Breakaway
At eighteen Red was at the top of the world—literally, but not metaphorically. Once or twice he had thought about jumping, about letting the wind catch onto his limbs and carry him away like a small bird learning how to fly. It was a silly image that always ended abruptly with the vision oh his mangled body lying flat against the rocks underneath. He was a coward, then, nothing wrong with that. It kept him alive.
The boy with the golden eyes was the first.
He had thought it would be someone else. Someone familiar with spiky hair and the scent of evergreens lingering in his wake. For a while Red had even believed it could be her, but no. It always had to be the boy.
It felt like he'd been swinging for a long time, stuck in the high altitude, waiting to crash. It was about time to come down.
When the mighty fire dragon fell with thunderous roar, Red closed his eyes and smiled. Losing felt a lot like falling asleep and sleep… sleep was something he ha been craving for, for a long time.
Afterwards, the boy took him down. He was bubbly. Spicy. Full of life.
He reminded him of Green so much it hurt.
There was a girl, also. Two girls in fact. One like an iceberg, almost completely hidden beneath the surface, and the other like a volcano, happily erupting at any given moment. They both were there for the boy, wanting to be the first ones to know.
They weren't.
The boy averted his eyes and grinned painfully like he was holding back a whole waterfall. He had made a call earlier, when he'd thought the old champion was resting soundly. There was no way for the boy to know about Red's long-suffering insomnia and so he'd ended up hearing the whole thing.
There had been many curses.
Many curses in between the whispered confessions of love and trust much too strong for someone his age.
Sheepishly the boy shrugged it off and let himself fall into an easy conversation with the girls. It was a marvel, Red thought, how the boy could so easily defeat him in every aspect without even trying. He himself had been trying all his life and never once had he succeeded in the things he wanted to—the things that mattered.
At the crossroads, the boy asked him where he was going to go next.
He said he didn't know.
It was only half the truth, but the boy accepted it without a blink. He grinned, far freer than any bird, and punched the air out of Red's lungs with three simple words:
"Just go home."
And Red, feeling high with the lack of oxygen, answered his smile.
Yes, he supposed he would.
End
A/N: because apparently, this whole 'coming down from mt. silver'-thing hasn't already been done to death by me (and everyone else). Oh well, I have nothing more relevant to post and I sorta like this. It used to be the prologue of a longer fic I'm writing, but it looked really out of place so I split it in two.
Thanks for reading, leave a note if you have the time! It would mean a lot to me. :)