Oh Sinners
folder
Gundam Wing/AC › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
752
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Gundam Wing/AC › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
752
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
ch3
A/n: I’m sorry this chapter took so long. I took some time out to find a good beta to check over my story. Thank you ShenLong. You’ve done a delightful job so far.
Trowa’s POV
Have you ever read any of those stories where things just work out? Where the guy always gets the girl, or in this case, the other guy? That’s not how those things really work. Okay, Sometimes that’s how things work, but not when you are in love with a man of the cloth. They don’t work like that when you have luck like mine. My name is Trowa Barton, and if you ever learn anything from me let it be this: DON’T EVER FORCE YOURSELF ON SOMEONE. It ruins your life. The media may lead you to believe that if you throw yourself at someone there's a good chance that they will fall for you. That is a load of shit.
Let me tell you my story.
Once upon a time there was a gorgeous blonde priest. His name was Quatre. If there was ever any man closer to heaven created, then I would like to meet him. Quatre was very beautiful. I say very beautiful because I simply lack the vocabulary to give you a proper definition of his outstandingly good looks. He has fair skin that is softer then anything you can imagine. His hair is an extremely light blonde. When he’s in the proper light he seems to glow. His eyes are so blue and full of happiness and pure hatred for my sinful soul that I weep ever morning at the memory of them. It was only fitting that he have a religious job. He was so kind. He was so terrified.
I tainted this lovely man. I touched him. He told me no and in my frantic need to make him love me, I didn’t accept it. He tried to stop me. The media was wrong. I poured myself into him and I got nothing in return. Well, that’s a lie. I did get something in return. I got a mindful of sweet memories and an eternity's worth of nightmares. It was worth it for that one moment that I looked into his eyes and saw my reflection. It was worth it just to see myself in him. It meant the world to me to be a part of him.
You see, I blame this on the media; but in reality it was my fault. There are a million and a half things I could blame my sexual assault of Quatre on, but the only thing that would be the truth, is that I love him, that I wanted him so badly that no matter what my conscience said was right or wrong, I *would* have him.
I finally snapped.
A man can only handle being alone for so long until that loneliness engulfs him, chews him up, and spits him out in a slobber coated, self-hating mess. The thing is, I was a mess before. I finally have a reason for it though. I have every right to hate myself, because I, Trowa Barton, am a rapist.
Trowa’s POV
Have you ever read any of those stories where things just work out? Where the guy always gets the girl, or in this case, the other guy? That’s not how those things really work. Okay, Sometimes that’s how things work, but not when you are in love with a man of the cloth. They don’t work like that when you have luck like mine. My name is Trowa Barton, and if you ever learn anything from me let it be this: DON’T EVER FORCE YOURSELF ON SOMEONE. It ruins your life. The media may lead you to believe that if you throw yourself at someone there's a good chance that they will fall for you. That is a load of shit.
Let me tell you my story.
Once upon a time there was a gorgeous blonde priest. His name was Quatre. If there was ever any man closer to heaven created, then I would like to meet him. Quatre was very beautiful. I say very beautiful because I simply lack the vocabulary to give you a proper definition of his outstandingly good looks. He has fair skin that is softer then anything you can imagine. His hair is an extremely light blonde. When he’s in the proper light he seems to glow. His eyes are so blue and full of happiness and pure hatred for my sinful soul that I weep ever morning at the memory of them. It was only fitting that he have a religious job. He was so kind. He was so terrified.
I tainted this lovely man. I touched him. He told me no and in my frantic need to make him love me, I didn’t accept it. He tried to stop me. The media was wrong. I poured myself into him and I got nothing in return. Well, that’s a lie. I did get something in return. I got a mindful of sweet memories and an eternity's worth of nightmares. It was worth it for that one moment that I looked into his eyes and saw my reflection. It was worth it just to see myself in him. It meant the world to me to be a part of him.
You see, I blame this on the media; but in reality it was my fault. There are a million and a half things I could blame my sexual assault of Quatre on, but the only thing that would be the truth, is that I love him, that I wanted him so badly that no matter what my conscience said was right or wrong, I *would* have him.
I finally snapped.
A man can only handle being alone for so long until that loneliness engulfs him, chews him up, and spits him out in a slobber coated, self-hating mess. The thing is, I was a mess before. I finally have a reason for it though. I have every right to hate myself, because I, Trowa Barton, am a rapist.