The Biting Silence
Love hath a language of its own
A voice that goes
From heart to heart - whose mystic tone
Love only knows
- Persian love poem
There is, within the depth of every soul, a call, an eternal pull toward the unspoken needs. To deny this bidding can be painful to not
only yourself, but to the one with whom you share your soul.
A Spiritual Moment of Truth …
Morning brings no light to my heart. I know that today is a day of change; I can feel it so deeply that I do not doubt myself.
The encroaching darkness upon my world feels ominous and consuming. My heart sinks as I pick up the white-flowered tree and head toward the dining room for breakfast. The last of my hopes are based upon this morning's meal. It was a difficult decision, but something must change for I no longer wish to feel so isolated in a home full of people.
As I walk, I find myself hoping that I am wrong about everything. I don't want to be invisible to my friends; I need them. If only someone would reach out and take just a moment to be with me. My heart feels so cold and empty, just like my life. I am nothing to anyone, who would want to be with someone like me? I am socially inept and utterly lost in a world that I am not trained to fully deal with.
But it is stupid to expect friends or anyone to fulfill your personal needs. If you can't do it, how can you possibly expect anyone else to do it for you?
Entering through the patio doors, I walk around the crowded table toward my seat. As usual, Trowa and Quatre sit side by side at the head of the table. Wufei and Zechs sit on the right. I walk around to the left side, taking my regular seat on Trowa's other side.
Placing the potted tree on the table, a certain resignation washes over me.
Trowa nodded as he buttered his toast. I know that he is acknowledging my presence, but I had hoped that he would make eye contact with me.
Quatre looked at the bonsai and smiled. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but one of his sisters demanded his immediate attention. That is the end of that.
I look over at Wufei, he seems intensely interested in his food, and this is obviously a distraction. My mind starts to wonder what is going on across the table, although I doubt that I really want to know. Zechs is reading something, his eyes seemingly following words. But both of his hands are below the table. I may be naïve but I am not stupid.
I stare at my empty plate. Food doesn't interest me right now, nothing does. I am nothing; I deserve nothing so no wonder I have faded away from the world.
My despair has graduated to acceptance and resignation. My friends will never see me as they see each other, as lovers and couples. I am Heero, alone, lover to no one.
I could go to my room and stay there until I starved to death, would anyone notice? Not likely. Perhaps the smell of my rotting flesh would bring visitors to my room. It would actually be humorous if it weren't sadly true.
But this seems to sum it all up. They have formed alliances and in a sense, strongholds. I am simply not a part of that. I may be their friend and they know that I exist, but I am a fixture in their lives and nothing more.
I am not wanted.
As I stare at my empty plate, I contemplate the various ways that I can end my existence. Leaving and heading out into the real world wasn't a safe idea for anyone, including myself. I tend to get frustrated by people who don't understand or outright ignore my methods of communication. Sometimes I express my anger with a gun and or a death threat, Duo says that I shouldn't do that.
Why did Duo come to mind? Why now? Why did my body suddenly feel a spark of life from within?
As I ponder this, my consciousness is touched by the rhythmic jingle of distant bells. A barely discernable ring, a tinkle of a bell, perhaps two, touches my desolate world.
It is steadily getting closer. No one else seems to notice.
Tingling warmth washes through me.
The rhythm of the jingle sounds bold and measured by body motion, as if the bells are coming for me. Somehow, I know.
The sound of the bells has stopped.
He is here.
In the hall, I can only see his silhouette for the lack of any lighting. His violet eyes seem to glow, piercing the darkness to look straight into mine. His gaze penetrates me to the very core of my soul. I feel his very essence as it mingles with my own. My awareness senses our needs, our wants, and our eternal oneness.
I cease to breathe; my entire being is paralyzed with comprehension. Everything about my life is about to change.
The biting silence is about to be shattered into a million pieces.
He slowly steps into the light of the dining room, presenting me with a wicked grin, teasing me with my first view of Duo Maxwell in almost a year.
To say that my Duo is beautiful is simply a generality used to try to put words to a concept that can't be described. He is so much more than that. Duo is strength personified, inside and out. He is small in form and gracefully toned; but as he enters the room, he is larger than life.
Duo rules any room that he occupies. I have seen it happen so many times. That doesn't mean that he can't hide, because when he does, you will never know that he is there. But he is such an intense presence; he couldn't help but to be the center of attention.
So there he stands, leaning idly against the doorframe to the dining room as if his unusual garments are everyday wear.
The din of the room suddenly falls to silence as the household beholds the sight that my mind and heart cherish.
A short leather tunic of charcoal gray and amethyst leather hide graces his torso. On the shoulders, Celtic designs are tooled into the hard leather. The top stops just below his waist.
Outrageous dark gray and purple leggings leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, they sensuously mold over every tight muscle of his ass and thighs. Knee-height soft leather boots of matching colors encase his lower legs.
His hair falls loose and free, hanging almost to his knees. The sumptuous chestnut silk is drawn away from his face by an elaborate system of small braids intertwined with leather decorative pieces.
He is a tantalizing vision.
But what draws the attention of everyone in the room is the scandalous codpiece planted blatantly over his crotch. The bright purple leather piece is adorned with numerous tiny bells, announcing the presence of Duo and his cock everywhere he went.
I cannot help but stare like the rest of the room's occupants.
And there he is, his eyes never to be drawn away from me, shaking the very foundation of my soul.
Duo Maxwell has arrived.
He has come for me.