The first time I saw you, I didn’t fall in love with you.

I thought you were handsome, I thought you were brave, I thought you were a good fighter, I thought you were a dedicated soldier.

But I didn’t fall in love with you.

What I *did* feel, however... what I *did* feel...

...

What *did* I feel?

I suppose I felt admiration.

I suppose I even liked you.

Maybe more, maybe less. Maybe...

Maybe I still don’t know what I felt then.

What I *do* know is that now I love you.

I didn’t fall the first time, I didn’t fall the second time, and not even necessarily the third time. I don’t know when, but the fact is that eventually I *did* fall in love with you.

After the initial rush of amazement had faded, I reveled in the glow of my feelings.

Then I though, ‘Damn.’

Why you? Of all the people in the world, and the colonies even, why did I have to go and fall for another Gundam pilot? And an antisocial one, to boot. That was going to make things more difficult.

And not only did I have to compete with the mission, I found out that I had to go and compete with a girl too[1].

Maybe that was a sign that things just weren’t meant to be. Maybe most people would’ve given up on you, declared it as futile and moved on. But not me. It might have been a lost cause, except for one thing.

You liked me too.

Now all I have to do is to get you to decide that you love me too.

Sounds easy enough, right?

Right.

About as easy as OZ is to take down.

So now I have to resort to subtle hints and prodding to catch your attention.

I know that if I push you too fast you’ll bolt like a skittish gazelle. Then I’ll have to start all over again. I’m too impatient for that. So now we’re moving slowly.

Vee~erry slowly.

Did I mention that things are going slowly?

Perhaps the wait is getting to me. Perhaps its the war. Either way, I’m getting too close to just declaring my emotions for you. It could go two ways. You could kiss me and smile at me and tell me you love me too. Or I could waste more time trying to track you down after you leave me in a dustcloud.

I don’t want to do that.

So now I wait.

Make up your mind.

Otherwise I’ll have to make it up for you.

Fun as it will be, oh, it’ll be *so* much fun, I want you to be sure. I know that you haven’t had much experience with these emotions. Maybe I’m your first. It’s hard to tell. You’re always so careful in hiding your real feelings.

But not careful enough.

I know that you care for me. In time, I know that you’ll love me. Perhaps you already do and you’re just not aware.

I know that it seems that I don’t care about *your* feelings. I know that it seems that I’m just out to get what I want. It seems that I have a lot more in common with Relena than at first glance. It’s true in a way, I suppose. I *want* you.

But I also love you. Yes, I know. She also loves, but I feel that one thing seperates myself from her.

I *care* for you. And I feel that I understand you. I want to make things better for you. I know that I can. And that’s not just blind faith. We complement each other. Your weaknesses are supported by my strength, just as mine are by yours.

And it doesn’t hurt that we’ve always been partners.

That way we know each other in ways that others can’t.

I’m sure that subconsciously you know this. You know consciously that I love you. That’s what makes it even more frustrating when you shy away just when I think that we’re almost there. It makes me want to scream and throw a tantrum. Immature, yes, but a well-proven stress relief.

I want to, but I don’t. I can’t afford to in this war to be immature.

That drives in more strongly my need for you and makes me even more determined to persist.

If I kiss you now, will it make you too scared?

I want to. You have no idea just how much I want to.

Neither of us are ready for the last step, but I’m more than ready enough for the first.

But I’ll wait for you. I won’t wait forever, but I’ll wait for you. If it turns out that you won’t make the first move, then *I* will. I’d prefer not to, though. I have to make sure that *you* know that we’ll be entering this relationship as *partners*.

I love you for many things. I love you for nothing at all. I love you because of your quiet strength. And I want you to know that. That way, there will be no secrets between us to hinder our relationship.

The moment I see in your eyes acknowledgment of just what is between us, then I’ll...

Actually, I don’t know what I’ll do yet.

Maybe I’ll do as I said before and make the first move. Maybe I’ll wait for you to. I’ll decide when we get to that point. And we will. I can see it in your eyes.

It’s in the way they soften slightly whenever you look at me...

I like your eyes. Not just for their pure aesthetic beauty, but also because they scream out what your lips don’t. Others don’t see it, but I’ve become so aware of you that I can read what you’re feeling through your eyes.

Which is yet *another* reason the wait is infuriating for me. *I* know you care, but *you’re* not sure.

And so we wait. Or rather, *I* wait.

Bit by bit, I can see your resolve wavering. I can see your shields dropping. Closer, just a little closer...

I smile, and I’m gentle, and I go softly when I’m around you.

When I’m around all of the pilots, actually.

But I’m more open around you. It’s just something about you.

The pilots...

The perfect soldier, the joker, the clown, the innocent one, and the warrior...

Stereotypes. So who am I really?

I know that there’s more to all of us than what we appear....

I wait.

You’re more than what you seem, and I feel that even though I love you, I’ve barely scratched the surface of your secrets. When we’re together, I won’t push you, but I’ll help you. Maybe you’ll tell me then what it is that makes your exquisite eyes so sad then, ne?

And I’ll tell you my secrets. I wonder...

Will it surprise you that I have any at all?

You *know* me, more than anyone ever has, but will you still be amazed that even I can have scars within my soul? You know that I haven’t exactly had a perfect life, but still...

One hardly expects innocents to harbor secrets like mine.

And Quatre Raberba Winner is the innocent one, ne?

Go to the next part: Immortality
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