Have I ever told you that you're the sunshine of my life?
…No, I'm not saying it to be mushy or cute or cliché. I mean it.
What do you think sunshine is?
It's light, it's hope, it's the coming of something fresh and new and bright and beautiful. It's a whispered promise on my ears, a gentle kiss across my cheeks, a soft sigh against my chest. It's everything to me.
What? I'm not going to deny it.
You're everything to me. Why else would I be here now? Pfft, you think I'm here for my health? I stay and I endure the shit to see the sunshine; that's the honest to god truth.
Still don't believe me?
I can show you…
He watched the other teenager from his lounging perch in the treetops. His amber-black eyes seemed to suck in the very shadows around him, surrounding him in this constant dark aura that had nothing to do with his mood. That was just the way he was. The other one, though…he was special. Different. The first one couldn't help but think that each time he watched him like this. It was like he became the sunlight: the rays didn't just catch on his hair, they came from it; his eyes weren't blue like the sky, they reflected the sky itself, broad and beautiful and so, so deep. He could get lost in that ever-blue stare, and it was hard not to do so, even when you had your guard up all the time like he did. As he watched, he could swear the dark tanned flesh rippling over taunt muscles was merely an extension of the sun-drenched earth he crossed with each jab and cartwheel and lunge. One huge, fluid motion of sunshine and warmth. God, he loved the warmth that emanated from him. It was all-consuming; the power of it burned away darkness, doubt, fear, and engulfed you in never-ending confidence and peace. And love. Oh yes, there was love. He felt it each time their eyes met, each time their hands intertwined. He knew it was there every time they argued and squabbled and fought, all he had to do was look through his eyes, those big, soul-filled blue eyes, and see himself staring back, and he knew the truth. He was his, and the other belonged to him. And neither questioned it, because that was the way things worked, and it was right, so everything was fine.
He looked up, pushing the golden strands away from the wide blueness. "What the hell are you staring at?"
"Your stance is weak," he said calmly from his perch on the tree branch and was rewarded with a kunai flying straight at his face. Effortlessly, he slipped out a shurinkan and flipped it causally in the other weapon's direction, where they clashed in mid-air and deflected one another, the dagger going into the dirt and the star sticking into the bark of the tree.
"Showoff," he growled.
"You're just too slow," he jumped out of the tree, landing gracefully on his feet.
A flare of power surged against him suddenly, and he was almost overtaken by a wave of sunlight so strong it nearly blinded him. Then again, he always became blinded when it came to this one. Who was pouting. It was cute if not endearing, and it claimed a small smile from the darker boy's lips.
"You're laughing at me," the heat of his glare rolled off him in torrents.
"It's easy to do," the smile widened.
"Bastard!"
"Idiot."
"Asshole!"
"Moron."
"Fucker!"
"Dobe."
And he knew he had won, just like that. The boy's fiery anger had extinguished as soon as it had come. This conflict was natural to them, and to hell be damned if it ever changed.
"You owe me ramen for that."
"I get called a fucker, but you get ramen?"
"I could call you a lot worse."
And he opened his mouth to start yet another argument, another challenge, and abruptly decided against it.
"You could," he agreed, catching the other off guard. And before he could voice his suspicions, his comrade had turned back toward the village. "Come on, let's get you your ramen." And so they walked toward the restaurant in silence, one of them quietly puzzled and the other simply basking in the brilliant warmth of his own personal sun. And when the boy reached out and took his hand, he let the sun-baked earthen flesh wrap around his own seamlessly, as if it had been that way since the beginning of time. And it felt nice.
Take it to heart, dobe. You're the sunshine of my life, the light of my world, and you've got another thing coming if you think that's going to change at all. I'm just glad that you understand this even though I never say it aloud. You know me; you know this--the truth. No one can tell us otherwise. I don't care how many times I'm pushed aside or you're knocked down: you'll always be the sunlight that guides me home. That welcomes me back without judgment or bias. The light that welcomes me home.
Thank you. For being my sunshine. Thank you for knowing exactly who I am and how I feel.
Thank you for being you.