Disclaimer: I have never, nor will I ever, own Gundam Wing and all things contained within. I do, however, own this fic, which I have painstakingly typed out from scratch.

Pairing: 1+2
Rating: PG
Genre: AU, Heero POV
Warnings: Nothing that I know of…
Notes: First GW … ‘Tis incredibly exciting. :) Feedback is much appreciated and will earn you my never-ending gratitude.

Summary: Sometimes the simplest things can mean the most…

He Smiles
by Seaa

You stare at him, from across the wide span of space separating the two of you. He smiles, and you feel your heart give a terrible lurch. Breathe, you tell yourself, all the while making sure nothing is revealed upon your face. You run a hand through your hair, suddenly feeling terribly self-conscious. Some random person approaches him, and as he accepts their invitation for a dance on the over-populated dance floor, you feel a strange sensation rack through your body. Shaking it off, you tear your eyes away from him and the mass of moving bodies, and stare at the half consumed drink in front of you.

You take a long gulp of your drink, hardly tasting the hard liquor as it burns its way down your throat. You feel someone’s presence behind you, but ignore him or her, planning to do so for as long as it will take for them to go away. Your thoughts wander, as they do sometimes, and they finally settle on the long-haired, violet eyed male on the dance floor. You think about him, the way he moved, and laughed, and...

…smiled… and you feel your eyes slide towards the last direction you saw him in. But he is no longer there, and you drag your eyes back, feeling a strange sensation of...

...disappointment? But it is gone, replaced with another feeling, when you imagine, again, his smile. Why, you wonder silently, why him? For there was, indeed, no real reason why that person’s mere presence should bother you so much. And there was no reason why he should command such a hold over you, such a...

...longing... something that you hadn’t felt in so long. Thinking back, you mentally correct yourself. For bother wasn’t the word for what you were, are, feeling, since he isn’t a bother at all. He is just different, that’s all. Different because he makes you feel, makes you want to feel, something that you really haven’t had the urge to do since forever.

Strange, also, you think, because he hasn’t done very much at all, not knowingly, anyhow. All he did was show up, at the terrible, loud, smoky club that you always swear never to return to, but end up doing so anyway, and...

…he smiled… leaving you at such odds that you don’t really know what to do now. Nothing, and no one, has ever made you feel this way, and since this is such a new feeling, you can’t seem to pin point what exactly it is. Maybe, you muse, it doesn’t have a name. Maybe you are just strange, which is what people have been telling you your whole life, anyway.

Not that it mattered. Not that anything matters, anyway, which is what you’ve believed, always believed. We live, we grow, we die, and in more ways than one. Strange how you can still remember those words, spoken so long ago. But now, you had always believed that you had two pieces of the puzzle, and you had always been simply waiting for the last piece to make itself known. Still, however...

...his smile...

You would live for that, perhaps? …Yes, possibly, maybe.

“Excuse me.”

The voice startles you and you jump, but only inwardly, of course. One must always keep control over ones feelings, or they will control oneself. You want to laugh at the utter pathetic-ness of your internal recitation, but the idea of how ridiculous you would look keeps a tight rein.

A hand slides onto your arm, and slowly, tentatively, you turn your head around to meet…


And you realise, that your earlier observation was indeed true, a million times over. For his smile, this smile… Going through hell and high water didn’t quite cover it. And he was even more stunning, now, standing but a few feet away from you.

“Hello,” he says, simply, and you realise that the sound of his voice is rather nice, too.

He slides into the seat, next to you, and for a while, you just sort of… look. Not stare, per say, but more of an… admiration.

You flick your eyes over him, and back up to meet his eyes. He holds your gaze, and you do the same, all the while admiring his eyes.

At last his hand moves from its prior place on your arm and slips into your hand… a sort of… caress.

He looks at you, and it’s like you are sharing a special secret, one that lies just between the two of you. And then…

He smiles at you, and then, slowly, you smile back.


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