Disclaimer: Don't own ‘em, just play with ‘em

Pairing: 1+2
Rating: PG
Challenge: Ten – whatever it means
Warning: Shounen-ai, no spoilers

A/N: Another slice of life from Duo's POV - part of the "Good in the Little Things" series. GW500 / 500 word challenge ... since this is a 500 word challenge, it will be short and is only a representation of a small slice of life - a forkful of chocolate cake.

Degrees of Separation
by Merith

Degrees of separation can be measured in many ways not the least is distance. There have been times when I felt the distance between Heero and I to be ten million space miles, and at others, ten millimeters was too far between us. Those times I cherished and hoarded, to pull out on dismal days to remember.

One day, not so long ago, had been one of the more distant ones; Heero had closed himself off from me almost completely. Before when he would get in one of these moods, I could sometimes talk him out of it. But that night, after I'd worked hours later than usual, Heero would hardly look at me, let alone respond to anything said. I could only believe he'd been upset with me for some reason.

Work had been a bitch, and the tension Heero added to my stiff shoulders nearly set me off. Knowing it was Heero and how he was, I held my tongue and went to bed almost as soon as I'd finished the last bite of dinner. I didn't see any need to prolong either of our communal misery.

As it goes, though, sleep didn't come and I tossed and turned doing more to disturb the bed than rest. Giving it up, I rose and headed for the front porch to sit on the glider, thinking the night air and stargazing would relax me.

I felt more than heard his presence behind me, and waited, wondering if he'd come to some resolution to his problem from earlier in the evening. He sat on the glider, not looking at me but the stars I continued to watch.

You weren't home, he'd said in a quiet tone, a mere breath between us. He went on to tell me that he felt alone and didn't like it.

My exhaled breath allowed me to let go of the tension and anger I harbored, letting me move closer to him to draw in his warmth. His arm went around my shoulders, and his whisper was nearly lost in the movement. I was afraid... afraid I would always be alone, he'd said.

He could tell me so much with so little. I dropped my head against his arm and told him he'd never be alone, that I would always be there for him.

A quick tightening of his arm, and a release of pent up breath, he nodded in silent agreement.

Looking back up at the stars, I wondered how to categorize this day. Ten million miles? Or ten millimeters? When he kissed the top of my head, I knew and smiling, I added another special memory to the box I treasured.


on to 'pendulum swing'

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