Happiness
The stars glimmered. The moon was barely there, but he liked the half-light all the same.
Liked the way it kissed her skin, her hair and those eyes.
Happiness.
Those eyes.
For a moment, he couldn't tear his gaze from the green orbs. But then he did, reassured that he would always be able to look into them again, that they would always be there, for him.
Happiness.
They barely touched. Their shoulders only just brushed, their fingers hardly intertwined, but it was close, it was enough. Just a little bit. Just to be sure.
This was real, this was now, this was forever.
Happiness.
Forever wasn't a scary word anymore. It was a promise. Oh, but he didn't care. Didn't care for future or past, didn't care for plans and duties. Not now, not here.
This was something entirely else.
Happiness.
He couldn't help himself; he looked at her again. This time she met his gaze, and she smiled, a half-smile, barely there, but it said it all. He responded in the same silent way, confident that she could read the truth from his eyes, his unmasked eyes, like he did hers.
Happiness.
Starfire edged a bit closer to Robin. She stroked his fingers with her own, gently, lightly, hardly even a touch. Just enough.
Happiness.
A feeling barely there, frail and new and wonderful. Fluttering through his body like a newborn butterfly, easily shattered, but flying nonetheless.
Happiness.
She looked at the stars again, and they reflected in her eyes, tiny dots of light on an endless sky.
Happiness.
Yes, he was quite sure that was the word.