Work Text:
" Confliction"
Aug 2003 ShenLong
Part 8 in the War Torn Arc.
~ Trowa POV ~
Reluctantly I walk into in the large conference room. I pause for a moment to gaze around me at the milling crowd and subconsciously tug at my jacket, feeling completely at sea amongst the throng of business people. The roar of chatter begins to decrease to a low rumble as the group locate their allocated seats and proceed to sit, reporters and the like at the front, heads of companies in the middle and want-to-be's bringing up the rear.
Where do the jaded and rejected sit?
You gave me your cool hand, luke warm reception
It's been such a long time, still there on the platform
I lean casually against the pillar at the rear and watch as you take your familiar place on the podium, shuffling your papers with practiced ease, the well rehearsed speech rolling off your tongue, caressing the crowd in just the right way.
It may have been a while since I watched this, but your style and flair hasn't changed.
Mingling with the crowds after the speeches, I lock eyes with you across the room. Moments later we stand side by side.
"Trowa."
I take the slender hand that is offered to me and shake it, noting the firm grip but cold touch. "Quatre," I return in my usual quiet tone.
What can an old flame do,
But talk about just what's new
Things that have happened since you went away
You release my hand and gaze at me for a moment, eyes unreadable. "How are you?"
The question is stiff and forced, I can tell from your body language that you are uncomfortable, the shifting colors of your eyes alert me that there is more you wish to say, but won't, and the stilted tone of your voice confirms you have yet to fully comprehend what it is you want.
"I'm fine. You?"
"Okay." You look away for a moment before returning your gaze. "What have you been doing?"
I shift a little and take a glass of orange juice from the tray offered by a passing waiter. "Not much. I'm back with the circus doing the knife act with Cathy. Occasionally I share the lion act. And you?"
You tug uncomfortably at the tie that hides under your collar before choosing your words carefully. "I still have the running of the business." Your eyes refuse to meet mine as you speak and instinctively I know that all is not well.
"I can see that the business is going from strength to strength." I wave an arm around the room indicating all the various people that have attended this little speech.
You sigh softly and gaze around. I detect the air of sadness that surrounds you but I refuse to allow my resolve to weaken, as much as it pains me to see you like this I cannot allow myself to buckle. You have to figure this out for yourself.
No one, no one comes close
Someone maybe will come my way, until that day
No one comes close to you
"Have you...."
Your voice is barely a whisper, and at first I'm not sure that you spoke, then when the words are repeated I know I didn't mistake them.
I shake my head and note the small spark of hope that flickers briefly in aqua. "No, Quatre. I haven't." I drop my eyes and hide behind my bang unwilling to let you see the pain of my broken heart.
I see you in all those up market movies
You talk on the talk shows, I stare at the TV
I glimpse a brief smile tug at the corners of your mouth and I have to ask the same question myself. "Have you?"
You shake your head and try to pin my gaze but I won't allow it. Once I am held by that look I know I will crumble. I steel myself and place the walls around my aching heart, schooling my features to neutrality.
"I saw you on the television last week." I wait for your reaction.
You shift your weight and lick your lips. "I hate those interviews."
"You never used to."
"Before, I had something to make them bearable.... Now I ...."
I catch my breath waiting for you to say it.
But you don't.
What can an old friend say
I know you don't feel this way
I'm taking this chance today, to let you know
Your eyes seek mine out again and this time I allow the meeting. Leaning forward I lower my voice so that only you can hear. "How are you really, Quatre?"
A small sob catches in your throat and I bear witness to the struggle within you as the sides collide. I sigh as I realize that you still cannot take that final step.
"I'm sorry," you breathe. "I want... I want..."
I raise my finger to your lips and silence you. Tear filled aqua searches my face and I soften my expression.
Of all the lovers I've ever known, you stand alone
No one comes close to you
"Quatre..."
You stare at me, wide eyed and innocent, but I know different.
"Have you figured it out yet?"
"I... I'm not sure."
"Quatre, I love you. I have always loved you, but I will not come back to you until you can look inside your own heart and truly see what it is you want from yourself. For until you can know that then you will never know what it is you want from me."
I reach closer and lightly brush my lips against yours.
Oh I'm going back to my friend
One on whom I can depend
Before you can speak again I pull away and set my glass down in the conveniently placed plant pot. "Search your heart, Quatre. Learn to love yourself and be at peace. When you can do that then talk to me, I'll be waiting." I turn to leave but you catch my sleeve.
"Trowa."
I pause and turn my head.
"I need you, Trowa."
I shake my head. "No, you don't, Quatre. You have everything you need, I'm just a convenience." I cannot help the bitterness that seeps into my tone.
"How can you say that?" Your eyes flash angrily at me.
I spin around, mouth pressed into a firm line. "Take a long look at yourself, Quatre. Listen to your heart and not the other voices, search and locate. When you have the answer to that then you will know where to find me." I shake myself free of your grasp and leave, my long legs eating up the distance between myself and the door. I don't look back, I refuse to falter, steadfastly keeping my eyes locked on the opening ahead.....
I hear the mournful cry that follows me to the cool air of the colony. My heart shatters and my tears escape as I exit.
"Trowaaaaa........."
I just smile at her and pretend, I'm free of you
I'm free of you, God knows you're free of me
Cathy looks up from her position at the stove top, pausing in her stirring of the pot. An eyebrow raises itself in silent question.
I summon a fake smile to my face, and if she notices, she doesn't comment.
"You okay, Trowa?"
I shrug out of my jacket and turn to face her, hiding behind my bang once more. "I'm fine, Cathy."
She frowns.
I raise my chin and meet her eyes, hiding my emotions as best I can. "I'm free, Cathy."
She knows I'm lying.
~ oOo ~