mouth to say something else, but swallowed it almost immediately, unsure of exactly how to word my thoughts; I figured it would be safer to just not say anything, rather than risk making Duo truly angry. I had known Duo to only slip into his role as God of Death when he felt personally violated; did that mean his outburst of rage was because I had been hit? That shallow, hardly noticeable, little nick had been the catalyst for such a display of heartless revenge? I had the overwhelming urge to ask, wanting to know what that meant.

[And all the lights that lead us there are blinding.]

A few moments of silence passed between us as we sat and stared at the snow-caked street ahead of us. It was getting to be dusk, and the wreath-hung street lamps were beginning to go on. Coloured holiday lights strung from every which way blinked brightly in the darkening sky. The festive air was just a guise, though; I knew that both Duo and I could see beyond the empty glow of the twinkling lights. All of it seemed so trite, so stupid, just meaningless decorations to make an ordinary day appear to be out of the ordinary. This day was just like every other day of my life: tiring, painful and cold; I didn’t see why it was worth celebrating. Together, we sat and watched the fiery end to another day in the life.

“Hey, man, I’m sorry,” Duo spoke up at last, just as the sun was pulling its last rays behind the horizon.

I turned my head to look at him, blinking strangely at him. “For what?” I wondered, pulling at a dying sprig of mistletoe that someone had stuck between the bricks of the wall beside me.

“For being so careless,” he answered, staring out across the street. His hands were folded beneath his chin and his elbows were propped up on his knees. He was starting to shiver a bit again. “I mean, I just overreacted, I guess. But I… well, I didn’t want to take any chances, ya know?”

I was pretty sure he knew what I was thinking without my having to say anything, so I just made a small, grunting noise to acknowledge that I’d heard him and kept silent. Though I must admit that I did wonder what sort of chances he was afraid to risk.

“And, well,” he went on, the Christmas lights blinking flashes of red, blue, green and yellow on his face, “I suppose I kind of wanted to prove to you that I’m not totally useless, ya know? That I can save your butt too.”

I turned to look at him, fascinated by the way the blinking colours shone in his long hair. Even though that braid of his was pretty unique, by most standards, Duo had fairly plain features. But I found his simple appearance was what made him so attractive to a person like me. I kind of felt like I wanted to tell him that, so he wouldn’t feel like his existence was some kind of smear in history, that he was important to at least me.

[There are many things that I
Would like to say to you,
But I don’t know how.]

“By the way,” he continued, diverting his attention from the festive streets to his jacket as he went digging through his many pockets. At last, he found what he was looking for and tossed the object into my lap. “Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, Kwanza, whatever.”

Carefully, I picked up the flat, silver object and turned it over in my hands, letting my rough fingers feel every contour of its smooth surface. It was an old pocket watch that definitely looked like it could have been an antique. On the lid were the words ‘Tempus Fugit’ and a rather artistic angel’s wing that looked like it had been etched into the silver surface with a knife.

“My own addition,” Duo said, jabbing a finger at the wing.

I nodded, once again wondering what had compelled him to personalize the watch that way; I somehow had the feeling it wasn’t quite a nod to my Gundam. I flipped the watch open, entranced by the Roman numerals and elegant hands. A little window that stretched from the eleven to the one revealed a scrolling display of painted stars, clouds, suns and moons that ticked around with each passing second. I snapped it closed, liking the way it fit perfectly in my palm. “Where did you get this?” I asked.

“Luck of the draw,” he said with a shrug.

I may have been befuddled by some of Duo’s mannerisms, but I wasn’t a complete idiot. “You pick-pocketed someone, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged again, a clear indicator that he had.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I insisted, hoping I didn’t sound unappreciative. “I don’t have anything to give you in return.”

“Eh, it’s the season of giving, man, so it’s okay,” he said, waving his hand nonchalantly back and forth. “Besides, there’s not a lot I really want anyway.” He turned and winked at me, the lights on his face far more pronounced now that it was much darker. “Just think of it like you owe me one, and maybe one day you’ll figure out how to pay me back, okay?”

[Because maybe,
You’re gonna be the one that saves me.]

I nodded again and we both returned to our quiet observations of the darkened street. It was still early, and people walked up and down the street merrily, passing us with hardly a backward glance. Children crowded around the bakery opposite them, where the baker was handing out free gingerbread men and a group of carolers were standing under a nearby streetlight singing ‘The Carol of the Bells’. A nun holding a collection pail and ringing a bell received some loose change from a pair of passing OZ soldiers on the other side of the street.

I felt like we were on the outside of all those things, like the holidays weren’t meant for outlaw soldiers, and I felt surprisingly saddened by that. I clutched the watch tighter, glad that at least Duo cared to share Christmas with me, even if we had to celebrate it in our own way.

