Author: Trilies
Genre: Romance, Friendship
Word length: 333
Sypnosis: Even in another life with different memories, they recognize each other, and feelings don't change despite what time might want.
Yaoi/Yuri/Pairings: Roxas/Xion(/Axel in 2nd)
Notes: I just wanted to screw around with imagery, since I was in that kind of mood.
Returning Time: Filtered Sunlight
In a subway car, crowded with every kind of person imaginable, from blue-collar joes to the homeless to mothers with children clustering about their legs, they meet:
A girl with hair as dark as the hidden side of the moon.
A boy with sunshine embedded in his spiky strands.
They're ghosts among ghosts, drifting in a dead dream. For a moment, they don't notice one another. Their minds are focused on their daily routines, school, family; all just somnium hazes to parts of their hearts. Then dual iris sets of the same setting sky blue meet past blurs of cloth and skin...
Twin suns bursts behind their ribs and inside their hearts.
They shove past students and China Town goers, brief cases banging into their hips and legs while backpacks scrape against their arms, before their hands clasp together. Their fingers are callused and rough from all the same things, like skateboard falls and the tumbles of children (<i>or holding the hilts of swords and keys and destiny</i> wink . Wanting to laugh in euphoric relief, happiness, they cry instead, holding onto each other like the world has ended. She fumbles for a hold on his white button-up; he wraps his arms around her waist from where a black skirt flows. He whispers the name of a flower that only wished to be remembered, to which she replies with the name of a sky that was hidden by plaster.
They cry.
They laugh.
They do no know why.
They do no recall a life before.
They do no remember fighting for cause built on lies.
They do not remember wearing coats the color of molten tar.
They only remember sunsets and ice cream and another and...
Love.
The subway car stops. It empties of people. Except them. Them, who kneel on a flor of paper, dirt, and discard. Them, who hold hands. Them, who kiss for the first time.
It feels as gentle as soft ways, as a spring sun.
In a subway car, they meet; a reunion akin to filtered sunlight, gentle yet blinding, heralding a new day...
A new start.
