We were arguing again.

It'd been happening all too often since the end of the war.

We were two headstrong, willful and stubborn boys trying to figure out how to live the life of normal, peaceful citizens. Trying to figure out how to put our terrorist days behind us.

It was no longer the easy life, however laughable it was. I remember the days when we would just return, battered and tired from a mission just to fall asleep in each other's arms. A haven that meant safety for both of us in those times that we were fortunate enough to be placed together.

I love you.

How many times I had said those words to you during the war. Even though you never said them back, I knew... I knew with every fibre of my being that you returned my love. But I was just beginning to figure out that love alone is not enough.

We always argued about stupid things like leaving wet towels on the bathroom floor, or tracking mud into the apartment. Then the argument would escalate until neither of us knew what we were growling at each other about until finally one of us would storm out for some quiet time alone. Neither of us usually came home until well after midnight, and the other would always be waiting on the living room couch. Then the argument would start up again about why the one that had stormed out was gone so long until we were both so tired that one would just stalk into the bedroom and slam the door, leaving the other to sleep on the couch. A few days later one of us would get up the courage to apologize to the other and all would be forgiven until the whole vicious cycle started again a few days or weeks later.

It's almost laughable how I have the whole thing down to a science. Almost laughable... if it hadn't been how much it broke me.

I wanted it to end, I really did. I wanted to break the cycle so badly. I wanted things to go back like they were before, when nothing but each other mattered. I wanted... I wanted so many things that just weren't possible now.

Maybe we just weren't meant to be together afterall. Maybe this is just God's way of warning me to get away before Shinigami came again to make good on the Maxwell curse. Maybe our feelings for each other weren't as strong as I'd thought them to be.

So I ran today. After I stormed out of our apartment, I'd made for the nearest spaceport, hacking myself a flight using one of my obscure bank accounts acquired during the war and ran from the situation. I'd made sure to use one of the accounts Heero didn't know about and a completely different name to the few I usually went by during the war.

I needed time... to figure things out. To figure out if love was worth all the pain and all the hurt that I knew we'd both endured from each other time and again.

And so now I stood, shivering in my drenched clothes, having walked here all the way from the airport in the pouring rain, waiting for the door to open.

Soon enough the door was pulled open and I looked miserably at the person on the other side of the threshold.

"Duo?!"

I nodded, averting my eyes.

"Oh God, Duo. You must be freezing, come in quickly! What happened? Did you two fight again?"

I kept silent as I was pulled into the house and a warm embrace, allowing me to bury my face into the almost-burning shoulder in comparison to my thoroughly chilled self. Forever grateful, I wrap my arms around the warm body, so numb from the cold that I forgot I was drenched, and returned the warm hug with a pathetic duplicate. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't just barge in on you like this..."

Comforting hands soothed the back of my head. "It's okay, it'll be okay. Let's get you dry and warmed up."

Sunlight woke me from my sleep as I groggily righted myself from my uncomfortable position on the couch. Glaring at the bright beams streaming in through the window, memories of last night returned to me in stages.

We'd had another argument, and he'd stormed out. I couldn't even remember what we'd been arguing about anymore -- that point had somehow, as it always did, gotten lost among the heated words we'd exchanged last night. And by the looks of things, he hadn't bothered to come home last night.

Hn, served the baka right.

A little voice piped up guiltily in the back of my head but I ruthlessly squashed it down before the thought could fully take form. In a way, I was kind of glad he hadn't come home because it would have surely led to another exchange of words before he would probably slam into the bedroom and leave me on the couch.

Standing and stretching, I winced as I heard the vertebrae pop back into their rightful places. Quickly I got dressed for work and left the apartment. The baka would probably wait for me to leave before coming back and changing for work, braving Une's abrasive words about the importance of being punctual.

It was a good thing Quatre, Trowa and Wufei were all on a much-deserved break. I wouldn't have to endure their questions about why Duo and I arrived at work separately again.