Title: Your Eyes are Just Stained Glass
Challenge Set: #2
Challenge: Sour (#13)
Rating: T
Word Count: 416
Pairings: Pursuit/Flattop
Summary: sometimes the change is so obvious… and sometimes it's not there at all.
Other Notes: Takes place some time after the two have met and bonded.

You're getting better. Every day you're getting better. Don't you realize it? Every day you smile with a bit more honesty, and you're quicker to forgive than the day before.

Did I do anything to create it? Is it partly my doing?

We've joked that I've been as much of a parent to you as a mate. But… I wonder how true that is. Primus knows my soft spot for lost souls, and you yourself know how fiercely I defend my own young ones. But is that how you see me? A mother who is also your mate? Or your mate who is also a mother?

Sometimes I wonder what you think about right before you fly. Your optics seem so far away as you gaze at the horizon, just at the moment you bend your knees and burst off to the one place I cannot follow.

What are you looking for? At that moment, each and every time at that moment, you let layer after layer of your masks fall. The one of arrogance, and that of laughter, and apathy,and hate, and fearlessness.

Do you think of him at that moment? Is he what you're searching for? You can't honestly still think you can earn his love, can you? Is that why you look like that just before you go to the place you've always loved best? Is he the reason you love your wings?

We've argued about this, about him, so many times I've lost count. No matter how many times we argue, and how many times I win, I can't help but think I haven't won at all. For as you improve every day, there are some things about you that won't ever change. You'll still hide beneath your masks first and you'll still want more love. Love that I can't give you and love you won't ever receive.

As much as we joke about it, you really don't see me as a mother, do you? At least, not yours. And as a result, that pain I see, the searching and lost gaze won't ever disappear. I can't cure you of that, and nor can I follow you when you fly.

What can I do, love? Tell me how I can help you. This simple femme can only do so much by herself, and she gets scared when she sees that look in your optics. Every day it seems your optics glow a little warmer, but by sunset they're just stained glass.