“Merry Christmas, Duo,” I said. It was the best and only thing I had to give him right then.

He turned and smiled at me.

[And after all,
You’re my Wonderwall.]

~ * ~ AC 120 ~ * ~

I hated Christmas.

Sighing, I shoved my hands deeper into the pockets of my jeans and trudged through the light flurry. It was late, almost midnight, and the golden light of the street lamps I passed on my way painted large, yellow trapezoids on the blank canvas of snow beneath my feet. In the depths of my pocket, molded to the palm of my hand, was the round shape of the pocket watch Duo had given me so many years ago. Remembering how Duo had thought of me on that war-torn Christmas made me smile, taking away some of the sting of a lonely holiday.

I was working for Preventers now. Wufei had given me the address for a Christmas party many of the agents had been invited to, but I had conveniently lost it. Depressing as a lonely Christmas was, I had thought it would have been much worse to go to a party and still be alone, despite being surrounded by many people. Still, I found myself wandering in the general direction of the party’s location, just for lack of anything else to do. Sitting by myself in my apartment would have left too much time for me to think. Thinking about my youth, my empty years of searching for meaning in life, thinking of Duo.

[Today was gonna be the day,
But they’ll never throw it back to you.]

Duo always stirred up much unwanted regret. The last time we’d had any real time together had been during the last war; I’d ruined that when I’d punched him and disappeared without ever having the chance to speak to him again for quite some time. I think I would have at least liked to apologize to him for that, even though I didn’t mean anything personal by it, and despite the fact I still saw him often, I never got around to it, unsure of exactly how to approach the subject. Then again, on the other hand, at least I had never said goodbye to him; it kind of kept the feeling that I would always see him again, that our friendship had never ended. There were so many things that he made me feel, I don’t think there would have been enough words for me to explain them to him. And even if there were, would he even understand? I’m not sure I even understood those things myself, so why would he?

I pulled the watch out of my pocket and ran my fingers over it for comfort. Having the watch with me made me feel a lot less lonely. Just running my fingers over the worn, scratched lines that made up the angel wing on the lid seemed to create the most distinct memories of Duo. I stared down at the simple object, wondering how a stolen gift could mean so much after so much time.

‘Tempus fugit’: time flies; the Latin words carved beneath the wing were more true to me now than ever. Even though the watch had long since stopped ticking, time had still plodded on, leaving me behind to brood on the past, things I could have, should have done. I began to wonder if Duo would always be the same as he had been when we were fifteen. What sort of effect had time had on him? I knew I hadn’t changed much, but had he, really? Did he still feel the same way about me? Sometimes, it was so hard to tell with someone like Duo; he was the sort who liked to hide in plain sight, which made him all the more hard to find. Like Tantalus, I always felt like he was so close, like my fingers were about to graze his cheek, and yet, I never seemed to be able to touch him.

I heard the faint, ancient whispers of Tchaikovski falling with the snow upon the pavement. Laughter and cheer filled my ears as I turned the corner, bringing me to a beyond festive street that was dripping with garland, lights and wreaths. There was no escaping it, I supposed, as I headed down the street with my head down, my eyes locked firmly on the watch in my hand.

Had I been paying attention to where I was going, I might have seen her before I walked straight into her. The woman’s indignant cry startled me more than the force of the impact, and I leapt back, my eyes wide with shock when I realized what I had done. “I’m sorry,” I muttered, already walking backwards in hasty retreat, my head back down again.

I didn’t expect for her to suddenly gasp, her hand over her mouth as she whispered, “Heero? Is that you?”

Upon hearing my name, I snapped up, my mouth hanging open slightly. Harsh puffs of cold air lingered over my parted lips as I stared at her, wide-eyed. Standing there was none other than Duo’s old friend, Hilde, dressed in a long, winter coat and a floppy, wool hat with a bit of holly sewn to it. She had a snowball packed in one hand. Beside her were Wufei and Sally, each wearing their Preventer jackets over casual clothes, also a little surprised to see me.

“Heero? Heero Yuy, is that you?” Hilde repeated, still staring at me like I was some kind of ghost. “Holy crap, it is you! I haven’t seen you in years!” I didn’t expect her to literally bounce over to me and fling my arms around me, like we’d been friends since childhood. “Where the hell have you been?”

I arched my eyebrow at Wufei and Sally, who were slowly starting to walk towards the black Preventers car parked nearby. I pulled my coat tighter around my body and returned my gaze to Hilde, who was still smiling at me patiently. “I’ve been traveling a lot, doing field work for Preventers,” I told her with a shrug, unsure why I was such a point of interest to them. It’s not like I was missing or anything; hell, Sally was even my employer!

