All Things Considered 2
Posted: Tue Mar 09, 2004 5:23 pm
The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living.
-Cicero
The morning after the funeral was the worst morning Relena could recall for the longest time. Her drinking escapade had left her groggy and in pain. Her eyelashes were caked in a crusty residue that she attempted to rub off, but when that hurt too much, she resorted to a damp cloth, finally removing enough to open her eyes and focus on her surroundings. The bathroom was slightly dirty form the night before, much of which faded into a wine colored haze once she thought past dinnertime. Towels were strewn along the beige tile and the shower door was open. The entire room oddly reeked of aged vomit, and now that she thought about it, so did she.
Looking down at her black dress she realized she hadn?t changed into nightclothes the day before. The bottom half of her dress was wrinkled and sported a light multicolored stain. She began to remove the offending garment when she finally glimpsed herself in the mirror.
?Oh God,? she moaned in such a way it sounded more like a whine. Her eyes looked sunken and bloodshot. All in all, she looked like she had died. Her skin, pale as it already was, looked even more so. Her bun of hair that had been so neatly twisted the night before now barely hung off her head in a clump of hairspray and pins. She brought her right hand to her cheek and lightly touched her damp skin. This was not going to be a good day.
She turned on the shower, let the water run warm, and then started removing her hairpins. Once her hair was dismantled from its ball of chaos, she entered the shower, dress and all. Her dress, once it was soaked, clung to her body and weighed down on her shoulders. After Relena allowed herself a few moments of calm, she removed the dress and it fell to the shower floor with a dull plop. Grabbing a bottle of shampoo, she upended it above her head and allowed it to pour over her scalp. Once the slick substance leaked onto her forehead she stopped the flow and replaced the bottle.
Knowing she had applied too much shampoo, she began to lather. She used the excess to cleanse the rest of her body, figuring a monatomic smell was just as well. By the time she had returned to her hair, much of the soap had run out, so she renewed her efforts. Softly scrubbing her scalp, she entertained thoughts of her mother. Her mother had washed her hair for her when she was a small child, in a giant bathtub surrounded by light blue tile.
She could vaguely recall her mother?s hands when she was younger. Smooth, soft, gentle hands. Relena didn?t have those hands. Her hands were small and delicate, but they were never soft, always calloused by her writing utensils.
She didn?t know if it was the soap running into her eyes or her insistence to dwell in memory, but her eyes began to tear. She sat down on the shower floor and her tears didn?t recede until long after the shampoo had washed out form her hair.
***
Ever since the morning after her mother?s funeral, Relena had made it a point to never get drunk again. Quatre and Trowa also made it their duty to visit Relena at least once every two weeks, if not more often. The months passed by, and it was almost December by now. People began to forget about Relena?s mother, and when Relena dared to admit it to herself, she wanted to also.
November was the month for parties, and everyone was throwing them. Colleagues were throwing them for their daughters, granddaughters, or whatever female relation they could muster up. The young men were all far to smart to have one of those horrible affairs thrown in their honor.
And Relena was at present attending one of those horrible affairs. Senator Greenville was entertaining his colleagues while throwing one for his niece who happened to be a spoiled brat, and an idiot. Relena had tried to hold a conversation with the young woman for a few minutes, but ended it once she had said ?like? for the thirtieth time. Relena had quickly come to find that she had very few people to talk to, seeing as the majority of the party contained the friends of Greenville?s niece. Everyone else at the party was either an adult or a very small child that shouldn?t have been there in the first place.
Relena?s bright red dress fell to her ankles, expertly covering up her bare feet. She had long ago removed her heels from her feet. Even now they were rippling with pain where the straps had been. Currently she was standing against the wall trying to look as unimposing as possible so she could avoid dancing with anyone. And it seemed to be working.
That was until a certain blonde man lightly tapped her shoulder. She turned her head in half annoyance, but her mouth broke into a wide grin at the sight of the young man?s face.
?Quatre? What are you doing here?? she asked in surprise. Quatre had been away on business for the last few weeks and had said he wouldn?t be able to make it back for the next few days. He had made it clear that Trowa would check in on her, and Relena had reluctantly agreed.
?Would you like to dance?? he asked, smiling at her with that grin he knew would stun her into submission. He held out his hand in question.
?Well, I so suppose I?ll have to say yes,? Relena coyly replied. ?Since you asked so nicely and all.? She took his hand and he led her out onto the dance floor.
