this is my first completed fic please be nice and merciful...please enjoy and comment...it will help me improve greatly...thank you and enjoydisclaimer: i do not own GW (the universe and its characters) nor Whiskey Lullaby. I'm just not that talented
and neither am i making a profit off this... I'm not that greedy neither warning: some angst and death (and really bad grammar)
La la la La la la
La la la La la la
Quatre is a well-traveled and well-known man. There aren?t many things he hasn?t done or hasn?t seen. But the sun lit mornings on earth captured his heart, so did the woman sleeping gently in his embrace. Illuminated by the sunrays, her peaceful face is that of an angel. No, even more exquisite than that. She is as beautiful as the goddess Aphrodite herself. Quatre smiles contentedly as he watches her stir slowly.
Catherine Bloom meticulously blinks open her eyelids to focus her surrounding. She knew that she had more drinks than she could possibly handle last night yet she feels strangely peaceful and rested. Warm. She thought, just seconds before a blond head comes into her vision. At once, all her tranquility dissolves.
- Why in hell am I here? What have I done?
- Cathy, listens to me
- Don?t you dare call me Cathy, Quatre Winner! If I?ve hated you for what you?ve done to Trowa, I hate you more now for whatever that had happened.
- Catherine, please?
But before he could utter another word, Catherine was able to wrap a long towel around herself. Fortunately for her, no one witnessed her leaving. Unfortunately for Quatre, Catherine never saw the plead in his eyes.
She put him out
Like the burning end of a midnight cigarette
She broke his heart
He spends his whole life trying to forget
We watch him drinks his life away
A little at a time
But he could never get drunk enough
To get her off his mind.
His shuttle back to L4 was scheduled to leave in less than an hour but Quatre couldn?t stand the thought of being without her after last night. After all, he could always reschedule.
He absent-mindedly pulls on a pair of black Dockers and a red polo shirt before heading out to Catherine?s room. But Quatre was stop short by his senior advisor:
- Mr. Winner, I?m afraid we had to reschedule for you to leave in the next fifteen minutes. There has been a breach into our system and someone has been deleting our stock figures.
Always the prominent and dutiful businessman, Quatre turn his heels back the other way.
Quatre flops violently onto the hotel?s bed. It?s been three months since he has been here on earth---three dreaded months buried beneath mountains of proposals and reports, three months spent listening to pointless nagging of stale old men (each inhumanly suffocating had it not been for the flask of whiskey that keeps his mind numb)---three sleepless months without Catherine Bloom.
Until the night he put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger
He finally drank away her memory
As obligation had dictated, the head of Winner Corp is back on Earth for the anniversary of a partner company---unwilling but ready with his smile and flask of whiskey.
Catherine watches from the corner of the room as Quatre mingles with the other guests: absolutely diplomatic, absolutely charming, absolutely desirable---absolutely not hers. Mr. Winner, with the look to kill and the wealth to please, was the number one most eligible bachelor of both the colonies and Earth. For three months, her thoughts were constantly on his gentle voice and her body constantly missing his warmth. Quatre Winner is no longer three hundred thousand miles away but distanced by a band of beautiful women.
She gulps down the rest of her glass and reach out for another one. These are delicious, she thought, just like his lips. Catherine shudders at her thought. Three months, did he once miss her? To hell with reasons, three months is a long enough time to wait for an answer. Catherine inches her way through the crowd, unawares of a figure approaching her.
- Miss Bloom, may I have the next dance?
Looking up, she sees the son of the CEO of the company Trowa is currently dealing with. He had trusted her to be a graceful hostess so Catherine smiles and held out her hand to be spun onto the dance floor.
Life is short, but this time
It was bigger than the strength he has to get up off his knees
Quatre staggers back into his room long before the party was over. People would ask where he was in the morning but it was better than them asking how the number of glasses he had to drink tonight.
Everyone has an inner demon. His is alcohol. No. It was love.
People said that those things could blind a person?s eyes but he could see her so clearly--- every golden lock of her hair, every twinkle in her eyes, every curve of her petite frame. He could see her so clearly, just like three months ago. He reaches out, wanting to hold her, but he couldn?t turn back time.
He couldn?t turn back time- Quatre chuckles bitter- no, but he knows how to stop it. Walking to where he placed his suitcase earlier, Quatre reach for the object he keeps next to his flask of whiskey.
?Mr. Winner?? Quatre?s secretary knocks again in frustration. She turns his doorknob when he didn?t answer and found it unlock.
They found him with his face in the pillow
With a note that says
?I?ll love her until I die.?
And when they buried him beneath the willow
The angels sang a whiskey lullaby
Lalala lalala lalala lalala
Quatre Winner was put to rest in the Winner?s family cemetery. People came to pay their respects by thousands--- people who owned him, people who respected him, and people who worked with him. One whom he loved.
- Heero, would you die for me?
- ? If you let me do my job, Madame Vice Minister, neither of us will have to anytime soon.?
The rumors flew
But nobody knows how much she blames herself
For years and years she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath
She finally drank her pain away, a little at a time
But she could never get drunk enough to get him off her mind
Till the night
She put the bottle to her head and pulled the trigger
She finally drank away his memory
The death of Quatre Rebaera Winner, head of the Winner Corp, was big news. The death of Quatre Rebaera Winner, the most eligible bachelor of both the colonies and Earth, was juicier gossip. Every teen magazine, every tabloids, even among his employees, stories were created and modified. Some said that he was always in love with his fellow pilot Trowa Barton and was heart-broken when the latter married Midii Une. Other thought that the heiress Dorothy Cattholonia assassinated him and left that note. Some fancied that Quatre felt in love with a vamp but was unable to be with her because of social status. For a while after his death, people were entertained.
Life is short but this time it was bitter
Than the strength she has to get up off her knees.
With the death of Winner Quatre, Catherine Bloom buried her heart She dedicated all her time to training new acrobats and knife-throwers for the circus. Everyday, she spends more and more time with her work. Everyday, she becomes more and more irritable and reckless. She expects perfect practices from the trainees and demands that they practice with the perfect target: herself.
- Linda, you want to amaze people. Not bored them.
- You want the act as real as possible. That means more knives and sharper throws. Get over your princess act and call me when you?re really ready.
When the new girl started crying, Catherine only got angrier.
- Good. Hate me. That way you?ll want to kill me and aim at my heart. That?s a true show.
With that she stormed off to her own room. Just like she had a year ago.
Trowa and his wife were worried with Catherine?s well being. They wanted to surprise her with their new baby. They knew that Catherine loves children and did not want anyone to spoil this pleasant visit for her. They made the ringmaster and everyone promise that they she won?t know until they step into her tent. She surprised them.
They found her with her face down in the pillow
Clinging onto his picture for dear life
We lay her next to him beneath the willow
While the angel sang a whiskey lullaby
Iria Winner agreed that Quatre and Catherine should be buried next to each other. Only her closest friends and family were there.
- Heero, I would die for you
- No you won?t, because I will not wait until it?s too late to say ?I love you.?
Lalala Lalala lalala