“You’re a Preventer?” she asked incredulously, a hand on each hip as she tossed the snowball to herself in the other. “Then how come you didn’t come to our holiday party?”

“I lost the information about it,” I said flatly, jamming my hands in my pockets. I was gripping the pocket watch unnaturally tight.

“Aw, that’s too bad,” she said, a genuine expression of disappointment weighing down her features. “There were a bunch of people there who would have loved to see you.”

“I’m sure,” I deadpanned, really not in the mood for such a discussion. What did she care how I spent my crappy holidays?

She made a small noise in the back of her throat, still looking a little despondent. Then, suddenly, she got the most mischievous grin on her face as she whirled around on her heel, snow dancing around her boots as she spun. Wheeling back one arm, she flung the snowball up at the apartment building we were standing outside of. The wad of tightly-packed snow splatted against one of the windows as she shouted up, “Hey, thanks for a great shindig, man! I had tons of fun!”

Curious, I raised my eyes up to the window, which was the only one in the entire building that was rimmed with a string of white Christmas lights. A silhouette appeared in the dark window and slid the glass pane back. Leaning out of the window, a familiar voice shouted, “Hilde, you jerk! Quit throwing shit at me! You’re not the one who has to pay the rent here, buddy!”

Another startled gasp escaped my lips when I realized who was shouting down at us, punctuated when a long rope of braided hair tumbled over the windowsill and dangled outside, flapping gently in the night breeze. Frantically, my eyes flew back to where Hilde had been, but found nothing but a pair of messy footprints in her place. I saw her a bit further down the block, laughing merrily at me as she shouted, “Merry Christmas, Heero!” Then she took off running.

Slowly, I lifted my chin again, staring at the longhaired man leaning out of his window. “Duo,” I whispered, entranced by the surprised expression on his face, which was illuminated beautifully in the dim, yellowish glow of his Christmas lights.

“Heero?” he called down, sounding genuinely surprised to see me there. “What are you doing down there?”

Once again, I found myself unsure of how to respond, so I just flashed a shrugging sort of smile up at him and spread my arms out. It actually felt quite nice to do that in the lightly falling snow; kind of made me feel like I was a kid again--the normal kind.

[By now, you should’ve, somehow,
Realized what you’re not to do.]

“It’s just that--I mean, well....” he also didn’t seem to know what to say. Suddenly, he cut himself off and held his hands out, as if he was trying to hold me in one place, despite the distance between us. “Just wait there! Wait there!” Then he disappeared out of the window, his hair snapping behind him like a whip and jostling his Christmas lights as it sailed inside after him.

I stood there for hardly three seconds before I became impatient. Over the years, we remained extremely close, despite the fact our separate jobs kept us from spending as much time together as we would have liked. Still, I felt like we were standing on the edge of something big, and I wasn’t about to wait around for it to just pass me by, just like everything else that had happened in my life.

Squaring my shoulders, I trudged purposefully towards the apartment building, pulling the front door open and stepping into the warm lobby. It was a small space; the stair ascending right in front of me, wrapping around a caged elevator shaft in the middle. I glanced at the wall of mailboxes just to my right to check what Duo’s apartment number was and then started hiking up the stairs two at a time.

I was just passing the second floor when I heard a startling thump. I turned towards the elevator shaft just in time to see Duo giving me the most hilarious look of frustration as the car sunk down towards the ground floor. He had one boot on, the other clutched in his hand, and he wore neon green mittens and a loud, three-pronged ski cap that seemed like something a court jester would wear, complete with jangling bells and patches of bright colour.

The mechanism inside the elevator shaft stopped when the car reached the ground floor, and I heard the gates being wrenched open with a frantic screech. Then the pounding of boots on the hard floor echoed up and down the stairs, punctuated with, “I thought I told you not to move! Can’t you ever stick to mission parameters for just once in your damn life, Heero?”

I turned to face downwards, a hand resting gingerly on the handrail, patiently waiting for him to run back up the stairs after me. It wasn’t long before he came bounding into my line of sight, able to skip up the stairs three at a time with his long legs. “A-Always tryin’ to be difficult, a-ain’tcha, Heero?” he panted when he finally reached me, bending over and grabbing the railing with a jangle from his ridiculous hat, which tumbled off his head when he bowed it downwards. His boots were just crammed on his feet, the laces undone and the tongues hanging lopsided over the toes, and his mittens were now poking out of one of his enormous jacket pockets

“It’s what I was trained to do, wasn’t it?” I said smugly, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Word,” he said with a grin, snatching up his hat and advancing towards me a few steps. “So,” he went on, flinging an arm around my waist as he guided me back up the stairs, “what brings you knocking on my door at midnight on Christmas Eve?”

