Disclaimer: Digimon does not belong to me, and never will.
Summary: Post02. Daiyako, Kenyako. Daisuke wants to experience what it's like to finally win. Drabble-300 words.
So after abandoning the fandom for a very, very long time, I'm back with a short piece focusing on Daisuke. Written originally for the coup d'etat contest in lj's Digimon Drabbles community. Enjoy, and all reviews are welcome!
"Friends"
Her shiny purple strands were dancing through his fingers when it happened. In her glasses he saw his own reflection, and he saw the look in his eyes, and he kissed her.
Simple, sweet, soft. Swift. It was over, and then it registered. Her hair had mesmerized him, and he had kissed her, and suddenly "just friends" meant nothing.
He would have stopped, but he liked the way she smiled and was just a little bewildered. He liked the way his fingers steadied the small of her back, and he liked the way she kissed him back. Hesitant every time.
Because she knew and he knew that this wasn't okay. Yes, she loved him; but love had layers, and this wasn't love to the core. And yes, he loved her; but he loved the thought of her even more. He loved the way he could talk to her, and he loved the way she let him play with her hair, but mostly he loved her publicly accidental brushes against his skin, and the subtle ways she would draw back from Ken, and the secret smiles she sent his way.
He loved smiling back, because he finally knew something. With her long hair and her pink lips and her girly skirt she had recognized him, and she had accepted him, and she had chosen. With futile moth-wing movements against the expanse of horizon she had chosen him.
And, in a sense, he had overthrown perfection. Against all odds and intelligence and looks and perfect-boyishness he had won. Her fingertips against his skin validated the knowing.
And when they returned to their old relationship and he didn't feel for her hair and her lips and her kisses anymore, that was fine. Feeling was a thing of the past and knowing was enough.