Aiee. I swear, I'll wrote something more than 500 words eventually. I just seem to be going through a drabble phase lately.
Anyway. Have another weird little KH rambling. I'm good at those. Inspired by Rain Shadow, by the amazing Nitlon.
Sora was like the sun. He was too bright, staring at him too long made spots dance in front of your eyes, and everything else was too dark when you looked away. That was how Riku had always seen him; too bright, too hot. But still, he was always staring, until his eyes stung and his chest throbbed and everything else was darkness.
Riku was the moon. On a clear night, he could see the points of light around him, bright, happy people, their light almost cold to him. But some nights it was cloudy, and he saw nothing but endless darkness at his feet.
Sometimes he caught glimpses of Sora, and he wasn't the sun at all, but a monkey, climbing trees, his long, monkey-fingers outstretched as though he could reach if he only wished hard enough; swimming through inky blackness towards Riku's pale reflection, huffing and straining and almost swallowed up. Why wish for the moon, Sora? He thought with a waterlogged heart that didn't seem to want to beat right. It's really not that wonderful, it's only a reflection of the sun's light. Had he always been a reflection of him? Had Sora always been the thing that made him so good? Pointless, now. The sun and the moon would never meet, and Sora's gangly, bony monkey arms would never be long enough to pull him down from his lofty, dark-enshrouded perch.
Then Riku turned a corner, into the dawn and came face-to-face with a sun that was just a little less bright. He was no less beautiful, no less his happy, determined, Sora-self. It was simply that he had shadows now, areas of darkness that hadn't been there before, making him deeper and somehow more real. Riku could stare at him without squinting now, and even if Sora's gangly, bony monkey arms weren't quite long enough to reach him, it wasn't all that hard for him to stretch out his arm and close the distance, close his fingers around something real and warm, and not as burning-bright-hot-too-much as he had thought. And then there was no more darkness, only light and shadows.