[fake joy] My birthday is rolling
around soon, so I thought I'd write myself a slightly-earlier birthday fic.
Warnings: *coughs and mumbles* It's a surprise.
I own nothing.
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--Birthday Bash---
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"Surprise!!"
The door spills open and I'm instantly assaulted with
flashes of familiar faces and friendly smiles. Someone near the back of the
crowd throws a roll of blue streamer, and my eyes lock onto it as it flies
through the air silently, coloring the world for a brief second before gravity
pulls it down to the carpet Laughter caresses my ears as I step into the room,
trying to count how many people were bunched in my office.
Quatre's excited voice broke through the cheers, everyone
immediately responding.
"Happy birthday to you!"
I can't stop myself from smiling as a strong hand grasps
my shoulder and tugs me further into the room. The people part to the side as
I'm led through to my desk. A blue-trimmed cake is sitting innocently on the
table with eighteen brightly lit candles circling the edge.
"Happy birthday to you!"
Trowa lets my arm go and steps back into a row of
co-workers and friends, his voice adding to the obnoxious singing. I turn away
from the cake and smile more boldly at everyone who cared to show up, and
finally my eyes come to a pause on him.
His eyes glitter as he lifts a hand and flashes me the
V-for-Victory sign, for a brief moment stopping his participation in the
festivities. We watch each other closely, until he laughs and waves his arms
around wildly.
Duo's eyes close and he raises his voice a couple of
pitches so he can be heard above all else.
"Happy birthday, dear Heero!"
Familiar faces fade into the background as he steps
forward, his hands outstretched in my direction. My hands find their way closer
and closer to his wrists as he stops about a foot in front of me and grins that
broad grin that tells me he's up to something.
I open my mouth to comment about how much I hate his
tricks, but he beats me to the punch-line and jerks his arms up, his fingers
uncurling away from his palms. Color clouds my vision temporarily as a shower
of red confetti flies into my face. I feel a few oddly-tasted shards fall into
my parted lips, and I spit them out quickly, ignoring his beautiful laughter.
The crowd surely goes wild with laughter, as well, but I
can't hear anything else. My eyelids slip open and I see him in front of me
still, his eyes burning into my soul. Silence is thick in the office and I
flick my eyes around the room to see the rest of the guests.
I was unprepared for them to be gone.
The blue streamers are nowhere to be seen, and the
birthday cake isn't on the desk with all the candles that probably won't go out
until they are turned off by the trickster himself. Quatre isn't weaving
through the crowd, laughing. Trowa isn't watching me with the intensity that
he's well-known for. Wufei isn't standing by Sally, toasting me with a glass of
punch.
My co-workers aren't singing and swaying their plastic
cups to-and-fro as they try to make the birthday song sound as horrendous as
humanly possible.
The lights are dulled down, the room only lit by the cold
glare of the moon out the window.
Une isn't trying to force a cone-shaped birthday hat on my
head while whispering that I'd better have a good time or I was going to get
more paperwork.
My big birthday bash consists of Duo.
His hands are held outward towards me, splotches of red
stuck on his palms.
Confetti, surely.
His eyes are staring straight into mine, his laughter
gone. His voice silent.
There's a tickling sensation on my face, and I bring a
hand up and swipe a finger across, trying to flick the intruder off. My skin
encounters liquid.
I bring my hand in front of my face to have a look, and I
see trails of red. Duo starts to take a step back, arms still reaching for me.
My hands are suddenly at my face, wiping at the liquid. The red liquid stains
my palms, and I reach for Duo without another thought.
I snatch one of his outstretched arms and wrap my hands
firmly around his wrists. He hisses in pain, his eyes separating from mine to
stare down at his hands. I follow his gaze and see the fresh blood seeping from
between my fingers.
A soft shout leaves his throat as he loses his balance and
tips backwards. I lower us both down to the floor and hold his wrists. The
fingers of his left hand loosen, and his razor blade tumbles to the floor to
join us.
I scream for help, but no one responds. The office
building is clear.
I put pressure on his slashed wrist, rocking him against
my chest. The phone shrieks in the sudden silence. My hand fumbles around on
the desk until I can grab the cord of the receiver, and I yank until the phone
falls to the floor. I answer it, and words rush out.
"Oh, god. Help! Help! It's Duo- He cut his wrist!
Please... Please!"
I feel soft lips against my chin, and I glance down to see
his vibrant eyes flash briefly with laughter. His free arm raises a black
object, and I freeze. My body shuts itself down in denial as I let one of my
hands leave his wrist to do what? To stop him?
Just as my fingers clasp around his wrist to yank his arm
away, his finger tenses and the object clicks. For a split second, the office
is painfully loud and lit with a flash of white light and then... all is
silent, yet again.
Red flashes into my eyes, blinding me with color.
His gun spills from limp fingers.
My mind races until the blood is blood no more, but
confetti thrown by my love.
His laughter bubbles out of soft lips, and he dances away
before I have a chance to get my revenge.
And it's not until his body turns cold against my chest
that I can actually believe my fantasy.
"Happy birthday to you."
--End
Ah... to hate birthdays!