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storypaint ([personal profile] storypaint) wrote2010-08-31 12:11 am

[Magic Knight Rayearth] you are my sunshine (Clef/Presea)

Title: you are my sunshine
Fandom: Magic Knight Rayearth
Length: 431 words
Prompt: here is the scene where you save the day for [livejournal.com profile] chibidl's birthdayfic
Pairing: Clef/Presea
Other: This is an AU where Clef and Presea grew up in an orphanage together and Presea is in a wheelchair and Clef is blind. Don't ask why, it's a long story.

Excerpt: He's never brushed his hands across her skin to memorize her face, because he's known it for as long as he can remember.

He's never brushed his hands across her skin to memorize her face, because he's known it for as long as he can remember. He knows the warmth of her lap as they careen around corridors, the joy of her laugh, the heart-thumping uncertainty of her kiss.

When she leaves the orphanage he feels like he's become blind all over again, groping around corners that he's navigated easily for years, bruising his shins on objects suddenly moved ("Sorry, Clef," they said, instead of warning him first, like Presea would). It isn't that he's forgotten everything but that he misses her, and that breaks his concentration over and over again. He still goes the long ways to cross wheelchair ramps and wider halls. Though he's never been exceptionally friendly with the other children, now he's closed in, silent, unwilling.

He's walking alone, lost in thoughts of escape, of freedom, because it isn't that the orphanage is an awful place, but that it's not a home, not really. It was his and Presea's favorite hobby, planning their lives outside. Now she graduated and left him here to plan alone, with a promise to come back. That was almost six months ago, and he hasn't heard anything from her since. The ache in his chest makes it difficult to care about those dreams anymore.

It can't be much of a surprise to trip in his distraction, and he hits something, hard, and it knocks the breath from him. He gasps, wanting to yell at the inconsiderate person who left something heavy in the front hall, for crying out loud, but he doesn't have the breath, and his response dies when he hears a familiar laugh.

"Is this payback for leaving?" Presea asks. "Or a reenactment of our first meeting? Because I think I ran into you back then, actually."

He doesn't need eyes to know that her arms are open, and he might not be eight years old anymore but he scrambles up into her embrace, pressing his head into her neck, just breathing her in. She hugs him back, almost too hard, like always. He reaches up to trace the curve of her jaw, the brightness of her smile, finally resting his hands on her cheeks and pressing their foreheads together. She's just how he remembers, happy and vibrant and alive, and he can't speak, overcome.

"Come home with me," she says, and he kisses her. There are papers to sign and new streets to navigate, but they don't matter right now.

"Let's go," he answers, and even though they're inside, he feels the warmth of the sun on his face.