Why I Bother
Thyme

I'm not sure why I even bother anymore.

This crown is so heavy on my head, and the pink dress I wear is thick and confining. The heavy material itches against my skin. Dorothy often whispers to me how beautiful I look; she tells me how soft my hair feels between her fingers and how bright my eyes are. Sometimes I like to think she means it. I always tell her, politely, Thank you.

Sometimes I like to think I mean it.

I have another speech scheduled today. I'm waiting in my room, sitting in front of my mirror. The pink folds of my skirt reach the floor and the tips of my shoes peek from underneath. Everything I wear is always pink. Why? I'm not sure I even like it anymore. Dorothy didn't used to. Lately, though, she seems to have changed her mind.

Pink is the color of diluted blood, she says.

She's standing by the door, in that black dress she always likes to wear. I have to say it suits her. It fits her very well, offsetting pale skin and white-blond hair. She's very beautiful. She's looking at me but I try not to meet her eyes. They make me feel cold, and the spot between my shoulder blades starts to itch. I feel like she can read my mind. Her eyes are strange.

I don't want to be here anymore. I hate sitting around in these pretty lace dresses saying other people's words. I don't want to be anyone's doll anymore. I hate this.

Dorothy walks to me, taking a strand of my hair and rubbing it between her fingers like she always does. She leans forward and coos into my ear, "Relena-sama, you really should put this up. It would look nicer."

I shake my hair away from her hands because I feel dirty when she does that. I suppose, though, that I will put my hair up like she says. Dolls are meant for others' entertainment, after all. I shan't disappoint them.... I reach for the brush to rip the tangles away when her soft hands stop me.

"Relena," she whispers to me, pushing through my hair with her fingers again, "may I?"

I wordlessly hand the brush to her. She begins running it through the fine strands, and I close my eyes, trying to will away the feel of it. God, she makes me feel strange. No, I am strange. I am strange...I am strange for feeling like this around another girl.

Heero, what is it I feel for you, then? It doesn't feel the same as what I want with Dorothy. With you it's like...it's like you're my very best friend. I feel safe and so warm. Is that friendship, then? Do I think of you more as a brother than a lover?

I've seen you before with that other boy, that pilot, Duo. Do you love him the way I think I love Dorothy? Do you think of my as your very dearest sister? I'm not sure. Dorothy has given up on the brush and begins rubbing my hair between her fingers again.

"Your hair is very beautiful," she says, and she brings up a piece to her mouth to kiss it. I look at her in the mirror; her reflection burns in my eyes. Is it normal to feel this way?

I'm shaken from my thoughts when she runs her other hand over my right shoulder and down my arm, reaching my hand and rubbing over the knuckles with her thumb. There's that strange feeling again....

"Relena-sama," she sighs into my hair, "do you know how soft you are?"

I shake my head. "I don't think about it," I say, honestly. In the mirror, Dorothy's cold hard eyes seem to sparkle.

"Then let me show you," she whispers, and then removes the crown from my head. She touches my hair again but this somehow it doesn't feel as dirty. My breath hitches when she takes my hand into hers, moving it for me until I'm touching the side of my face under her supervision. She rubs my hand back and forth very slowly.

"Do you feel that?" Dorothy asks softly. "You feel so soft and innocent and naive." She pauses, catching my eyes in the mirror.... And then her pale lips pull into a smile. Now her eyes are really sparkling. "It's one of your best qualities, don't you think?"

"No," I say, and pull my hand from hers. She doesn't seem phased at all, however; only stares at me steadily with those strange eyes.

I don't pull away when she grabs my hand again. This time, though, she leans forward and rubs it against HER face. She whispers to me, "Can you feel the difference, Relena-sama? My skin is colder than yours. It has lost all its compassion...it's not as soft as yours, anymore." Her hand lets go of mine, but I'm still touching her face. I turn around for the first time since she's come into the room and start tracing her lines of her cold face with my fingertips. She's still smiling....

I don't know why, but I hear myself faintly saying, "I like the way you feel."

I think I mean it.

Her hands are suddenly touching my shoulders again, both of them, but I don't feel dirty at all. She murmurs something to me but I don't quite catch it. I bravely push through her hair with my other hand as she leans in closer, pressing a kiss against my neck while dragging her nails over my skin. I shiver. It hurts, but it almost feels good.... I catch a brief glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair is a wreck.

I don't think I care.

My crown is on the ground somewhere nearby, discarded as she starts slipping the pink dress down and over my shoulders to kiss other areas of my body. I'm still shivering, and I surprise myself by sighing and kissing her cold skin in return.

I really try not to think about it when I see the bundle of pink and black clothes in a pile in the corner. I feel dazed, warm and happy, but there's this nagging at the back of my head.

God will never forgive me.

Am I so fickle to think myself in love with a man while doing such a thing with another woman? Besides, it's forbidden. But...I enjoy it, the way her hands slide over her skin and I like the way her voice sounds as she murmurs to me how soft it is. I blush and tell her, "No, it isn't, not really; I like yours better, anyway."

I like it when her eyes aren't as hard when she looks at me. Her smile, her real one, is beautiful. I whimper her name before collapsing against her. I'm warm, content, and only slightly coherent....

I don't regret it.

She's helping me back into my dress now. The material isn't so hot or scratchy anymore, and I think I can see more of my shoes when I look down at them. She dresses herself now, so I sit at the mirror again and wait for her to finish. When she does, she comes over and picks up the brush again and rips the tangles out of my sweaty hair. In the mirror, I can see myself smiling a little.

I hope Heero is as happy with Duo.

She finishes with my hair, putting it up in a pretty braid wrapped neatly into a bun. She stoops and retrieves the fallen crown before replacing it on my head, and it doesn't feel so heavy anymore. I get up and walk to the door. Dorothy opens it for me, and before we go out I feel her lips against my ear when she whispers, "You really are beautiful today, Relena-sama."

I smile. She means it.

"Thank you," I say, and I mean it, too. We walk down the hallway holding hands until we meet Ms. Noin for my speech.

This must be why I bother.