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[personal profile] windandwater
This is just to make it official for those who don't know, but I'm leaving LJ completely. For the rest of this week at least. Tomorrow is the Bar Exam and it runs for three days, so don't expect to see me about at all until Thursday night. Or even until the weekend since I plan on spending Thursday after the Bar drunk and crying. No online time for me at all. *whines* It will be hard, but I know I can do it.

So, because I'm a total h0r like that, I am declaring this to be a spam post. Go ahead. Run wild! Give me fics, give me links, give me pics, just babble to your heart's content and rape my inbox so I have something to see when I finally DO come back to the wonderful world of LJ. I don't even care if you write me a drabble and post it one word at a time. XD;

Though, I've tried to make a spam post before and it failed a bit miserably, so I don't have very high expectations this time around. Feel free to prove me wrong though!

Re: Spoil of War, prologue

Date: 2006-02-28 01:20 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mikkeneko.livejournal.com

“And then, and then,” Quatre continued, working up to a good rant, “she had the nerve, the absolute gall, to accuse Heero of being the one who hurt him! Hurt him? Heero saved him! She doesn’t like pain? Well then by God she should have seen him when we first found him! See how much of her precious little fantasy she could restore then!”

“Quatre, Quatre!” Trowa had to raise his voice to cut across his lover’s tirade. He didn’t raise his voice often, and the unexpectedness of it was enough to bring Quatre out of his fury. “You’re making a scene,” Trowa admonished, quiet once more. “Do you want the whole camp to know what happened?”

“I’m sorry,” Quatre sighed, and reluctantly returned to his spot on the couch. “But even thinking about it makes me want to give that shrew a piece of my mind...”

“You already did,” Trowa pointed out. “Several, in fact. Vocally. Explicitly.”

A slight flush of blood tinted Quatre’s cheeks, as his fading ire gave way to embarrassment. “I know,” he grumbled. He stewed in silence for a few more minutes, but then burst out, “Someone had to! Did you see the look on his face?”

“Whose?” Trowa returned. “Heero’s or Duo’s?”

“Either,” Quatre said bitterly. “It was pretty much the same expression, except that Duo didn’t look deadly like Heero did.”

Trowa held his silence, stroking Quatre’s hair lightly. Quatre sighed, unhappiness twisting his features. “He just looked... dead...”

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