Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: This has been sitting in my WIP folder for years, and it's basically as finished as it's ever going to be.
Collision Course
He doesn't want to feel this way.
It's dangerous, misguiding; perhaps nothing more than another delusion brought on by his neurosis. The walls Merbian society built around him his entire life come down around her, and she takes what should be hard as stone on the inside and turns it soft, making him vulnerable, open to attacks aimed directly at his naturally anxious heart. Most of the time, he doesn't mind. That strange pang in his chest that comes in response to a smile or a compliment from her is a welcomed reminder that he is no longer a slave to the culture he left behind and replaced with this misfit group of teenagers. On occasion, however, he can't help but realize just how every wrong it is to feel this way for her.
And it would seem that this is one of those times, and he stares blankly ahead as he pilots the Condor, trying his best to ignore the way she lingers so close by, helping him navigate through a dense fog.
He doesn't need her help, though. He knows where they're going because he's memorized every chart and map on the airship. But he lets her put her hand on his shoulder, fingertips digging in through the leather of his uniform uncomfortably. Her grip tightens, and that's when he decides that, for today, enough is enough. He shrugs her off. "It's fine... I can manage."
I don't need you.
And maybe if he keeps telling himself that, he'll believe it one day. It will sink in to his horribly thick skull and erase all of these things he thinks he feels for her and he won't want her anymore.
"Are you sure?" she asks, the hand he urged away from him fisted gently at her side, her eyes searching for answers before he can even process the question totally.
It does process eventually, and he's stuck staring into those fiery eyes. He sighs heavily and forces himself to look ahead once more, into the fog, away from her, because her eyes have a way of scorching and she doesn't even realize it.
That stare of hers will burn him alive, one day, he's sure of it.
"Stork?"
He can't say no to her, and his heart drops to the pit of his stomach all over again in the simple amount of time it takes for her to say his name and put her hand back onto his shoulder. His eye twitches, but he manages to look back to her and fakes a smile that she can't see through, and she smiles back because she's just a kid and doesn't know any better.
"Well, maybe – " he starts, wide eyes darting between the fog and the fire, "maybe I... could use your help."
Her smile broadens, and his walls come down again.