?That?s a very nice look for you Relena,? he coughed, nodding towards her bare feet. She just smiled back sheepishly. ?So why did you come alone? Trowa would have been happy to take you?? Quatre asked with concern in his voice. They had begun swirling about the floor, few people noticing them in the flurry of other dancers.
?Oh, let?s not bore the poor boy to death,? Relena chided. ?These things are really rather dull, even with a date, so I didn?t see the need to drag him along.?
?Really, Relena, it?s not as if he had anything better to do.? Relena quirked an eyebrow at this reply. Was Trowa just sitting around the house ready to pounce at her slightest call? Ignoring her expression Quatre carried on.
?So, how have you been??
?It?s been two weeks since you?ve seen me? honestly Quatre, not that much has changed.?
?You?ve just been so sad for so long, I don?t like to see you that way.? His body moved closer to hers. Even though Relena and Quatre and grown close over the years, she still found herself sexually uncomfortable around Quatre. He might have been gay, but he was still very much a man. Neither were the children that they had been during the war, and certainly Quatre had not been left behind on the wave of puberty. He had grown quite tall, and his features were very becoming for a man. He was in fact, all the rage among the young debutants, and many of them saw him as a prime catch.
Nevertheless he hugged her body to him, and she rested her head against his shoulder. She had never been more comfortable with a man than she had been with Quatre. He was so unassuming. His gestures did not suggest nights of passion or wedding bells. Relena knew that she would always respect him as her friend, and that he would always respect her. They were quite the pair, and she had always looked to him for comfort over the last few years.
She supposed it was probably their similarity in positions. Quatre owned a massive corporation and, more or less, his own colony. Relena, well she was still the Vice Foreign Minister, and even in these times of peace her work still called to her on occasion. She didn?t actually have to do anything often, but was invited to functions and meetings involving the treatment of the colonies. Sometimes she traveled, but had found she didn?t feel as inclined over the last few months.
As they continued to dance, the music slowed into another song. They had not spoken for a long while, but when Quatre finally did, he broke the silence with a question Relena had never thought to hear from anyone, and hardly from Quatre.
?Will you marry me??
This is the first part of the second part. I'll post the other part when I get it finished. I'm sorry if it took me too long. And thanks a lot to everyone who reviewed, you are better people than I. I really appreciate it!
-Cicero
The morning after the funeral was the worst morning Relena could recall for the longest time. Her drinking escapade had left her groggy and in pain. Her eyelashes were caked in a crusty residue that she attempted to rub off, but when that hurt too much, she resorted to a damp cloth, finally removing enough to open her eyes and focus on her surroundings. The bathroom was slightly dirty form the night before, much of which faded into a wine colored haze once she thought past dinnertime. Towels were strewn along the beige tile and the shower door was open. The entire room oddly reeked of aged vomit, and now that she thought about it, so did she.
Looking down at her black dress she realized she hadn?t changed into nightclothes the day before. The bottom half of her dress was wrinkled and sported a light multicolored stain. She began to remove the offending garment when she finally glimpsed herself in the mirror.
?Oh God,? she moaned in such a way it sounded more like a whine. Her eyes looked sunken and bloodshot. All in all, she looked like she had died. Her skin, pale as it already was, looked even more so. Her bun of hair that had been so neatly twisted the night before now barely hung off her head in a clump of hairspray and pins. She brought her right hand to her cheek and lightly touched her damp skin. This was not going to be a good day.
She turned on the shower, let the water run warm, and then started removing her hairpins. Once her hair was dismantled from its ball of chaos, she entered the shower, dress and all. Her dress, once it was soaked, clung to her body and weighed down on her shoulders. After Relena allowed herself a few moments of calm, she removed the dress and it fell to the shower floor with a dull plop. Grabbing a bottle of shampoo, she upended it above her head and allowed it to pour over her scalp. Once the slick substance leaked onto her forehead she stopped the flow and replaced the bottle.
Knowing she had applied too much shampoo, she began to lather. She used the excess to cleanse the rest of her body, figuring a monatomic smell was just as well. By the time she had returned to her hair, much of the soap had run out, so she renewed her efforts. Softly scrubbing her scalp, she entertained thoughts of her mother. Her mother had washed her hair for her when she was a small child, in a giant bathtub surrounded by light blue tile.
She could vaguely recall her mother?s hands when she was younger. Smooth, soft, gentle hands. Relena didn?t have those hands. Her hands were small and delicate, but they were never soft, always calloused by her writing utensils.
