Fandom: Steven Universe
Ship: Ruby/Sapphire
A/N: I like the descriptions in this, shame I didn't know where to take this.
She remembers voices, not faces. The former is always a bright blur, like looking at the sun too long. She used to squint her eyes a lot, but now she doesn't bother trying to see.
She goes through life apathetic of her surroundings, though she worries where she is led. She beats her fist against the walls of the ship on the way to Earth and pouts in a corner, back pressed against the cold wall, fuming.
Homeworld and the planets she is dragged to are bland. Nothing to see. Nothing she can see, anyway, and at first, