Trying my hand at Trigun fic. This is a starter piece. Enjoy!
Reflection
"Meryl Stryfe considered herself to be pretty attached to her work. However, she didn't think it would be literally. Vash the Stampede had invaded her career…and her heart."
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She gazed up at the fifth moon, it's pink glow a vast contrast to its counterparts. Violet eyes scanned the street below as a soft breeze flitted in through the open window. Meryl Stryfe considered herself to be pretty attached to her work. Yet, she really didn't think it would be literally. Her adventures looking for the 60 billion double dollar man had led her and Milly to the crazy and eccentric man across the hall.
At times, she still had trouble believing it was him. Vash the Stampede, famed outlaw, exceptional gun's man. She ran a hand through her dark hair with a sigh. Milly had gone to sleep hours ago, but she just couldn't seem to keep a hold of it. In truth, she stayed awake so that she could hear if Vash decided to leave them again. He'd done it before. The pain of it, of the action, still surprised her. How could she feel this way about him?
Was it because of the way he handled each situation without harming anyone? Was it his superior marksmanship? Was it the way his red coat fit his body like a second skin? Sure, he had annoying issues and acted mostly crazy, but it seemed like he just really wanted peace. As she and Milly continued to follow him from town to town, it seemed like the chaos created in his wake wasn't even created by him.
Each town was destroyed by the people who wanted the bounty on his head. He tried to lay low, but it was to no avail. Other times, he wanted to get involved, to save people. Property damage ensued, but it was mostly by the people he was fighting. There were also secrets about him too. Ones she really, desperately wanted to know. Meryl wondered about where he got lost to when his thoughts turned grim.
Even before the explosion that caused the hole in the fifth moon. Who was he after?
Every question compiled more questions. After he was labeled a disaster and they returned home, she thought he died and she'd never see him again. She'd come to realize that she loved him. A crazy, silly, serious, kind-hearted man with a knack for trouble. A man who seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, and within the deeply embedded scars in his body.
Meryl Stryfe considered herself to be pretty attached to her work. However, she didn't think it would be literally. Vash the Stampede had invaded her career…and her heart.