For Granted
Author's notes: A one-shot on Sands/Ajedrez which I think is one of the best pairings in the world after El/Sands. Written when I was actually supposed to be writing the plotline of a completely different story. My minder was not pleased.
The leather is soft on his skin. He can feel the contours of his stolen gun and the familiar weight of the fake black clothed arm on his shoulder. He hears the footsteps through the road, her voice loaded heavily with sarcasm.
"See anything you like?" The gun is cold under his chin and her breath, warm on his lips. I'm sorry. His finger curves around the trigger and he pulls it. He hears her gasp and is somehow glad that he cannot see her face, her eyes. He retorts bitterly to distract himself from his memory of her face.
"No." He wants to say more, but he bites back the words, biting his tongue, feeling the sharp pain. He hears her fall and turns his face upwards, almost expecting to see the habitual blue he had taken for granted. He lets the pain in his knees take over and falls, reaching out a hand as he hits the ground, wanting to touch her. It falls short and he turns over, her face vivid in his mind, waiting for the tears that had meant nothing to him before Ajedrez.