A/N: So here's the translation of one of my fics, thanks to a little gentleman and two beers xD (I love you~)

Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own the characters.

What else can I say? Just a toast for those platonic loves!

Impressions

Fate is like a capricious muse, it goes at its own pace and inevitably takes us with it. There are a number of circumstances, decisions and coincidences which are devising it.

And perhaps was fate itself, which made her saw her that rainy day.

Maybe it was a series of coincidences that led her to meet her eyes lit by the early rays of the sun.

And without a doubt it was a sequence of "if" that made she to notice her.

If it wasn't raining, perhaps she had went walking instead of taking a bus. If she had charged her Ipod last night, maybe it would not died. If her Ipod would not died, she probably doesn't look around in boredom. If she doesn't look around... she would not have noticed her sitting next to a few seats away on the cold bench of the bus stop. If that bus had not arrived, the man who was in the middle had not stand up just when she turned around and, instead of a blonde, she had met with a bald worker. If there wasn't a breeze blowing, her hair had not waving to the wind, giving it a lofty air.

If at that moment the cloud had not moved to discover the sun that refused to hide despite the rain, maybe her hair may not have had that golden glow and her eyes ... Her eyes would not have seemed like two gems, two rubys in the middle of a desert of concrete.

She was beautiful. A celestial appearance, an angel.

She called her "Fate".

Because "Fate" means "Destiny" and was fate which put her in her way. Because like fate, an unknown force made her feel inevitably attracted to her.

She wore a white dress and sandals. She doesn't carried an umbrella. A book was her only possession. If she had not heard the sound she made when the page was turned over, she wouldn't have realized that she was reading, too focused on holding her profile in her mind.

As she could swear was the first time in her life, she found herself without words and without the strength to speak, to talk to her. She just limited to watch her for eternity, which can be a short moment, without blinking, afraid by the possibility of her disappearance if she did that.

Her bus arrived and she forced herself to board the bus, if she didn't she would be late and her mother will scold her. She didn't want to go, her feet moved, but her eyes remained on her and, for a second, their eyes met. The blonde raised her head, perhaps feeling the intense lavender gaze in her, and the young girl was lost in a sea of wine. She couldn't define it better, because she felt drunk, trembly, weak and out of her body.

The bus started to move and she kept watching her through the window until she disappeared behind a wall of buildings and vehicles.

Her image didn't left her head in all day. She wasn't capable of remember any single word of the lessons or pay attention to any comments from her friends.

The next day didn't rain. And her ethereal muse was not there. The next day happened the same, and the next day too.

For several days she could only see her in her dreams. For several days, she dreamed with her eyes. For several days ... she thought it was only a dream.

After two weeks, there was another capricious summer rain and when she reached the bus station, there was she, sitting, reading. For a moment she was breathless. She was real, she said to herself, something what she thought was a product of her imagination, she was real. And that made her happy.

This time there was no seats available and she had to stay standing, far from her. However, she kept watching her -as quietly as she could-, analyzing every detail, memorizing every feature of her face, every wrinkle of her leather jacket, all, in order to have a clear image of she in her mind, in case of another time interval without seeing her.

And so it was.

Again her bus arrived and she left, but this time their eyes didn't meet. Again the next day, there was no rain, and she wasn't there.

The third time she saw her, came up with a theory. That day it was raining, so she thought the angel only descended on rainy days, to read quietly among a lot of people, waiting impatiently their transport.

Clearly this theory lacked a bit of reality and it just was an invention of her big imagination. And although she partly knew it, she couldn't help it, for her, the girl was an angel and her idea was based on what she believed.

This time, something happened too ... unbelievable. A little puppy appeared at the bus stop, probably from a nearby alley. The puppy walk in front of her and all other individuals, sniffing a few feet, and stopped in front of her, who was sitting in the last seat. The animal made a little sound, a mere "woof", wagging the tail. And then it happened: the angel averted her eyes from her book to see the quadruped, turning her body in the process -to that direction, fortunately for the girl- and her lips curled.

She smiled, though the girl still in trance. The angel smiled. A slight smile, warm, gentle, pure ... beautiful.

And then she understood that the girl was not an angel, she was a goddess.

A smile of a goddess that left her breathless and the beating of her heart was bouncing on her head.

That day she knew she could never forget her.

Understanding that, she got used to long periods of time without seeing each other -without seeing her, rather-. During that time, she remembered her, imagined, invented and speculated. About all that could be related to that goddess.

About who she would be, about her hobbies (at least she knew that she liked reading), what kind of student would be (a very good, she thought), if she would be a good athlete (for her legs, she was sure of it), what kind of music she liked, if she liked sweet things or the salty things, if she would go to karaoke, if she have a phobia, if she is a person of many friends ... Although something told "no" to this last thought.

