[Ficlet] Leaving
Dec. 14th, 2007 08:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
misanagiLeaving
Rating: PG
Pairing: 3x4
Warnings: Angst.
Summary: Leaving hadn't been his idea.
Notes: This is a weird fic. Um, I'm not sure if it'll even make sense but I hope it does.
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wildchildcait. Merry Christmas!
---
Leaving hadn't been his idea. It was the desert and it's drowning heat what had driven him away, back to the city, to the circus, to what felt natural to him. He would have stayed if there was a reason to stay but Quatre had left already so there was nothing worth staying.
The circus didn't seem like home anymore. Cathy tried to cheer him up, pushed him to the lion cages where he spent most of his days and nights but everything was blurry at best, things didn't seem real anymore.
He found himself often thinking about the desert, about the sand burning under his bare feet, the comfort the shade gave and the cool corridors that seemed to vibrate in time with the desert itself.
He had hated it. Hated each moment but the nights when sweaty and tired Quatre would curl beside him and they fucked or slept or talked or fought…When Quatre was there the desert was inconsequent.
It took them leaving for Trowa to realize that that wasn't exactly true. In reality, Quatre was the desert. He was the burning heat, the comforting shade, the merciless care and damage, the constant sand, and maybe that was why Trowa sat in the lion cages and missed the desert he had thought he hated so much.
Sometimes he fantasized about going back but there was no going back now, not really, not to the desert that had captured Trowa's heart for good or bad.
It hadn't been his idea to leave but he had done it anyway and it hurt, maybe even more than when Quatre had left. It hurt because even if Quatre wasn't there Trowa leaving had been a betrayal. That was what he wouldn't let himself face, that was why he blamed the desert while in the end he just couldn't face himself.
Maybe one day the desert would come back. Maybe Quatre would forgive him for leaving.
"Please," he whispered, hoping that the wind would carry his voice back to the desert, back to Quatre and his lonely bed. "Please… wake up."
Rating: PG
Pairing: 3x4
Warnings: Angst.
Summary: Leaving hadn't been his idea.
Notes: This is a weird fic. Um, I'm not sure if it'll even make sense but I hope it does.
For
wildchildcait. Merry Christmas!---
Leaving hadn't been his idea. It was the desert and it's drowning heat what had driven him away, back to the city, to the circus, to what felt natural to him. He would have stayed if there was a reason to stay but Quatre had left already so there was nothing worth staying.
The circus didn't seem like home anymore. Cathy tried to cheer him up, pushed him to the lion cages where he spent most of his days and nights but everything was blurry at best, things didn't seem real anymore.
He found himself often thinking about the desert, about the sand burning under his bare feet, the comfort the shade gave and the cool corridors that seemed to vibrate in time with the desert itself.
He had hated it. Hated each moment but the nights when sweaty and tired Quatre would curl beside him and they fucked or slept or talked or fought…When Quatre was there the desert was inconsequent.
It took them leaving for Trowa to realize that that wasn't exactly true. In reality, Quatre was the desert. He was the burning heat, the comforting shade, the merciless care and damage, the constant sand, and maybe that was why Trowa sat in the lion cages and missed the desert he had thought he hated so much.
Sometimes he fantasized about going back but there was no going back now, not really, not to the desert that had captured Trowa's heart for good or bad.
It hadn't been his idea to leave but he had done it anyway and it hurt, maybe even more than when Quatre had left. It hurt because even if Quatre wasn't there Trowa leaving had been a betrayal. That was what he wouldn't let himself face, that was why he blamed the desert while in the end he just couldn't face himself.
Maybe one day the desert would come back. Maybe Quatre would forgive him for leaving.
"Please," he whispered, hoping that the wind would carry his voice back to the desert, back to Quatre and his lonely bed. "Please… wake up."
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no subject
Date: 2007-12-15 03:43 am (UTC)Makes sense to me ;-)
Thank you Mis, and happy Yule to you too.
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Date: 2007-12-15 06:43 am (UTC)no subject
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