Author: Enchantress101
see part 1 for warnings, disclaimer

{ Zechs POV }

Shades of Obsession + Interlude I
No Regrets

"Of the few things that I do not regret in my life, meeting Duo is one of them."

The room is dark except for the soft glow of the television. He sits in front of it, huddled beneath a thick blanket that is pulled tightly around his body so that he is covered from head to toe by the material. I am close enough to hear him breathing deeply, to hear him gasp in fear and sigh in relief at the television--and at that moment, there is no where that I'd rather be, except a little nearer, a little closer.

"Who's pulling at my braid?" he asks suddenly, shrinking even further into the blanket. "That is so not funny!"

From the bed, the Winner boy, who is wrapped up in the arms of his lover, says with a laugh, "No one is pulling at your braid, Duo. No one is close enough to."

"No, I feel someone pulling my braid!" He shakes his head roughly as if to swat away the offending hands, but nothing is there.

Barton speaks up this time. "Seriously, Duo, no one is there. Quatre, I told you that we shouldn't watch this horror movie."

"Duo insisted on it, despite the fact that he always gets scared when we watch one," Winner muses. "Okay down there, Duo?" sings the young blond man.

"Oh, shut up!" He pulls the blanket even tighter around his body. "I know what I felt."

He settles down again and returns his attention to the film just in time to release a soft cry of surprise as the axe murderer suddenly appears on the screen. "What a crazy ass movie," he whispers. Then he pulls back the blanket so that his head now sticks out, and then he looks at me. "How ya doing, Zechs? Wet yourself yet?"

There is an impish grin on his face as he says this, and I can't help but smile back. His beauty is arresting, the faint light of the TV dancing across his face. Wide, amethyst colored eyes that sparkle in the dark with plump and almost baby-like cheeks, accompanied by perfectly shaped plump lips. Stunning.

"No," I say softly. "I haven't wet myself. Yet."

He laughs and turns back to the movie, drawing the blanket back over his head.

How stupid I'd been to push him away. I'd let my fear of loving and loosing take control of my actions and color my thoughts. I could've lost him. I could have.

And what a loss that would have been. It had only been close to two months, and already the thought of living without seeing that smile, hearing that laugh or watching him sleep at night is hard to stomach. Never before have I felt this way about one person--it is terrifying yet exhilarating at the same time. I am not sure what to do with these overwhelming feelings that I have for him, and what I'd done in the past, ignoring and denying until my face turned blue, hadn't been all too effective. There had to be another way to deal with the feelings. Some other way . . .

He and Winner scream as one of the characters on screen meets an untimely end and a loud clap of thunder sounds at the same time. Barton laughs, and soon the two other young men join him, poking fun at their own ridiculousness.

But I can tell he is still scared despite the fact that he laughs at himself. The blanket is drawn even tighter, if that is possible, and his knees are brought up to his chest. The music from the television swells dramatically, outside lightning flashes and thunder bellows and he shakes and breaths deeply.

He is afraid, and now it is time that I put my feelings for him to good use.

Quietly I slide closer to him. I wrap one arm around his body and he jumps, startled by my sudden appearance at his side. He peeks out up at me curiously from the folds of the material. I say nothing, but I pull him closer and hold him just as Barton holds his lover. After a moment of staring into my eyes, he gives me a brilliant smile and returns his focus to the movie.

I can almost feel the surprise coming from Barton, and then he and Winner begin to whisper amongst themselves, talking about us, no doubt. It doesn't bother me--he is my only concern now. Eventually the two on the bed quiet down, and time passes until the movie ends. The lights are turned back on, and now it is time for bed.

"What a good movie," he says cheerfully, standing up and gathering the blanket in his arms. "Sleep tight, you two. Sweet dreams." He cackles evilly and follows me out of the room, down the hallway and into our bedroom. It sounds a little strange--our room. Strange, but . . . nice.

We settle down in our beds, and the lights are turned off. Everything is quiet for about a half an hour, until he whispers urgently, "What was that?"

"What was what?" I reply.

"That noise. The bump!" I hear him shift around. The covers are drawn up above his head, and he peers down at me over the edge of the bed.

I chuckle. "I didn't hear anything. The movie has warped your mind."

He huffs as if he is offended. "Oh, fine. Whatever."

It is quiet again. I am on the edge of falling to sleep when he says more anxiously, "There it is again! I'm serious!"

I hadn't heard anything, but the fear in his voice works at my heart. Without a word I get off of the cot and slide into the bed next to him, working my way underneath the covers until I am holding him close. "Is this alright?"

He is still. And then he says softly, "This is more than alright. It's perfect."

I was inclined to agree.

[chap. 13] [chap. 14] [back to Singles a - k]