Title: Sometimes, life is too short.
Rating: PG
Characters/pairings: Claire Redfield, Steve Burnside
Authors notes: I was watching a bit of youtube where Claire loses Steve, and it's sad, so here's a little fic for a pick me up. This can be taken as platonic love or romantic. Either way works. (Since I'm taking this directly from canon where she cries for him, and he tells her he loves her)
---"I hear Hawaii's nice this time of year." --
Quote by Claire Redfield to Steve Burnside, after escaping from Rockfort Island.
xxxx
She's not about to get angry, no, she can't.
She's standing there by the water, while the ships are docking, and the sun is disappearing down that oceanic horizon.
Her hair is completely tied back with a rubberband she found in her belt pack. The colour of her hair is brilliant in this light, brilliant under the sky and weather.
So she's glad that her sunglasses hide her eyes, the expression of anger marring her face.
"Goddamnit, Steve, where are you?" she mutters under her breath. Taking one look back to where her bike is, parked by the line of cars at the uphill lot, she thinks of what condition he'll be in.
Still, her heart is beating fast, and watches through the amber haze of her vision, those around her---all these people: they're leaving the ships, disembarking with pallid faces and cold expressions.
She watches as some have come to take the passengers home, and her eyes search for him, longing somehow.
"Claire!"
Her heart beats too fast, and the tears are threatening to flow.
She's seen him, running to her, one hand gripping some kind of duffel bag, perhaps all his belongings are in there. There's a huge smile on his face, in his eyes.
The wind has picked up, the smell of the sea and the sound of sea gulls surrounds her, and she's in his arms, too fast, but not too soon.
Her arms are holding him, and he's got her body tight against his. He takes her sunglasses off, slowly sinking his eyes in hers.
"Claire," he says this with softness this time. His eyes telling her everything that she needs to know.
She doesn't say anything, too angry, too frantic, too tired, too engrossed in him.
He tries again, his hands are cupping her face, gentle. "Sweet Claire, how I've missed you. How are you?"
She tries to be embaressed, pretends to be angry, snorts a little, and shifts her face a little away. "You're late."
But she never leaves her smile.
"I know. I'm sorry. Did I make you worry?" He is grinning.
"Yes. Dumbass." she only says the last comment teasingly.
He pulls her against him, his arms around her shoulders like a pal, hands firm on the side of her arm. His lips close to her temple, inhaling the talc scent of her hair.
"He promised you know. He came through." He tells her as a matter-of-fact, reminding her.
She tries to evade the darkness, the distant fear there, rising up like a demon.
Claire finds herself unsure; gulps, swallows a little, and nods. "I know. I just couldn't trust him, but when I heard your voice on the phone, when you told me you were going to be here, I couldn't make myself believe..."
"But you did.."
"How did he do it, Steve?" She looks over at him, fearful for the truth, but desperately wants it.
"He can do anything... he," Steve pauses, his youthful face takes on this hardness, "he can do anything he wants, he's got the power and I'm not talking about just wealth. He's got everything to his disposal."
"So why? Why would he do this for you? For me? For us?"
They are walking towards Claire's bike, Steve carrying his duffel bag and his other holding her close, their paces in unison.
"He told me that he only wanted us to be happy." the lie is too strong, but he says it anyway, and he feels her pause in her step.
"Steve, don't. Don't hide this from me. Wesker wants something." Claire's expression is stern, unwavering.
The sound of a ship's horn blows, loud enough so that they're standing there, staring at each other.
She's facing him now, her chest rises and falls, her hands, ungloved fingers dig into her palm.
"Don't, Claire." He whispers to her, after awhile. "Please. Don't ask me. Can we not share what we have now?"
Tears start to fall from her eyes, the intensity of his shaking voice makes her feel raw, unveiled.
She tries to reach up, but he's already there ---wiping the stray tear away.
He tells her, because there's too little time, "I love you, Claire, I've always loved you."
She doesn't realize that her tears are clouding her vision, but he's already holding her against him, whispering against her brilliant brick-brown hair, "I want to spend whatever time I have with you."
Claire remembers how she cried holding him in her arms. She feels her heart swell again.
She knows that this is the best thing, because her eyes are stinging and her body is warmed by his; even under the present lights-- where they're instantly turned on from the clock's short hand reaching six.
She is happy for the moment, her smile is tremulous, "where would you like to go first?"
"I was thinking," he offers, "how about we go and get some food, whatever you want, and we go and take a trip?"
"A trip huh?" She gets on her bike, turns the key so that the engine runs a steady purr; and he's getting on, behind her, his duffel bag already tied securely at the back.
"Yeah." he chuckles behind her, his arms wraps around her waist, "a surprise." Steve whispers this close to her ear.
"Mmmmm I can't wait." Claire turns her head a little, leans over to reach for something.
She puts her helmet on, and hands him an extra one, "safety first."
He raises his brows at the designs and the stickers, "your brother's?"
She laughs, the tip her boot lifts the stand, securing it in place, and they're leaving a trail of smoke as the last blinking red light makes a right turn to the city.
xx
---thank you for reading!