[FIC] Idyllic
Rating: Gen
Fandom: Reborn!
Prompt: khrfest Round 4. Reborn/Luce - lie; "It was only a kiss."
Warning: ....this kind of thing really isn't my turf, so.
Summary: There was just something so beautiful about them together.
Their end is tomorrow. Reborn knows this almost as well as Luce does; perhaps even better. He does not know how he had come to know this, but he does all the same, and it changes nothing. He still looms over her, stands as a shadow behind her, like a stern watcher, a protective guardian. However, his presence is nothing more than an addition that had been absent years past.
It is an odd sense of return, for both of them. The last time they were like this it was evening, and the moon was as bright as it was beautiful and only as it was foreboding. It crept upon them its silver linings as Luce reclined on her chair. She spoke of promises, of duty and of destiny. Her soft, pale hand laid protectively and powerfully on the swell of her tummy. It was then that Reborn told her he would believe in her.
It was the closest to a confession between them.
Later, he laid his own hand against her back as she climbed the stairs. She had not been helpless, she never was, but she was mercilessly clumsy with the baby inside her, kicking and full of promises and futures Reborn could not give her. He would have liked to hold her hand in his strong grip, though he would never admit to it. Instead, it is Luce, always she, for some reason, who claimed initiative. She leaned to him closely, and he let her. She looked up, her smiling lips grazing the air near his, and he raised a perfectly arched brow.
She smiled, he did not, and they never spoke of it again.
They never had to, for the next day came, and they were sacrificed on an altar with the pretense of hope's colors. Reborn would have laughed, but he had left, so quickly and so soon, almost faster than she did, and it is only years later, when a baby had grown into a beautiful young girl, the deadly hitman a spartan tutor, the brilliant boss lady a ghost of what once was, that their gazes met again.
It is by chance, a clever little thing of fate, and she smiles, and he still does not. But he walks with her, and he lets her talk. He lets her lead him away, lets her smile and laugh and dwell on where inevitability lied and what could not be. Reborn offers nothing, only briefly leaning closer as though to give what he did not, once upon a time, but she has no more futures to spend, and Luce only tilts her head to the side, the smile of her eyes wider than that of her pale pink lips.
He does not continue, but they both understand.
They are beautiful like this, together: Luce reclining on the rocking chair overlooking the front porch of their little lodge, Reborn ever vigilantly behind her by just shy of a step, more like he is beside her. Two infants dressed so strangely, fitting together so very strangely, it is indeed strange, and yet it is most picturesque, in the most inane way possible. It's natural, so breathtaking, the way Reborn does not touch her, though his fingertips do ghost over her shoulder, and it is Luce's hand -- so dainty and soft and yet so powerful -- which holds his in her tender infant grip.
Their end is tomorrow, and it will be something special the way it is both joyful and sad. There may be a day, later on, when someone will ask -- maybe Tsuna or Aria or Dino, maybe even Uni or else some faceless stranger -- what it was between them, what they were and if it mattered. Reborn will shrug, Luce would have smiled, and they both would have said "It was only a kiss."
Only, they never did.
It was something more.
FIN.
Fandom: Reborn!
Prompt: khrfest Round 4. Reborn/Luce - lie; "It was only a kiss."
Warning: ....this kind of thing really isn't my turf, so.
Summary: There was just something so beautiful about them together.
Their end is tomorrow. Reborn knows this almost as well as Luce does; perhaps even better. He does not know how he had come to know this, but he does all the same, and it changes nothing. He still looms over her, stands as a shadow behind her, like a stern watcher, a protective guardian. However, his presence is nothing more than an addition that had been absent years past.
It is an odd sense of return, for both of them. The last time they were like this it was evening, and the moon was as bright as it was beautiful and only as it was foreboding. It crept upon them its silver linings as Luce reclined on her chair. She spoke of promises, of duty and of destiny. Her soft, pale hand laid protectively and powerfully on the swell of her tummy. It was then that Reborn told her he would believe in her.
It was the closest to a confession between them.
Later, he laid his own hand against her back as she climbed the stairs. She had not been helpless, she never was, but she was mercilessly clumsy with the baby inside her, kicking and full of promises and futures Reborn could not give her. He would have liked to hold her hand in his strong grip, though he would never admit to it. Instead, it is Luce, always she, for some reason, who claimed initiative. She leaned to him closely, and he let her. She looked up, her smiling lips grazing the air near his, and he raised a perfectly arched brow.
She smiled, he did not, and they never spoke of it again.
They never had to, for the next day came, and they were sacrificed on an altar with the pretense of hope's colors. Reborn would have laughed, but he had left, so quickly and so soon, almost faster than she did, and it is only years later, when a baby had grown into a beautiful young girl, the deadly hitman a spartan tutor, the brilliant boss lady a ghost of what once was, that their gazes met again.
It is by chance, a clever little thing of fate, and she smiles, and he still does not. But he walks with her, and he lets her talk. He lets her lead him away, lets her smile and laugh and dwell on where inevitability lied and what could not be. Reborn offers nothing, only briefly leaning closer as though to give what he did not, once upon a time, but she has no more futures to spend, and Luce only tilts her head to the side, the smile of her eyes wider than that of her pale pink lips.
He does not continue, but they both understand.
They are beautiful like this, together: Luce reclining on the rocking chair overlooking the front porch of their little lodge, Reborn ever vigilantly behind her by just shy of a step, more like he is beside her. Two infants dressed so strangely, fitting together so very strangely, it is indeed strange, and yet it is most picturesque, in the most inane way possible. It's natural, so breathtaking, the way Reborn does not touch her, though his fingertips do ghost over her shoulder, and it is Luce's hand -- so dainty and soft and yet so powerful -- which holds his in her tender infant grip.
Their end is tomorrow, and it will be something special the way it is both joyful and sad. There may be a day, later on, when someone will ask -- maybe Tsuna or Aria or Dino, maybe even Uni or else some faceless stranger -- what it was between them, what they were and if it mattered. Reborn will shrug, Luce would have smiled, and they both would have said "It was only a kiss."
Only, they never did.
It was something more.
FIN.