Price to Pay
folder
Gundam Wing/AC › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,113
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Gundam Wing/AC › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,113
Reviews:
1
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.
Price to Pay
Price to Pay
War, they say, brings out either the best or the worst in people. It is true, but Pagan does not know which is the case with him.
He loves this girl so; he has held her in his arms from the moment she was born, rocking her and stroking her hair to drive away her tears. He has done this while she was growing teeth as a baby, when she scraped her knees playing or had nightmares as a child, when she felt lonely and misunderstood as a teen.
Now her loved ones are dead, war scorches the Earth and her reality has been turned upside down trice over. Pagan’s old heart aches for her, for he fears she might be too far gone for consolation.
But he holds her as he has always done, rocking her and stroking her hair, and when she looks at him with too bright eyes and presses against him and covers his face and his lips with kisses, he does not draw away, because it is better than her eyes being flat and empty, his touch going unacknowledged and the words that spilled from his mouth unheard.
She is too young and he is too old, she too rich and he too poor, but both have seen too much madness and destruction. The way the world is changing reminds him of a past he is no longer fit to face. The status quo slips away ever faster, but it is the only thing he has to hold on to, so when she asks him to touch her he complies. And when her small hands and soft lips coax an erection he had thought himself no longer capable of out of him, and she takes him as her own, he closes his ears to her moaned cries for help - Heero, Father, Brother - and loses himself in the illusion of being young again, allows himself to enjoy the soft smooth skin and firm, fresh breasts of this girl he loves so.
She has been distant from the moment her ancestral home was destroyed and grew more distant still as the years passed, but now she is close to Pagan again, so close, her inside him and him inside her. A wild spirit thrown from her proper time by the raging fire, come to strip him, too, of his age, fleeing from a new fire and finding sanctuary in a different kind of white-hot glow.
But when the flames have run their course, laying the borders of their bodies and the poison in their souls in ashes, to be swept away by the chill wind of returning consciousness, she reverts back to being a fifteen-year-old girl, and he an old man.
Her sanity and his resolve to protect are back, but the toll it has taken is a barren wasteland between them, a scorched wound that will separate them forever. Regardless of what the war brings out in people, the price is always too high.
War, they say, brings out either the best or the worst in people. It is true, but Pagan does not know which is the case with him.
He loves this girl so; he has held her in his arms from the moment she was born, rocking her and stroking her hair to drive away her tears. He has done this while she was growing teeth as a baby, when she scraped her knees playing or had nightmares as a child, when she felt lonely and misunderstood as a teen.
Now her loved ones are dead, war scorches the Earth and her reality has been turned upside down trice over. Pagan’s old heart aches for her, for he fears she might be too far gone for consolation.
But he holds her as he has always done, rocking her and stroking her hair, and when she looks at him with too bright eyes and presses against him and covers his face and his lips with kisses, he does not draw away, because it is better than her eyes being flat and empty, his touch going unacknowledged and the words that spilled from his mouth unheard.
She is too young and he is too old, she too rich and he too poor, but both have seen too much madness and destruction. The way the world is changing reminds him of a past he is no longer fit to face. The status quo slips away ever faster, but it is the only thing he has to hold on to, so when she asks him to touch her he complies. And when her small hands and soft lips coax an erection he had thought himself no longer capable of out of him, and she takes him as her own, he closes his ears to her moaned cries for help - Heero, Father, Brother - and loses himself in the illusion of being young again, allows himself to enjoy the soft smooth skin and firm, fresh breasts of this girl he loves so.
She has been distant from the moment her ancestral home was destroyed and grew more distant still as the years passed, but now she is close to Pagan again, so close, her inside him and him inside her. A wild spirit thrown from her proper time by the raging fire, come to strip him, too, of his age, fleeing from a new fire and finding sanctuary in a different kind of white-hot glow.
But when the flames have run their course, laying the borders of their bodies and the poison in their souls in ashes, to be swept away by the chill wind of returning consciousness, she reverts back to being a fifteen-year-old girl, and he an old man.
Her sanity and his resolve to protect are back, but the toll it has taken is a barren wasteland between them, a scorched wound that will separate them forever. Regardless of what the war brings out in people, the price is always too high.