I Want You to Know
By: Kitty E.
I was never really close with any of my sisters, by the time I was old
enough to form any lasting bond they were all at boarding school, or college.
Some were married, one or two with children of their own already, and others
were just starting out with their careers. After our father's death, Iria and
I become closer. I can't truly call it a bond between brother and sister,
because in so many ways she's become the mother I never had. She's not really
that old, but she's wise, and she loves me like a mother would. I think. A
mother's love is unconditional, or at least it should be, I don't really know
if Iria accepts *everything* about me.
I'm gay. I think... I really haven't tested the waters enough to say that
without a doubt. Maybe it's bisexuality, maybe it's fate, but I'm in love
with Trowa Barton, and that's just a fact. Gay or not, I certainly like what
we do together and that seems like reason enough not to question my
motivation. A lot of people know, Rashid knows, and if it were within his
boundaries, I know he'd quote the Koran. Allah and I will have a talk when I
die, but until then I'm not concerned with what He thinks. Duo knows... he's
always known. Catherine knows, she doesn't care for me, she knows what I did,
and while I've tried my hardest to explain what the ZERO system, what losing
my father like that did to me, she accepts me because I make Trowa smile.
I make Trowa smile... just saying that, thinking it, knowing it makes me
insanely happy. I never know what will cause it, sometimes it's when I say "I
love you," and other times he cries when I say it. There are days he laughs
at my jokes, shares in my good humor, and days when he's lost in himself, but
when it comes down to it... I make Trowa smile, and that enough to push away
all the guilt and regret I keep inside. I want to be the only one who makes
him happy. I want to be the only person he needs in the entire universe so
that he'll never leave. And I want everybody to know that. I want Iria to
know.
I've almost told her a hundred times, but I'm afraid of what she'll say.
I could accept it from anybody else, I could have accepted it from my father
if he had ever known, but... if she hated me, if she thought I indulged in
sin, or was ill I don't know what I'd do. So I stay silent. She's only like
my mother... there are things I want to share. I wanted to tell her, to tell
anybody really but especially her, about the first night Trowa and I spent
together. I needed someone to rage, and cry, and be silent with when I lost
him. I wanted someone to know how happy I was and why, when I found him
again. I wanted it to be Iria, but whenever I opened my mouth, I wondered if
she could understand.
I'm going to tell her tonight. I swear to you, I will. We're driving to
the desert estate near the Maguanac's camp. I haven't seen them in a long
time, and god only knows what they're planning to welcome me. We're in the
jeep, racing across the sands, nothing but an amiable silence between us, and
I can't speak. If I just didn't have to say the words, if she could only
guess on her own she could decide to bring it up be it for good or bad. I
wimp out, as Duo would say, and try to make inferences.
"I invited someone to stay with us, he'll be waiting for us. I really
want you to meet him."
"Who's that?" she asks, eyes still on the road.
"Trowa. We met during the war."
"You never feel like talking about the war with me, and yet you invite a
friend to reminisce?" she asks. Just like a woman to turn a casual comment
into a mortal wound.
"It's not like that..." I sigh softly. "We're more than friends, I really
love him." There. Dammit, I said it.
Iria smiles, "I'm not surprised. You didn't grow up with any boys your
own age. I'm surprised you haven't found a stand-in brother before."
I blink, it's like she doesn't want to hear. What do I have to do?
Maybe... I could just kiss Trowa when he greets us. I shake my head, but
discreetly. Iria deserves better than that, guerrilla tactics were not fair
to her. "I can tell you anything, can't I?"
Iria nods, "You know that. I want you to, Quatre. You don't always have
to be perfect, I know you have problems, troubles, it helps to talk."
"And if you didn't like what you hear?" I feel like a child, asking for
reassurance. How do I expect her to reply?
"I don't know, it just depends." She smiles and glances away from the
world outside to look at me. In a single glance she knows I have something to
say. "Honestly, Quatre what are getting at? It's not like you to play games."
"He's not like a brother to me..." I swallow as if that could subdue the
fear. "We're lovers. If it were legal... I think I would have married him by
now."
The jeep swerves ever so slightly, for a moment she'd let go of the
wheel. She's so quiet. It isn't just the lack of words, her eyes and face are
shut to me. I knew... deep in my heart I knew she'd hate me for this. She
opens her mouth, but closes it quickly. There's nothing to say now, I
suppose. I sigh softly and try to write it off, I have four days to get
through to her after all. Four days to work out whatever's wrong in her mind.
Inside, I'm crumbling. I wanted her to understand. I didn't ask for her to be
happy just to understand.
We pull up to the estate, and Iria all but throws herself out of the
jeep. The Maguanacs are already hurrying down the hill, all forty grown,
fighting men acting like children when their daddy comes home. I'll never
know why they get such a kick out having a "Golden Child" to call their own,
but it makes the world seem a little more all right. Trowa's waiting, looking
like a little lost boy until I step out of the car. He smiles, and my pain is
eased. It's a reflex to reward it, walking up to him, I squeeze his hand and kiss
his cheek.
He doesn't say anything, just returns the kiss quickly and heads off in
the direction of our room. He makes the Maguanacs uncomfortable, they don't
know how to treat him. Trowa doesn't speak Arabic, and I decide to call him
wife during this trip, that should ease their discomfort. The wife of a
Golden Child they can accept and treat accordingly. They're almost here, and
Iria returns from the walk from retrieving her bag from the back.
She stands besides me, then pokes me with her elbow. "He's cute, Quatre."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Return to Sweet