The goddess, sublime as she was, maintained an aura of loneliness around her, a kind of wall with the outside and her eyes, although magnificent, always seemed to have a shadow of sadness. She wondered many times a day in what would be the reason of that.

She thought that it could be family problems, maybe at home nobody appreciated her -at least she was sure they didn't appreciate her like she did-. That she might be waiting for a knight in shining armor that rescue her. She created several fantasies where she was that knight who took her in his arms and kidnapping her, to make her happy forever. Where she hug her, contain her, support her, kiss her and treasuring her eternally, and the goddess would not have to do anything but smile sincerely, because she doesn't need to say anything to love her.

Because she already loved her, she was sure of it.

Since the first time she imagined herself saving the goddess, from whatever which had her trapped in loneliness, dressed in white, holding her hand and soaring through the skies with her, flying, away from there, away from everybody, away from her sadness ... Since that time she began to wonder about her feelings.

Hayate, her childhood friend and the only person to whom she had spoken of his crimson-eyed goddess, said she was in love.

At first she didn't know if it was true, although the seriousness with which her prankster friend had told that got her out of place, she could not stop doubting. Then she realized that her friend was right and she accepted it.

She accepted that she loved her.

But she accepted that hated her, too.

Sometimes she hated her. She hated that she make her hate herself for being a coward and not trying to speak to her. She hated the effect she had on her, that she made her run out of words. She hated that she turned her in a completely different person, from a happy and social girl, who never had fear or trouble on making friends, to a dumb statue in what she became when she saw her.

And she hated destiny.

She hated that cruel fate that had put that goddess in her path and from there it only was playing with her.

It wasn't that she didn't think about talking to her, she always did. She spent hours, days, devising thousands of ways to start a conversation, hundreds of possibilities that could make the blonde to notice her ... but this didn't happen.

And it wasn't that these curious casualties didn't happen, only it wasn't happened to her.

For example, she had thought they might collide by accident. When boarding the bus was easy for people to stumble and push them, so she considered that if she stood near the blonde, some day, could happen that "accidentally" they will collide and she could apologize, starting a conversation. And miraculously it happened, not to her, but the guy next door, who was practically sitting on the goddess. She hated him and felt the need to kick him out of there. And hated the lady who pushed him, that might well have taken a couple of meters and push her instead, so it was she who fall on her goddess, who could feel the touch of her body and absorb her aroma, who remain looking straight into the eyes, with just inches away from their faces, that was she who received that gentle smile when she apology ... She, not that stupid guy who rose up like a spring and apologized awkwardly, like an idiot. In fact, he was an idiot, she just knew it, that guy was an idiot. And she took the bus hating that -lucky- idiot.

There was also that time when she really cursed the destiny, and would continue to do for the rest of her life, probably.

That day happened the best "coincidence" that she can imagine, but again ... not to her. This possibility consisted in that the beautiful girl could drop something and she, kindly, pick that up and return it to her, and not only get a smile in return, but it could be that she can touch her fingers in the exchange ... The reality far exceeded her expectation: she was, as always, at a safe distance, not too far nor too close, but enough to observe carefully and feel her presence. That day she didn't carry a book, but a notebook in which she was taking notes -Maybe she was decided to write her own book? -. Her expression of concentration was lovely, and it had her dazed. Of course she didn't miss any detail, therefore she was the first to realize that the pencil will fall of her hand, by the way she was holding the pencil while playing with it, thoughtfully. However, although she reacted immediately when this happened, just, too fair, a man walked aside the blonde at the moment the pencil touched the ground ... It was a matter of stoop, take it and return it. As simple as he did. As if it were the simplest thing in the world. Like it was nothing! As if there were no girl -she- who begged at least a dozen times a day for that to happen to her!

The girl froze, still with one foot forward in the step that she had reached to walk. Her open mouth, her dry tongue, her lifeless and surprised eyes. In a split of a second, however, her blood began to boil. She felt like kicking something, yelling to that man and cursing her luck and the capricious fate. Without a doubt she was on the verge of yielding to their most brutal instincts -perhaps not against the ignorant man, but maybe to an innocent can-, when she heard it...

"Thank you."

A simple word escaped from those fleshy pink lips, a whisper, almost an illusion, but no. Definitely she had spoken, she saw her mouth open, she could almost feel the mist formed by the contrast of her warm breath with the low temperature ... and she definitely had heard her. Her voice. A ... heavenly voice. It was just as she had imagined, or even better, soft, smooth, gentle, yet powerful, sweet and slightly rough. She had not heard music that sounds as perfect as that. A sound that, literally, could calm a beast -it calmed her-. Magically she had forgotten the man who had stolen her big time, she didn't know if he walked away or not, it didn't matter, all that existed was her goddess. She swallowed hard and start walking towards her, almost without being aware of it, she wanted to hear her voice again, needed to hear more, anything, but she had to make her speak again. She was going to speak to her, that was the only way. She had to do that and then ... and then ... her life would change. Or at least it would be better, if she had that goddess, that angel in it.

