The Loneliest Sound
The loneliest sound is when Trowa is away and Hiiro is working late on something downstairs and she is alone in their bed. Faintly, she can hear the soft click-click of the keys under his fingers. Or perhaps it is her imagination.
There is also the soft sound of herself moving under the sheets and blankets, like wind gusts through the branches of a tree in winter. Not enough to cause the mattress to squeak, but enough of a reminder.
Faintly, the tiger yawns.
Her feet on the carpet are colder, nightgown falling around her ankles. She thinks perhaps she will forgo the slippers, they would only get in the way.
The trouble is, what to do with her newfound wakefulness, and how to get downstairs without being seen? Hiiro would only tell her to go back to bed, he'd be up soon. But the bedroom is empty and too-quiet, there is nothing for her rest there.
Perhaps it would not be so bad, to be seen.
Drifting out into the hallway stretching from the bedroom door to the actual great hall, she ponders. It is possible that Hiiro wouldn't notice anyway, if she were quiet. Simply a person in his peripheral vision, known and acknowledged and not thought much of being awake, in the moment. On the balcony, she can see him-- his head is low over the keyboard, eyes intense and reflecting the screen.
He won't be coming to bed for hours. As Duo would say, he is 'in the zone'.
She walks at a normal pace, but toe to heel to quiet her steps. Ground level, now. The living room or foyer, whichever name suits it better. Perhaps she should have turned off the alarm, Hiiro needs his sleep.
The latch to the pool room's door is heavy under her palm.
It gives with a slight click, and closes with one more solid. If he hadn't taken note of that evidence of her passage, he wasn't going to.
The stone is cold under her feet, but colder still is the gravel when she passes from the hallway into the small courtyard, pausing to take in the moonlight at the edge of a fountain. Would that she could remain there, but the autumn is beginning to fade and the nights are chilling.
Inside, there is a smell of salt and marble. She passes the reclining wooden chairs, the towels, the fish and water. There is a slim rope and wood ladder that is the window to her ultimate goal, leading her to a platform with ladies of myth and a diving board.
It also has a futon with soft blankets, and with the lights low, one can see through the glass ceiling to the stars and moon and clouds above. Poolwater tinkles with the filtration system, the plants rustle softly. It is no longer lonely.
Dawn is just beginning to break when she wakes a bit to find her husband climbing into the futon with her, wrapping arms around her shoulders and falling exhausted into sleep.
His breathing is a soothing balm, and she wonders briefly if Trowa can hear soft water and rustling plants as well. She wonders if he knows the value of their sounds.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing.
There is also the soft sound of herself moving under the sheets and blankets, like wind gusts through the branches of a tree in winter. Not enough to cause the mattress to squeak, but enough of a reminder.
Faintly, the tiger yawns.
Her feet on the carpet are colder, nightgown falling around her ankles. She thinks perhaps she will forgo the slippers, they would only get in the way.
The trouble is, what to do with her newfound wakefulness, and how to get downstairs without being seen? Hiiro would only tell her to go back to bed, he'd be up soon. But the bedroom is empty and too-quiet, there is nothing for her rest there.
Perhaps it would not be so bad, to be seen.
Drifting out into the hallway stretching from the bedroom door to the actual great hall, she ponders. It is possible that Hiiro wouldn't notice anyway, if she were quiet. Simply a person in his peripheral vision, known and acknowledged and not thought much of being awake, in the moment. On the balcony, she can see him-- his head is low over the keyboard, eyes intense and reflecting the screen.
He won't be coming to bed for hours. As Duo would say, he is 'in the zone'.
She walks at a normal pace, but toe to heel to quiet her steps. Ground level, now. The living room or foyer, whichever name suits it better. Perhaps she should have turned off the alarm, Hiiro needs his sleep.
The latch to the pool room's door is heavy under her palm.
It gives with a slight click, and closes with one more solid. If he hadn't taken note of that evidence of her passage, he wasn't going to.
The stone is cold under her feet, but colder still is the gravel when she passes from the hallway into the small courtyard, pausing to take in the moonlight at the edge of a fountain. Would that she could remain there, but the autumn is beginning to fade and the nights are chilling.
Inside, there is a smell of salt and marble. She passes the reclining wooden chairs, the towels, the fish and water. There is a slim rope and wood ladder that is the window to her ultimate goal, leading her to a platform with ladies of myth and a diving board.
It also has a futon with soft blankets, and with the lights low, one can see through the glass ceiling to the stars and moon and clouds above. Poolwater tinkles with the filtration system, the plants rustle softly. It is no longer lonely.
Dawn is just beginning to break when she wakes a bit to find her husband climbing into the futon with her, wrapping arms around her shoulders and falling exhausted into sleep.
His breathing is a soothing balm, and she wonders briefly if Trowa can hear soft water and rustling plants as well. She wonders if he knows the value of their sounds.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing.