Wheeeeee! Yeah for (no longer) songfic-ness! Yeah for my mom's new CD! Yeah for my little thieving fingers that stole the new CD when her back was turned!

Bakura: Oh, brother.

Pegasus: What's this? A story about me?

Uh-huh.

Pegasus: And I'm not evil, fruity, or gay?

Nuh-uh.

Pegasus: sniff I feel so loved.

You should! glomp How can you not love this guy? pulls on a t-shirt that says "Pegasus Fangirl And Damn Proud Of It"

Bakura: groan Need…aspirin…insane…fangirl…migraine…

Attention! This chapter is blamed on…I mean, dedicated to…Wingleader Sora Jade! starry eyes The best fanfiction writer ever! And a fellow Pegasus fangirl. bows I am not worthy to exist on the same website as you.

Shameless plug: Go read her stories! She rocks!

Japanese

Owari: End

French

Ma petite histoire: My little tale

Adieu: Farewell

Disclaimer: Painter Song belongs to Norah Jones. I own nothing. I don't even own a good part in my theater class's musical. sniffle I didn't want a big part, but it would be nice to be on more than ONE PAGE! sob sob

"If I were a painter

I would paint my reverie

If that's the only way for you to be with me

We'd be there together

Just like we used to be

Underneath the swirling skies for all to see

And I'm dreaming of a place

Where I could see your face

And I think my brush would take me there

But only…

If I were a painter

And could paint a memory"

Painter Song, by Norah Jones (IT'S A QUOTE! HAH, TAKE THAT!)

1-2-3-G-O-

Painter Song

Early summer sunlight poured in through the open window, casting a square of gold on the floor of the room, empty except for an easel and a few boxes of paint supplies lying neglected on the floor nearby.

A tall thin man stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame and staring longingly at the blank canvas. It had been a long time since the room had been occupied, and longer still since someone had sat at the easel and held a brush.

He shook his head sadly, sending his silver hair cascading around his shoulders as he turned to leave the room that held so many memories for him, memories that were better left forgotten. He froze, staring intently at the area of the floor were the sun cast its golden light. He could almost see her, a beautiful young woman with golden hair flowing down her back, giggling madly and clutching a bouquet of flowers in her lap as she posed for the young man seated on a stool in front of the canvas, smiling back at her with love in his eyes.

"Like this, Max?"

"Perfect, Cece, now just hold still for me…"

Pegasus hesitated briefly before stepping into the room. He glanced around out of habit, but of course no one was watching, so he nervously reached towards the easel, and with a shaking hand picked up a brush.

He stared blankly at the paint he had picked up, as though he had forgotten what it was. Carefully he dipped the brush into the pallet and brought it down on the canvas, a bright streak of color across the surface. Slowly, he began to paint.

Stroke by stroke, the picture formed underneath his hands, guided by a long lost passion that had all but burned out years before, when his one true love had been snatched away from him.

The colors flowed from the brush with a life of their own, swirling and blending together like the hues of a raging sunset. Flowers bloomed from bud to blossom, petals vibrant with life.

The sky outside the room's only window faded from afternoon to sundown, then to dusk, then the heavens opened and it began to rain. Wind howled through the trees and the fat raindrops pounded against the glass, but the painter took no notice as he mixed the colors with a thin brush before filling the color of bright azure eyes. Memories of those same eyes, sparkling with reflected firelight in a way that left him speechless, caused him to hesitate for a moment, tears welling up in his own eyes, before blinking them away harshly and continuing his work. After all, there was no reason to cry. Everything was perfect. He was happy, and for just now he could pretend that she was still here with him, and that she was happy too.

She would be soon. Just a little longer, he told himself. The boy was on his way here already, and before long he would have his love back by his side.

Almost done. Just a little longer.

The morning found Pegasus slumped against the side of the easel, breathing softly, brush still clutched in one hand. The sunlight from the window spilled across his face and slowly he blinked his eyes open, yawning slightly. He raised a hand to cover his eyes and stared confused at the smears of paint on it. It took him a minute before he remembered how he had come to be there.

Cautiously he rose and turned to face the canvas. His heart jumped into his throat as he stared into the cerulean eyes of his young lover exactly as he remembered her on that day so long ago.

Navy colored ribbons were braided into her golden hair, flowing elegantly around her shoulders. A delicate silk dress, a pastel shade of blue, one strap falling off her shoulder innocently. Pale hands clutched the bundle of roses, each one a different shade. A smile of pure joy, ruby lips parted slightly in silent laughter. A gold ring on the third finger of her left hand.

A faint smile touched his lips even as a tear slipped down Pegasus's cheek. For a long moment, he simply stood there staring into the face of his beloved Cecelia. Soon he would have her back. It wouldn't be long. He was so close now. He couldn't lose. He wouldn't lose.

With a smile, Pegasus turned and left the room to find a bathroom where he could wash the paint off his hands before it dried completely.

Owari

Pegga is such a great character, don't you think? An excellent combination of angst, passion, intelligence, and insanity, no?

Hope you enjoyed ma petite histoire. Adieu!