But what cruel can be the destiny, that was determined to torment her with fatal fortune? What could not have she a shred of mercy and compassion with her massacred hope? Could it not recognize all the courage that she had to collect to finally daring to approach her? Did it just come for the first time, the bus of his angel before hers ...? Just when she was two steps away from her, resing to that and see her go ...?

That was a ruthless act, heartless ... A relentless blow, ghoulish ... against her poor soul.

Her determination died with that damn-untimely-bus. Her courage relented during the day. And her smile disappeared for a week.

The only thing that prevented that she was a kind of zombie after that, was to remember that wonderful melody. The voice of her angel. She remembered it so clearly that her mind was able to play that voice with great precision, but she kept wondering how it would sound said by her. Many times, it was just a single word that she said. Her name. A simple "Nanoha", pronounced by her angel, will take her to heaven. All those times that her mind gave that gift, was accompanied by a picture of her Fate, smiling. And she couldn't do anything, but smile back. Although the reality was that she was smiling to none.

How hard can it be to say "hello"? She used to wonder after recalling the voice of Fate with the absurd idea of feeling her closer.

One word. A greeting. Two syllables. She had said it countless times in her life, but she wasn't even able to try it if it was about the blonde. She didn't understand why. Although one day she came to the conclusion that that was what made Fate so special, it was something that never had happened to her. It could be the biggest frustration of her life, but at the same time -and this was something that took some time to matter- it was what made her feel alive.

Suddenly she was no longer just a girl who go to school and was in the average, who in the afternoon helped in the family cafeteria and who hung out with her friends on her days off. Suddenly she was no longer the youngest daughter of three of a loving but busy family, she was no longer the girl who loved her friends, but she felt she could never get really close to any of them. She no longer felt bored everyday. She no longer felt empty. Suddenly she had a purpose. A goal. A Fate.

And it filled her with an unknown sense until then, and absolute bliss ...

She sat beside her, but as always, nothing was said.

... and at the same time, a terrifying fear.

Fear of what Fate produce to her.

She felt a tickling in her arm, almost touching the blonde's.

Afraid of what she saw in Fate.

They were very close, yet felt incredibly far. Like if the girl was unreachable.

She had already understood, a reason for the silence. For her, Fate was an angel, a goddess ... and she was just a normal girl. Was she really so deluded to believe that a simple "hello" would be enough to that supreme being?

That was the problem: Fate was perfect.

It wasn't the fact that she didn't want to talk to her, she really hoped to do that someday, she just needed the perfect words, something that would be worthy of Fate. And that insecurity left her speechless.

But was another reason that caused the silence; fear to discover that there is no perfection. Fear to discover a single fact that could destroy the perfect world she had created in her mind, something that takes away her angel's wings, something that desecrate her goddess.

Fear of discovering that Fate is not perfect, just like her. That she is just a girl.

She dared to look sideways at the young girl beside her. At that distance she looked just like a girl ... beautiful and impressive, if she was only a girl. Still wonderful, like when she admired her from the distance.

Suddenly she felt the need to look at her hand. She was so close, that if she stretched her hand could touch the girl ... She wasn't unattainable; she was right beside her, she could feel the warmth emanating from her body and that made butterflies dancing in her stomach.

She could touch her, but she didn't. She could speak to her, but remained silent. However, this time, she was sure that when she find the right words, would be the beginning of their life together. The beginning of Fate and Nanoha.

For once, she smiled when she saw her get on the same bus. Hers pass by, but she had caught the habit of waiting until the angel go first, to see her, at least, a couple of more minutes. She couldn't know, but maybe that simple gesture was enough to change destiny, or make it to take its path.

Nanoha smiled, as always staring at Fate and, as never before, she looked back at her and smile. Not knowing what it was that made her do it, the copper raised a hand in farewell. And she could swear that the blonde did the same at the time when the bus left.

She sighed, stretching into the seat. Staying with her eyes on the sky, it was a beautiful sunny day. She smiled.

"I want to be friends" ... she thought it might be a good start.

A/N: Originally this was a one-shot but, for some reasons, I wrote a second chapter, though, because this was a "fooling around" thing (the translation) I don't know if the 2 will be translated too, so I'll leave it here for now.

Thanks for reading and this is not a fic related to christmas, but it can work as a christmas gift, so Merry Christmas to everybody out there!