Note: Please, give
it a chance! It's a little different. Ehehe... Hope you like it. Seriously,
let me know *beams*
Pairings: 2+1 OC+2 1+2
Disclaimer: Not mine!! There, I admitted it! Beeddaaa!~ :P~
Came to Me
He came to me.
Not any of the other girls, though it seemed they would be more his type.
I was surprised the first time I saw him, hesitantly standing at the end
of the street, his eyes fastened on mine with a strange sense of longing.
I didn't understand, at first.
My understanding of men is that they like the whole ego trip thing. The
small, feminine, helpless woman to their big, muscular, brainless selves.
But this man had targeted me. Me! I just couldn't comprehend it. I was
taller than him. That much was obvious, even from as far away as he was
standing. He looked to be the prime example of someone who had grown up
malnourished; short, finely boned, pale skinned.
But his hair! It was beautiful. So obviously the only thing he took care
of on his body, anymore, as was evident by the ragged wear on his clothing;
the purplish marks under his wide eyes. He could have been as beautiful
as that shimmering mass of chestnut silk. I was sure of it.
And there I stood, paled in the reflection of what I though could have
been his former glory. I had never had time for hair like that. I always
kept it cropped short, and I don't think I owned a brush. I never had
the need, I could just run my fingers through it, the complete disarray
of chocolate brown more attractive than any other style I could pull off.
My skin was tanned, a rich golden you could only get out of the bottle
unless you were born with it, and I had been.
Like I said, I didn't understand why he stood there, looking at me with
those sad eyes. Eyes that spoke of hardships beyond even my comprehension.
And I had been through a lot, let me tell you.
But then he came to me.
With a deep breath, he steeled his shoulders and came to me. I could finally
see the shade of his eyes as he walked closer, one hand nervously moving
back to clutch at his luminous braid, twisting the tufted end almost unconsciously.
His eyes were... lovely in a bittersweet kind of way. Their color was
stunning. I'd never seen that shade before. A sort of dusky purple with
swirls of bright blue. But the expression they held was heartbreaking.
Like someone had taken a puppy and kicked it repeatedly. I wanted to hold
him, just comfort him. I thought my maternal side had died years ago.
He stopped before me, and I could tell he was drunk. Those heart wrenching
violets were clouded, but not just from whatever he had been drinking.
They quivered with restrained tears as he lifted his heart-shaped face
to look into my dark blue eyes. I had to swallow for a moment before I
could form the words that had been programmed into my head from over use,
not wanting to say it, but having no other choice. I couldn't stand there
with those eyes drilling holes into my previously deadened heart.
"There's a motel down the street... You're paying, right?" If
I could cry I would have at the look that came over his face then. But
instead I just watched as he looked away, his eyes closing briefly before
he nodded. I walked away, and he followed.
He used me.
Staring helplessly down at his sleeping form, his eyes clenched tight,
soft whimpers breaking from his throat, I had a bit of leather clutched
in my hands.
I was used to being used, sure. It was in the job description. There was
no way around it. It was what people expected, nothing given in return,
only taken. And I had used my fair share of people myself. To distract
from life, from the unbearable emptiness inside of me every time I ask
that one simple question.
But then he used me.
Not in the normal way the word implied, at first. No, at first he merely
talked to me. My heart aching more, beating faster with ever word that
left his lips.
"...i've missed you..." the haunted eyes would close, and I
didn't know whether to be relieved or saddened before they opened again
and he would edge forward, fingers barely grazing over my cheekbone before
disappearing again. "...so much..."
"...i kept my hair long..." the fingers back, fingering the
silken rope. "...would have cut it off. almost did..." he admitted
hesitantly, gazing up at me with those clouded eyes, and I nearly called
out in denial. How could someone destroy such beauty? "...but i didn't.
because you like it. liked it..."
"...i love you, you know..?" the anguished voice, softly husky,
worn thin with emotion. Dusky violet closed again, against the well of
"...why did you leave me..?" Hopeless, broken, tormented, tortured.
I couldn't take it anymore. I leaned forward and kissed him, silencing
him in one desperate move.
I saw him.
Face flushed, eyes clenched shut, beautiful as he came, the image would
forever be imprinted on my mind. But he called for someone else. Sure,
I hadn't told him my name but I never thought it could hurt so much, I
had never let anyone get to me like he had. He fell asleep as I watched,
eyes still closed, faint moisture trickling from the corners. I slid off
of him, the novelty of being the aggressor with a costumer long since
past if it had ever been at all.
I didn't want to be there when he woke up, when the forlorn whimpering
ceased and amethyst eyes opened to reality untainted by alcohol's mask.
I reached for his pants, pulling out his wallet, reaching for the money...
and pulled out a picture. My heart stopped, mouth falling open, hand clenching
around that thin, worn scrap of leather as I looked down at the creased
Staring back at me was a man nearly identical to myself. A faint smile
teased at his lips, lightening a face obviously used to a stern expression.
Cobalt eyes stared at the camera from beneath a mop of messy hair, a smudge
of back grease streaked over his nose and cheek. His arms were crossed
over his chest almost defiantly, but one large hand grasped a pair of
smaller ones where they were connected over one shoulder, long pale arms
wrapped around his neck.
And there he stood, gazing adoringly at my male image, not even bothering
to look at the camera as the photo was snapped. He was grinning, leaning
toward the other as if to lay a kiss on his cheek, large dusky purple
eyes smiling, laughing, so very loving.
I wished I had seen that expression, heard that laugh.
"...Heero..." I fumbled, replacing the picture as the man moaned
that name and shifted on the bed, removing some money, probably less than
was my due before dropping the wallet on the pile of his clothes. I pulled
my own clothes on and darted out the door, wondering how I could hurt
like this, ache over someone I didn't know. Wondering why I was jealous.
But then I saw him.
A little ways away from the motel, I saw him. Suit jacket flapping in
the breeze, chocolate hair flying wildly around his head, frown plastered
familiarly on his face. I stopped before him, my heart beating furiously,
eyes narrowed dangerously as he halted. His shocked eyes met mine squarely,
my exact height. My mouth opened to yell at him, to say something, anything
to him, for hurting that boy, for stealing that happy look from his violet
But then a hidden pain made itself known in those cobalt eyes so like
my own, a deep anguish so like that which had been in amethyst moments
before, only covered by a thick layer of ice. My mouth snapped shut, pressed
into a thin line before a sigh broke them apart again.
"Go to him," I whispered, positive he could hear me even over
the noise of people rushing around us. I told him the motel room, told
him to ask for a key, to go to him, make him better, heal the pain in
both their hearts. And he nodded, unquestioning. I was he, he was I, there
was no need to wonder. He left, rushing away in the direction I had come.
He came to me, but that was past.
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