Feeling a bit of our traditional banter coming on, I put an arm around his shoulders and said with a grin, “Last minute rush delivery on forgotten gifts.”

He got the strangest look on his face when he heard that, like he was partly surprised and partly nostalgic. He was quick to let go of me and pull out of my embrace, jogging up to the top of the flight of stairs we were on, where there was a half-open door. “Well, come on, then! It’s never to late to start Christmas!” he said with a grin I knew was covering something up; I didn’t call myself his best friend for nothing, and it was plain as day to me when he was trying to avoid something with just a simple quirk of his lips.

Shedding his outdoor gear, Duo went to close the window he’d left open while I looked around. I had never been to Duo’s apartment, though I’d always generally known where he lived. My job had me on the go so much, I almost didn’t even consider any particular place my permanent home. Though it was small and quite simple, Duo had managed to do well for himself. I felt very comfortable there, like it was my own. The place was pretty messy, still littered with the empty glasses and bottles of the party; it seemed that Hilde, Wufei and Sally had been the last guests to leave. ‘Have Yourself A Merry, Little Christmas’ was playing on the stereo set up in the corner.

Honestly, now that I knew the party Wufei had been talking about was this one, I was really glad I hadn’t gone. I really don’t like talking to more than one person at a time, and knowing Duo, he probably would have dragged me into one too many conversations. I was willing to bet he would have somehow coaxed me into sharing something in front of people I really rather wouldn’t have. I think that Duo sometimes forgot that I didn’t have the same talent he did for talking endlessly, yet sharing nothing; whenever I spoke, I usually ended up making myself terribly vulnerable, which I liked to be very selective about exposing. Usually, I remedied this by just not saying anything, but that often was not an option when Duo Maxwell was involved.

[I don’t believe that anybody
Feels the way I do
About you, now.]

“Thirsty? I was going to make tea or something,” he said suddenly, his voice startling me out of my thoughts. I really wonder if I talk to myself too much; then again, Duo had always had a knack for sneaking up on people when they least expected it.

“That’s okay,” I said with a slight shake of my head, watching him slip like a shadow into the kitchen area, and I walked over to the window to wait. Strangely, I found myself more distracted by his reflection in the glass than anything that was going on outside.

Despite that, he still managed to creep up on me when he was finished setting the kettle of water on the stove. I nearly jumped out of my skin and decked him when I felt his hands slide over my tense shoulders, fingers hooking beneath the collar of my jacket as he slid it off. I could hear his breath in my ear, like his lips were hovering right beside it. “Come on and stay awhile,” he murmured, pulling the coat off my arms. “I’ve always wanted to spend the holidays with you, but you’re never around.”

“Sorry. I guess I’ve just never had time to stop for Christmas, really,” I whispered softly, not sure what I was apologizing for. It wasn’t like it was my fault or anything; it’s just that, unlike a lot of the people I worked with, I didn’t treat this time of year any different from the rest of it, that’s all.

“Aw, quit being such a Scrooge, you party-skipper,” he laughed, resting his chin on my shoulder. Our faces were dimly traced in the window’s glass; I felt my heart do a series of strange aerobatics when I noticed how much we looked like a pair of lovers. Still, I made no move to push him away, afraid of ruining the comfortable moment.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, suddenly feeling bad that I hadn’t shown up to the party. For a fleeting moment, I had the thought that I had let down his entire evening by not coming, and this was my last chance to redeem myself in his eyes. I was such a rotten friend at times, it hurt.

“Meh, no need to be sorry,” he said with a little shrug, still leaning on my shoulder. “I kinda figured you wouldn’t show. I know you don’t really dig the party scene.” He tossed my coat onto the sofa behind us as he wrapped his arms around my waist. “Besides, I kinda liked hogging you all to myself after the fact.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Less hiding.”

He made a small noise of agreement in the back of his throat, which rumbled in his chest and tingled against my back. I could feel the warm rolls of his breath against my neck, and I couldn’t help but feeling like he was trying to pull me into himself.

“So why are you here on this snowy Christmas Eve?” he asked after a few moments of silence. “I don’t buy that you were aimlessly wandering around in the middle of the night because, frankly, you don’t do ‘aimless’.”

I snorted. “Do I need an excuse to be with you?”

“Well, no, I guess not,” he agreed. I didn’t need to look at his reflection to know that he was smiling. I could tell exactly what sort of expression was on his face just by the tone in his voice. He paused for a moment, his eyes flicking up to glance at our reflection. “But... you seem awfully distracted,” he went on. “Is there something that you needed?” It was suddenly very obvious that there was something he wanted, though I had no idea what that could possibly be.