She didn?t know if it was the soap running into her eyes or her insistence to dwell in memory, but her eyes began to tear. She sat down on the shower floor and her tears didn?t recede until long after the shampoo had washed out form her hair.
***
Ever since the morning after her mother?s funeral, Relena had made it a point to never get drunk again. Quatre and Trowa also made it their duty to visit Relena at least once every two weeks, if not more often. The months passed by, and it was almost December by now. People began to forget about Relena?s mother, and when Relena dared to admit it to herself, she wanted to also.
November was the month for parties, and everyone was throwing them. Colleagues were throwing them for their daughters, granddaughters, or whatever female relation they could muster up. The young men were all far to smart to have one of those horrible affairs thrown in their honor.
And Relena was at present attending one of those horrible affairs. Senator Greenville was entertaining his colleagues while throwing one for his niece who happened to be a spoiled brat, and an idiot. Relena had tried to hold a conversation with the young woman for a few minutes, but ended it once she had said ?like? for the thirtieth time. Relena had quickly come to find that she had very few people to talk to, seeing as the majority of the party contained the friends of Greenville?s niece. Everyone else at the party was either an adult or a very small child that shouldn?t have been there in the first place.
Relena?s bright red dress fell to her ankles, expertly covering up her bare feet. She had long ago removed her heels from her feet. Even now they were rippling with pain where the straps had been. Currently she was standing against the wall trying to look as unimposing as possible so she could avoid dancing with anyone. And it seemed to be working.
That was until a certain blonde man lightly tapped her shoulder. She turned her head in half annoyance, but her mouth broke into a wide grin at the sight of the young man?s face.
?Quatre? What are you doing here?? she asked in surprise. Quatre had been away on business for the last few weeks and had said he wouldn?t be able to make it back for the next few days. He had made it clear that Trowa would check in on her, and Relena had reluctantly agreed.
?Would you like to dance?? he asked, smiling at her with that grin he knew would stun her into submission. He held out his hand in question.
?Well, I so suppose I?ll have to say yes,? Relena coyly replied. ?Since you asked so nicely and all.? She took his hand and he led her out onto the dance floor.
?That?s a very nice look for you Relena,? he coughed, nodding towards her bare feet. She just smiled back sheepishly. ?So why did you come alone? Trowa would have been happy to take you?? Quatre asked with concern in his voice. They had begun swirling about the floor, few people noticing them in the flurry of other dancers.
?Oh, let?s not bore the poor boy to death,? Relena chided. ?These things are really rather dull, even with a date, so I didn?t see the need to drag him along.?
?Really, Relena, it?s not as if he had anything better to do.? Relena quirked an eyebrow at this reply. Was Trowa just sitting around the house ready to pounce at her slightest call? Ignoring her expression Quatre carried on.
?So, how have you been??
?It?s been two weeks since you?ve seen me? honestly Quatre, not that much has changed.?
?You?ve just been so sad for so long, I don?t like to see you that way.? His body moved closer to hers. Even though Relena and Quatre and grown close over the years, she still found herself sexually uncomfortable around Quatre. He might have been gay, but he was still very much a man. Neither were the children that they had been during the war, and certainly Quatre had not been left behind on the wave of puberty. He had grown quite tall, and his features were very becoming for a man. He was in fact, all the rage among the young debutants, and many of them saw him as a prime catch.
Nevertheless he hugged her body to him, and she rested her head against his shoulder. She had never been more comfortable with a man than she had been with Quatre. He was so unassuming. His gestures did not suggest nights of passion or wedding bells. Relena knew that she would always respect him as her friend, and that he would always respect her. They were quite the pair, and she had always looked to him for comfort over the last few years.
She supposed it was probably their similarity in positions. Quatre owned a massive corporation and, more or less, his own colony. Relena, well she was still the Vice Foreign Minister, and even in these times of peace her work still called to her on occasion. She didn?t actually have to do anything often, but was invited to functions and meetings involving the treatment of the colonies. Sometimes she traveled, but had found she didn?t feel as inclined over the last few months.
As they continued to dance, the music slowed into another song. They had not spoken for a long while, but when Quatre finally did, he broke the silence with a question Relena had never thought to hear from anyone, and hardly from Quatre.
?Will you marry me??
This is the first part of the second part. I'll post the other part when I get it finished. I'm sorry if it took me too long. And thanks a lot to everyone who reviewed, you are better people than I. I really appreciate it!
