What the hell, a FxF One-Shot. It's not my favorite pairing, but hey, I kinda like it, so here it is! (Sorry for anyone who is disgusted by mushy-ness.)
: Complementary Colors :
She observes him from afar, always with a distanced between them, always, always, because like that, she feels maybe, maybe just a little bit safer. And she notes that he is quite handsome. She blushes faintly and quickly looks away and she hopes, prays that please, please he didn't catch her staring.
He can feel her staring, staring, staring at him and he thinks it's weird. So he turns around to find that she averts her gaze quickly elsewhere, which he finds odd. And he's maybe, maybe just a little bit disappointed.
She runs home, and she hastily unlocks the door, enters and leans panting against the wooden surface. A false, false sense of security overcomes her, because no one can ever, ever, ever be safe. She locks the door again and she rushes to the stairs, grasps the stair-rail almost, almost desperately before ascending carefully, so she won't trip. Upon stepping into her room, she immediately falls exhausted from her little run on her bed and she allows her mind to wander. And it always, always returns to the exact same certain someone.
He is chatting with Cuddles about random things, when his friend proposes "I thought we could go camping this weekend. How does it sound? You want to come?" He hesitatingly accepts and he's happy, happy, so happy, because it's been a long time since someone last invited him. "Hey, maybe she wants to join too?" And only one girl can be meant. He is surprised to find out on the following weekend that he is a little nervous to go because she'll be there and his heart beats faster.
He'snice, she thinks. Very nice, actually. He's also careful and he makes her laugh without being ridiculous and he tells interesting stories and he's caring. So many, many good qualities and compared to him, she feels so boring and uninteresting and so damn insignificant, it hurts. And she feels weak. He's endured so much pain, always pain and yet it is her who always overreacts at every little thing. He is such a great person. Most of the time.
Because when his eyes turn yellow, yellow-green, she wishes, wishes, hopes to have never met him.
She's shy, so, so, so freaking shy and timid and always so overcautious, it's a surprise that she is befriends him every day all over again, he thinks. Right now, she smiles up at him and it's such a pretty sight. He's never met a girl like her before. She is so insecure, caring and loving. She's always the one to remember his birthday, to cheer him up when he needs it. And suddenly, the light bulb over their heads explodes and shards of glass rain down on them.
He can see it, the blood flowing like a river past him, the soldiers with their knives and their guns, and they want to kill him, but no, oh no, they won't get him, won't get him. He won't die. And so he falls asleep. "Right decision, right decision, we need to destroy them, need to!" a voice whispers.
It is always a sort of relief. And he's got so much time to think about things and his thoughts always return to her.
And when he wakes up, she is dead and everything, everything is his fault.
They are complementary colors, she realizes as he kills her. He is green, and she's always red. Everything about her, even her face. It is blood that dyes her face that crimson color, but now it doesn't flow through her veins underneath her skin, but it is smeared across her face. The most painful thing about that is, and she almost laughs at this, that the last thing she sees are his green eyes and her red blood.