Under Rug Swept A "Gundam Wing" vignette Sephy 'What part of our history's reinvented And under rug swept What part of your memory is selective And tends to forget?' --Alanis Morissette I never loved you. The words come, simple and clean in the admission. As if they were always there, waiting on the tip of my tongue to be dispelled, to be set free. I never loved you. Gets easier each time I say it. I've been accused of being easy but I'll admit that the ferocity with which you attacked me after our forced stay on Earth, just hours after the war ended, shocked even me. The heroes of the fucking day and what better prison for our labors than Queen Relena's fairy palace, resplendent with enough gild and antiques to finance several small countries. I was surprised you stayed, given how you felt about her, surprised you managed to put up with her oh-so-sympathetic understanding. Nice girl, makes my skin crawl. The first time we had sex you cornered me in one of those lush hallways, shoving me hard against a priceless tapestry, hands tearing hard enough to send buttons flying in frantic plinks down the hall. Maybe I should have stopped you, would have if I hadn't been so caught up. What can I say? It seemed like good idea at the time. That excuse will only go so far, of course and does nothing to cover the second, third, and fourth time after that. I'm pretty sure Pargan walked in on us at one point and we're damn lucky he didn't keel over from a heart attack. There was definitely a vein twitching in his forehead as he backpedaled out. And of course after that, Relena's hospitality became somewhat...chill. Can't imagine why. At least we didn't stay long enough to explain that rather unfortunate stain on the couch. I've no desire to test the limits of Relena's pacifism. So we left, wandered around like a pair of loons -- fighting most of the time and fucking the other half. I think the only time I've been more exhilarated was in battle. Most of our encounters were battles, nails and flesh battering at each other, seeking some sense of punishment and redemption in each other. I'm omitting all the quieter times, times when we lay against each other, the night thick and sweating around us, my hands travelling the map of skin against me, smooth and strong, carrying my scent and saliva. I carried your wounds as well, the tender throb of a nip at my throat, the rough your teeth left as they scraped my jaw with hungry kisses. You were warm, such a contrast to the ice you presented the rest of the world. Warm and silent and completely mine. I never loved you. It's been four days since you walked out, without a word or sign of return. The first two I spent in bed, surrounded by the evidence of our passion, unable to make sense of what had happened. I hated you, I said it over and over in my mind, envisioning scenarios where you returned and I threw that back in your face. Day three saw me getting up and moving about, going on with my life as if you had never been there. I took the rail out of Paris, headed southward with little plan or thought as to what next. There was nowhere I had to be anyway. I found your brush, silvery strands of blond still caught in it when I opened my backpack today. I found myself staring at it, wondering that you would leave such a small but vital item. I know just how vital--you don't survive with hair this long without a grooming implement handy. I should throw it out. Instead I turn it over and over in my hands, recalling the way your curves fit into my leaner lines, your eyes wise and broken as you sipped tea and stared at those around you. We were both lost, lost in this brave new world, each of the other's anchor. Maybe that's why I feel so adrift now. I never loved you, it's true. But I think I needed you and the realization is more surprising than you know. It pierces me and I feel cheated. I never loved you. You were the enemy and I took you into my bed. You wounded Quatre, the dearest person I know and I forgot that in a rush of passion. I left friends and family to follow you, despising you the whole time as you claimed to despise me. I never loved you, so why do I now feel so empty? ***End. return to splash page