[Fic] Contrast and Shadows
Title: Contrast and Shadows
Author: lil_1337
Pairing/Characters: 3x4
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 767
Warnings/Kinks: Angst with resolution
Summary: For the gw500 prompt discovery.
Disclaimer: Still not mine; still not making money from their various adventures. *shakes fist*
The sky was a mass of storm clouds, matching the internal tension that Trowa could feel building closer and closer to the breaking point. It had been a day of misses; miscommunications, misunderstandings and mistakes to name a few. The whole mess had culminated in a fight with Quatre over something so trivial and stupid Trowa couldn’t even remember what it was. Not knowing what else to do Trowa had walked out of the room and gone to stand on the back porch. There was so much he needed to say, but the words stuck in his throat even as they burned themselves into the neurons of his brain.
Fear, anger, hurt, remorse, and undiluted pain along with others he couldn’t put a name to wove a net around his heart squeezing it tightly enough to leave impressions in his flesh. The desire to shut down completely and not feel anything battled with an aching need to find Quatre and hide in his arms. It had been so much simpler when Trowa was separated himself from his emotions. Living a life ruled completely by logic had protected him from this kind of confusion. He had always known what to do then.
Going back wasn’t what he wanted, not really, not if he was honest with himself. Even feeling as raw and vulnerable as he was now the thought of being that closed off was terrifying. To never feel love or loved again was the stuff his nightmares were made of. It would mean slowly suffocating the best part of the man he had become. Some days it was just so much to deal with and Trowa wondered if he had the strength to learn how to cope with it all. That didn’t mean he was going to stop trying any time soon, he just needed a break once in a while.
He shivered at the emotional storm raging in his head as much as the quickly falling temperature and ran his hands up and down his arms in an attempt to warm his chilled body and soul. The clouds were lower now and much denser then when he had pulled his car into the garage mirroring the growing darkness in his heart and head. The storm was closer now and anyone in its path was going to be battered by the end. Trowa hoped that he and the house were strong enough to with stand it.
From behind, Trowa felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist right before he was pulled tightly against a firm chest. Without conscious thought or decision he turned and wrapped his arms around Quatre’s neck. Unable to face him Trowa his face against the soft cotton of an expensive dress shirt and inhaled the scent that could only be described as Quatre.
“I’m sorry.” The words were soft, almost unheard, but they elicited a gentle carding of fingers through Trowa’s hair followed by a light kiss to the temple.
“I know. So am I.” The hand shifted and slid down to Trowa’s neck half massaging and half caressing the skin there. “I hate it when we fight.” The pain in Quatre’s voice matched the diamond splinter ache in Trowa’s gut and made it tighten in response. Experiencing his own hurt was bad, but hearing Quatre’s and knowing he caused it made Trowa feel physically ill.
“I do too.” Trowa raised his head, forcing himself to look at Quatre memorizing his face and drowning in the love in his eyes. It washed over Trowa rinsing away the guilt and remorse until all that was left was understanding and acceptance. He smiled, a weak imitation of what he usually showed Quatre, but genuine none the less. “But I love it when we make up.”
With a soft chuckle Quatre pulled away then offered Trowa his hand. “I think we should do that now.”
Above them lightning flashed, illuminating the world for the space of a second, and was followed by the low rumble of thunder. A gentle patter on the roof signaled that the rain had arrived as well, but it was the kind that nourished growth instead of washing away everything in its path. The constricting band in Trowa’s chest eased and he drew a full breath as relief and the first stirrings of passion flooded his body. Without hesitation he took Quatre’s hand holding it firmly and carefully like the precious thing it was. In that moment, savoring the anticipation of what was to come, he realized like light needed darkness happiness required pain to for it be fully appreciated.
Author: lil_1337
Pairing/Characters: 3x4
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 767
Warnings/Kinks: Angst with resolution
Summary: For the gw500 prompt discovery.
Disclaimer: Still not mine; still not making money from their various adventures. *shakes fist*
The sky was a mass of storm clouds, matching the internal tension that Trowa could feel building closer and closer to the breaking point. It had been a day of misses; miscommunications, misunderstandings and mistakes to name a few. The whole mess had culminated in a fight with Quatre over something so trivial and stupid Trowa couldn’t even remember what it was. Not knowing what else to do Trowa had walked out of the room and gone to stand on the back porch. There was so much he needed to say, but the words stuck in his throat even as they burned themselves into the neurons of his brain.
Fear, anger, hurt, remorse, and undiluted pain along with others he couldn’t put a name to wove a net around his heart squeezing it tightly enough to leave impressions in his flesh. The desire to shut down completely and not feel anything battled with an aching need to find Quatre and hide in his arms. It had been so much simpler when Trowa was separated himself from his emotions. Living a life ruled completely by logic had protected him from this kind of confusion. He had always known what to do then.
Going back wasn’t what he wanted, not really, not if he was honest with himself. Even feeling as raw and vulnerable as he was now the thought of being that closed off was terrifying. To never feel love or loved again was the stuff his nightmares were made of. It would mean slowly suffocating the best part of the man he had become. Some days it was just so much to deal with and Trowa wondered if he had the strength to learn how to cope with it all. That didn’t mean he was going to stop trying any time soon, he just needed a break once in a while.
He shivered at the emotional storm raging in his head as much as the quickly falling temperature and ran his hands up and down his arms in an attempt to warm his chilled body and soul. The clouds were lower now and much denser then when he had pulled his car into the garage mirroring the growing darkness in his heart and head. The storm was closer now and anyone in its path was going to be battered by the end. Trowa hoped that he and the house were strong enough to with stand it.
From behind, Trowa felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist right before he was pulled tightly against a firm chest. Without conscious thought or decision he turned and wrapped his arms around Quatre’s neck. Unable to face him Trowa his face against the soft cotton of an expensive dress shirt and inhaled the scent that could only be described as Quatre.
“I’m sorry.” The words were soft, almost unheard, but they elicited a gentle carding of fingers through Trowa’s hair followed by a light kiss to the temple.
“I know. So am I.” The hand shifted and slid down to Trowa’s neck half massaging and half caressing the skin there. “I hate it when we fight.” The pain in Quatre’s voice matched the diamond splinter ache in Trowa’s gut and made it tighten in response. Experiencing his own hurt was bad, but hearing Quatre’s and knowing he caused it made Trowa feel physically ill.
“I do too.” Trowa raised his head, forcing himself to look at Quatre memorizing his face and drowning in the love in his eyes. It washed over Trowa rinsing away the guilt and remorse until all that was left was understanding and acceptance. He smiled, a weak imitation of what he usually showed Quatre, but genuine none the less. “But I love it when we make up.”
With a soft chuckle Quatre pulled away then offered Trowa his hand. “I think we should do that now.”
Above them lightning flashed, illuminating the world for the space of a second, and was followed by the low rumble of thunder. A gentle patter on the roof signaled that the rain had arrived as well, but it was the kind that nourished growth instead of washing away everything in its path. The constricting band in Trowa’s chest eased and he drew a full breath as relief and the first stirrings of passion flooded his body. Without hesitation he took Quatre’s hand holding it firmly and carefully like the precious thing it was. In that moment, savoring the anticipation of what was to come, he realized like light needed darkness happiness required pain to for it be fully appreciated.