You, was my first thought, my eyes wide when I finally comprehended the words. I wonder if the surprise on my face at this realization was as obvious to him as it was to me. I turned my chin slightly, not expecting to bump noses with him when I did so. He was so close, he looked like he only had one, giant, violet eye, and I was practically inhaling his every breath. The world seemed to creak to a halt as he tilted his head a tiny bit more, like he intended to lean in closer to me....

[And all the roads that lead to you are winding.]

The sound of liquid simmering on the stove suddenly brought the moment to a hissing stop. Duo’s arms melted from my waist and my lips were no longer warmed by his breathing. Slightly mystified, I turned around and tracked the longhaired man with my eyes as he moved into the kitchen and turned off the stove. He poured the steaming pan of hot milk into a mug that was sitting nearby and stirred it around. I was fascinated by his movements, which seemed to me, sleek and elegant, like those of a panther.

Duo soon returned to the main living area of his apartment, sipping on his steaming mug. Stealthily, I watched the bob of his throat as he drank, absolutely enamoured by the rim of hot cocoa that lined his upper lip and the dot of whipped cream that clung to the tip of his nose. He was quick to notice my subversive glances, however, and stared at me with a quirked eyebrow as he demanded incredulously, “Wha~at?”

“Nothing,” I said with a tiny smile, casting my eyes downward. I felt that vulnerable sensation coming on, something I don’t think I’ve ever experienced around Duo when I was alone with him. Then again, there were a lot of things going through my mind that night that I had never felt before.

He scrubbed at the whipped cream on his nose, licking it off the back of his hand as he neared me, holding his mug out to me. “Want a sip?” he asked.

I wondered if he genuinely thought this was what I had been staring at him for, but I took the cup out of his hands to let him think so, just in case he had. It was a funny mug, very typical of Duo’s weird sense of humour; a comical penguin with a huge beak and wrapped in an oversized jacket, earmuffs and scarf held a steamy mug of its own, standing above the bold word ‘Antifreeze’. The hot chocolate was delicious, particularly with the dab of cool whipped cream floating on top, and I told him so when I returned his mug.

“Thanks,” he said with a strange expression in his eyes. He purposely turned the mug around in his hands and, closing his eyes, took another long sip, noticeably putting his lips on the very place I had put mine when I drank. “Delicious,” I heard him murmur as he finished, his eyelids fluttering open. “It always tastes better when you use warm milk.”

I simply nodded, not wanting to waste any words. With Duo, a person to whom words meant everything, I was particularly averse to casually throwing them around meaninglessly. I watched him silently moved towards the window, still sipping his hot cocoa. I settled on the large, overstuffed sofa sitting opposite the television, feeling like I was drowning in the fat pillows surrounding my slim body. A rather tacky, fake Christmas tree stood beside the TV set, its strings of coloured lights blinking merrily and sparkling with a lot of silver tinsel. A golden star sat crookedly atop it, and a few presents were scattered beneath its plastic branches. “You know,” I said, voicing my thoughts aloud without even realizing that I was doing so, “I never did get you something in return for that pocket watch you gave me.”

Duo turned around, amusement written across his features. “You still have that old piece of crap?” he snorted, placing a hand on one hip. “Jeez, ‘Ro, it was just a random, stolen thing I gave you during the war so we could at least pretend we had a Christmas! It’s not like it, you know, meant anything.”

That strange look was plastered on his face again, and I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to figure out what it meant. I let out a frustrated huff of air; “It meant something to me,” I insisted as I dug through the pockets of my coat in search of the watch. “Maybe you didn’t think much of it, but it was a gift--a gift from you--and that’s all that’s really important!” I finally retrieved the silver timepiece and popped the lid open, even though it didn’t work anymore. “It’s not the object, but the intent!”

He hummed a little as he made his way over to the sofa and sat down next to me, setting his now-empty mug on the table beside it. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table in front of us and slouched into the cushions, spreading his arms out across the back of the sofa as he stared up at the ceiling. Overhead, a clump of greenish-white holiday branches dangled with a large, golden bell from a thick, red ribbon that was tied to the lighting fixture; his purple eyes tracked the decoration’s lazy spin.

“Still,” I went on, my voice softer, “I would like to give you something you really want.”

[And all the lights that light the way are blinding.]

He rolled his head towards me, scrutinizing me with that damned ambiguous gaze of his. For someone as loud as Duo, it was amazing how subtle he could be at times; he had been flashing that expression at me almost all night, and still, I couldn’t figure out what he meant by it, even though I usually considered myself pretty good at reading Duo’s body language.

“Come on, Duo. There has to be something that you want,” I said, getting a little frustrated. “When you gave me this watch,” I went on, flipping the watch’s lid closed, “you said I would have to return the favour one day. I kind of feel like this is the perfect chance to do so. You know, start fresh... something new.”

If anything, that mysterious look of his only intensified. He twisted his body around, folding both arms together on the back of the couch and nestling his chin atop his forearms. “Something... new?” he queried, speaking even more softly than me.

“For our friendship,” I said with a shrug as I turned to face him, throwing one arm over the back of the couch and tucking a leg beneath my body. A thoughtful pause ensued, and then I clarified, “You’re the closest companion I’ve ever had, but I feel like drifted apart since the end of the war and I... well, was hoping we could amend that.” I had no idea why I felt so nervous admitting this to him; it wasn’t like it was some deep confession of my heart, but merely a statement of fact. Maybe I had only just realized how dear his friendship was to me, and I was fearful that one verbal misstep would throw that forever. (Yes, I know I’m a very ‘worst-case-scenario’ person, but it was a paranoid habit that had become ingrained into me during the war and was hard to shake, even five years later.)

“You want to be... closer to me?” he asked, sliding his arms forward a bit, which brought his nose mere inches from mine.

“Yeah,” I whispered, intrigued by the way all the holiday lights in his apartment reflected like glowing speckles in his irises.

Still closer, he went on in a low, almost sultry murmur, “How much closer, Heero?”

[There are many things that I....]

A strange picture suddenly started playing in my head. My imagination suddenly finished the conversation for me with my mind’s eye, flashes of Duo practically crawling on top of me for a kiss. Startled as I was by the voracious appearance of such a suggestion, I found I really wasn’t that surprised by it. Even when I found my mind wandering with that image, conjuring up memories of Duo in various states of undress and transmitting them into my imaginary kiss sequence, I didn’t really find myself that put off by the notion at all.

It was then that I realized that I wanted to know Duo in ways I had never even thought of before then, that he was the only person I cared to know intimately and the only person I cared to share myself with in return. I somehow found myself trying to think of a way to give my everything to him, hoping that it was a gift he would be willing to accept.

I suppose I let that wish get to me more than I realized, because Duo was soon shaking my shoulder, saying, “Heero, wow. Chillax a little, there, man! You look like your brain is about to explode.”

“I think it might be,” I moaned, pressing a frustrated hand to my forehead. No matter what plans my mind came up with, both crazy and logical, I kept being held back by the simple worry that I would say something that would destroy the friendship we already had. And quite frankly, for all the Duo-kisses in the world, that was something I really was afraid to risk.

“Whoa, dude, it’s okay,” he said, reaching out and placing his other hand on my shoulder, calming me with massaging strokes across my tense muscles. “Just calm down a little. Breathe, yeah... and tell me what’s eating you, okay?”

Though his request was well-meaning and made in innocence, it just served to rekindle all that frustration. I shrugged off his hands and groaned, burying my nose into the plump cushions of the couch. After a few moments, I dared to peek up at him again, finding that he was watching me with extreme curiosity.

“Look, ‘Ro, I understand if you don’t wanna tell me what’s on your mind,” he said, scooting close enough to lean his forehead against mine. “But I do think it helps to get stuff that’s bugging you out there... or at least to know that there’s someone who cares enough to listen to whatever might be plaguing your mind.” His eyes flicked away for a moment, and then I felt his hand resting on my cheek. “I’ll be that friend, okay, Heero?”

I paused long enough to feel the air rush out of my lungs and to listen as the sound of my own, thudding heart became the loudest noise in the entire universe. I closed my eyes halfway, staring at his lips from beneath my thick eyelashes. “There are many things that I....”

[...Would like to say to you,
But I don’t know how.]

His hand covered one of mine, and the warmth radiating off of his palm was enough to warm my entire body. Especially my cheeks, for some reason. “You don’t always have to know what to say, or even how to say it,” Duo said, his voice carrying a certain, velvet quality I don’t think I’ve ever heard before. “It’s just the meaning that really matters, you know?”

Nodding, I thought about how while that was all very well and good, the advice still didn’t help me figure out how to communicate any better with Duo. This was also something I wasn’t quite used to; Duo and I were usually very comfortable with each other, able to talk like we could with no one else. And yet, here I was struggling for the words to describe things I couldn’t even name. “I can’t explain what I....” I shook my head, trailing off and then trying again. “I want to show you the things I feel.” Truly, there was no other way to express these things swirling around my palpitating heart, knowing they were too much for mere words to articulate.

Duo’s eyelids drooped low again, making his eyes seem to shine with a kind of molten quality. That same, hauntingly velvet tone draped itself around Duo’s words when he spoke. “Then show me,” he whispered. I felt his other hand lay itself on top of my thigh.

I didn’t know what to do, or even what to say to that. With the way we had leaned in very close to each other, I was reminded of the strange moment, earlier, when it seemed like we had been about to kiss. That thought, in turn, sparked those images of kissing Duo in my head again, and suddenly, before I realized it, I was actually closing the tiny space between our lips, kissing him just like in my little, conjured-up fantasy. The most kissing I had ever done was the simple lips-on-the-cheek for greeting my female friends (who seemed to like that kind of thing), but never anything quite like this. And even though it wasn’t much more than our mouths pressing together, as if we had become frosted to each other that way, I still felt like it was the most intimate thing I’d ever done with anyone.

He nuzzled me a bit harder with his mouth, pushing his tongue against my teeth with enough force to pry my lips further apart and nudge my head back a little. I leaned back a bit more, curling my back against the arm of the sofa as I gently tugged him down with me by the wrists. The frenzy of motion seemed to gravitate at an extremely slow pace, amplifying the strangest details in my memory. Vaguely, I remember how I pulled him flush on top of me, wrapping one arm around his waist to keep him there, but more so, I recall the way his sweater felt against my palm, the sweet taste of chocolate that was still on his breath; I remember the exact carol that was playing on the radio, the one about being home for Christmas.

After a few moments shared in that manner, we pulled away from each other, though we still hovered close. My eyes fluttered open for a brief second to make sure he wasn’t absolutely revolted by my impulsiveness, and upon seeing that he seemed quite drunk on our current state, I allowed my eyelids to drip closed once more.

“Is that what you’ve been wanting to tell me?” he whispered, his voice much nearer than I thought it was, though the proximity didn’t make me jump as it normally would have. His arms were folded on my chest and his profile was molded against my neck.

“Mm,” I hummed simply, knowing he would understand what the sound meant. (If I was an expert on his body language, than he was an expert on the various intonations of my voice, even when I wasn’t really saying anything at all.)

“For how long?” I could tell he thought he was treading on tender soil. Really, it made no sense why he would be concerned about such a question; it’s not like it would have made much of a difference if I’d figured out what I wanted to feel for him today, tomorrow, yesterday or five years ago; all I cared about was this moment, right now. In a world where things often seemed so much bigger than any one person, the best anyone could do was catch the warmth of each spark of a moment before life dimmed and became cold.

“Long enough,” I decided with a lazy roll of my head, pressing it into the plump pillow behind it.

“Are you sure? You didn’t just, you know, randomly do that because it was some fleeting impulse, did you? Or did someone put you up to it?” he wondered, propping himself up. I cracked one bold, blue eye open to peer up at him from behind my thick, messy bangs. He looked positively frightened; I really hoped it had nothing to do with something I had done; I hated seeing him worked up.

Both of my eyes snapped open at this, and I sat up very suddenly, my unexpected movement knocking him off my chest and to the floor. Wide-eyed and confused, I stared at him as he scrambled back up onto the sofa, confining himself to the opposite end and very noticeably away from me. “What are you talking about?” I demanded softly, wanting to know what this meant.

“I mean,” he said with a long, hard swallow, “it’s not like Hilde or someone who knew that I, well... it’s not like anyone told you to do that, right? I mean, you wanted to, you know, kiss me, didn’t you?” He wasn’t looking at me, busy staring at his hands as he twisted them around each other; I had never noticed what gorgeous hands he had before, but truly, they were, like spindly twists of spider’s silk.

He was talking in circles and it was rather hard to follow. I held up a hand, signaling for him to stop. “You know I never do anything unless I want to,” I told him, reminding him of my need to follow my own heart and instincts when it came to living.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean that it--”

“That it what?” I cut him off, leaning forward and falling on all fours. I crawled down to his end of the sofa and settled down on top of my calves, bending forward and breathing softly against the tip of his nose. I had never noticed how elfish he looked, with his slightly pointed ears and pert, slightly upturned nose, the light, almost unnoticeable dusting of freckles across his cheeks. His eyelashes were rather long and thick, and had a very distinct curl to them.

His shoulders were heaving slightly, like he was sucking in large amounts of air. “That it... meant something,” he whispered.

“Don’t all gifts,” I whispered back, leaning in closer again, intending to breathe him in, “mean something?”

“Yeah,” came the ragged answer as he tilted his head a little, his wide, pink lips parted slightly as his eyes sank closed once more.

I kissed him again, and this time, I held him tightly in my arms, hoping he understood my intention to never let him go. If there had ever been one person who was always there for me, always understood me, even when I was wrong, it wad Duo Maxwell. I had grown up alone, feeling like no one could comprehend what it was like to abandoned in the streets like trash. But Duo did; for someone who seemed so radically different from me, he was really quite similar.

