Different Stars
The stars are different than he remembers.
A/N: My first Razaya fic. I just had to attempt to write something after the Loss episode, because too many Razaya feels. I really hope you'll like it!
Disclaimer: Don't own GL:TAS.
He leaves the ship only a few days after the incident.
Everything about it reminds him of her. His heart breaks, killing him in an excruciatingly, painful manner. He can feel her essence, he can feel his arms envelop her disintegrated, broken shell of a body, and he can feel the darkness descend on them.
It doesn't surprise Hal or Kilowog when he tells them he needs to resign from the team, to escape this last connection to her.
He flies away across the galaxy aimlessly and the stars are different than he remembers; so very dim.
He has lived on many different planets since his departure from the ship, always migrating again after a few months because he can never quite settle down.
Wherever he goes, it never feels like home.
Because home is where she is, but with her gone no such haven exists.
Every night he dreams about kissing her.
Eyes closed, lips brushing gently, and that warm, glowing feeling burning passionately in his chest.
It's sweet and soft, enticing every fibre in his being, sending electric frizzes through his veins.
When they slowly break the kiss, just moving a few inches away, he'd feel all flustered and his eyes flutter open. He would look into hers, those beautiful eyes of her, and he'd feel all his worries and nerves dissipate. Her eyes are so soothing, calming, and always have that same glint of hope, of bliss, and he realises that despite being a robot, she carries much more emotions than most organisms do.
It's then that he whispers that he loves her, that he is so in love with her, to which she smiles so genuinely, and he just knows that she feels the same way.
He never wants this moment of pure bliss to end.
But the sun blinds his eyes in response, and the memory of her smile, of their kiss fades away until he wakes up, trembling and sweating with the bed sheets clinging to his skin.
He's never understood the meaning of regret more than now.
One day at the market he notices a young boy presenting a flower to a young girl. The boy tickles her nose with it first, and then lays it in her cupped hands before she pecks him on the cheek affectionately.
He can't help but think upon the day he gave her that blue flower, saying that life was returning.
And he can't help but think that someday she'd come back for him.
Because after all, she always does.