A/N: Hello, Hwesta here with almost-drabbles that she wanted to put out into the world. This 'story' is just a collection of oneshots and drabbles, to be published in intermittently.
And now, the first half of "Perfect," a two-shot.
She looks at me, and I look at him, and for a moment, we're perfect.
In a moment there will be reporters and flashes, questions and crowds and too many people to manage, but now, in the peace of the hall, I can take her hand, and clasp his shoulder, and watch as they hold hands as well, and we become a circle of calm that has withstood the test of time and the pressure of death.
Behind is the shadow of the past. Death lingers in nightmares and dreams, and names that bear only grief in remembrance. Behind is danger, and fear, and anxiety, and pain – things that will exist in the future, but not as strong as they were. Never as strong.
Because now there is a future. Now, I see red hair and freckled noses and feminine hands and the promise of children, where before I saw only death and the slightest pinprick of light in the doubtful hope of a dawn. Now, I see my two closest friends embrace with confident movements and absolute trust, where before I saw tension and nervousness and desperation. I remember those few moments before I died, and my calm in the face of red eyes and a brown wand, and there is no comparison. Because then there was no hope. But now it fills the room like a glorious sunrise, this feeling, this joy, this perfection.
For a moment longer we stand next to each other, and then as one we turn to the door, ready to face whatever comes. There is nothing they can throw at us that we cannot weather, because together, we are strong. Undefeated.
Perfect.