[‘Cause maybe,
You’re gonna be the one that saves me.]

When we parted this time, he was smiling at me, just like he had done so many years ago on Christmas when he’d given me that watch. “Then how’d you know?” he asked softly, his question almost drowned out by the radio.

“Luck of the draw,” I retorted wryly, settling down on the couch right beside him, our thighs pressed up tightly together. I leaned back, draping my head over the plush back of the sofa, staring at the bell swirling gently above us; I realized that it was mistletoe that was tied to the bell’s curved top. “What would have happened if I’d never met you?” I asked hypothetically as I smiled at the holiday decoration. “I never thought I could battle my loneliness until I came across someone who was just as lonely and just as scared.”

I could feel his eyes fixated on the corner of my jaw and the pulse of my throat. Just that knowledge tied another knot in the pit of my stomach; his attention made me feel beautiful and wanted, which was something I was quite unused to. Sometimes, it seemed like my image of myself was constructed of a collage of the various impressions of other people: fearless soldier, romantic hero, kindred wanderer, honourable warrior. Though all those things were, in a small sense, true, I didn’t feel like any of them truly represented me. But then that beautiful sensation churning in my gut reminded me of the way Duo saw me: as just, well, me; he thought I was perfect just the way I was, and he had never asked of me anything less, and nothing more. I didn’t have to be someone else’s image, because he saw me for what I was. I don’t think I could have asked for anything more precious than his gift of acceptance. He took the good with the bad, my strengths with my weaknesses, my quirks with my charms, and never once, did he ever tell me that I wasn’t who he wanted me to be, that I had to change to please him.

“I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a real long time, you know,” Duo said casually, also leaning deeply into the soft back of the couch. His large, violet eyes flicked in my direction, as if checking for a sign to continue. “I’ve never allowed anyone to get as close to me as you have. Always pulling a fast one, you are, and never quite doing what anyone expects you to. You’re almost as good as me! Hell, even better!,” he said, speaking in a kind of dreamily tone, almost as if he wasn’t even aware of what he was saying. “I mean,” he went on, rolling his head to the side so his ear was flat against the top of the couch, “to this day, you’re the only one who’s ever gone out of his way to save my scrawny ass, the only one who ever gave a crap if I lived or died, the only one who ever really listened to me. For me, there’s no one else who could ever replace you, Heero Yuy.”

By this point, I had also turned my head to face him, mirroring his position almost exactly. Despite the weight of the conversation, the fact that we could lounge on his sofa like we were watching football just attested to how comfortable we were with each other. I might have countered his little speech with a similar one of my own, but I felt that there was nothing that needed to be said that couldn’t be simply understood by the nature of our relationship. Unlike many people, Duo didn’t need to constantly hear those sorts of things from me; I think it was just because he already knew.

And, since I wasn’t going to say anything, Duo just went on--not that I minded listening to his voice. “I sure would like to hope that maybe I’ve done the same for you, Heero, but I somehow think that might be pushing it a little,” he went on, despite the adamant glare of protest I shot at him for the comment. Brushing off my stare, he reached over and started gently petting one of the long, spiked clumps of hair that licked the top of my ear. “I mean, you’re always there for me, and I’m pretty sure I’m always there for you, even if it doesn’t always seem that way and, well, I don’t quite think there’s anyone else in the world exactly like that....”

“There isn’t,” I said resolutely, reaching up to place my hand on top of his, sandwiching it between the side of my head and my palm. A smile graced my lips as I added, “And I’m glad for that. You’re unique, unlike anyone else I know. There’s no one who could ever be even remotely like you, Duo.”

“Nor quite like you,” he replied with a grin. Ah, that classic Duo Maxwell grin; there was no other quite like it, just like him. His lips spread out wide, pulled back in a sly, bewitching grin that promised both mischief and magic.

One of the fingers of his other hand curled beneath my chin, guiding it closer to his mouth again. “Our lives have been... extraordinary, blessed and cursed and won. It’s like the world has been etched upon your heart, but still, so hard to understand,” he murmured as our breaths intermingled and became one. “And yet, I understand... you....”

I gave my mouth to him, allowed his hands to keep my head pinioned against the couch as he kissed me again. I liked the way our lips moved against each other, tasting and exploring, like we were learning about each other all over again.

And in my pocket, I felt the delicate gears of my pocket watch slowly begin to crank again, twisting for the first time in years and turning the hands of a new beginning.

[And after all,
You’re my Wonderwall.]

~ * ~ Owari ~ * ~