You wait and listen for the rain to stop as you stand outside the door to the café where you were to meet your unofficial lover, Heero. He asked to meet you at the café and he was about seven hours late. You can’t even remember the last time you cried before today. When he missed your birthday, you were alright. He didn’t wish you Happy Holidays, and you were fine with that. He didn’t talk to you for a few months, and you understood completely. What you didn’t understand was that after all of that why were you crying now of all times. It was just another stood up date, just another missed rendezvous, and another pointless thing where he could spend some time with you.
You two got together after the war; he needed a place to become a different person out of the views of the population, and you needed someone to help pay the rent. Between conversation, fighting lessons he gave you, the emotion lessons you gave him the two of you became close and you wanted it to go farther than a simple peck on the lips or cuddling after dark. You craved words.
Your tears began falling faster as you wished that he was there next to you, free from whatever his unknown past held him from. You wanted to love him and he never let you, thinking that you were simply content to be protected…whenever he was around. So far you haven’t seen your Heero for close to a year and now.
“He could be dead.” You began to sob harder, imagining everything that could have happened. Limply falling to the ground, curling into a ball to protecting you from the biting cold and pain, you could only sob. Behind you the café was closing; the boy that was closing gave you a sympathetic glance and walking away.
A soft sigh came from in front of you, tear filled color eyes looked up into the face of the one person you thought would only be a dream. He was soaked and his brown hair fell limply against his neck and face. He looked absolutely gorgeous in your eyes, and he will always be in a good light in your eyes; beautiful. Yet you knew that no matter how much you begged and pleaded or wished, he would never tell you that he felt the same. Not even if he was captured because of it.
His lips pressed against yours in an attempt to stop the flow of tears. It wasn’t rough or romantic it was just a kiss. The pressing of flesh against flesh, you felt almost nothing but pain because of it.
“I’m sorry.” Heero whispered as you looked up at him. He kissed you again feeling as if he had received a blow to the gut for making you cry. “I’m sorry.” He whispered again, with a soft smile you embraced him; letting the man in front of you wipe away the tears. More numb kisses were shared between you.
You awoke from your rainy dream to an empty bed and a letter on the bedside table. It was more of a note with a few words written upon it. All in a hand you knew well. A dejected sigh left your lips and you picked up the phone and dialed a number you knew would want to be near you.
“Hey Duo.” You waited for his reply. “I’m ready to leave.”
When Heero got home that night he found his note and some of your words written neatly under it. Everything of yours was gone. Everything except the ring he had given you a year ago. Be home later.
You’re apology will come too late. I’ve moved on.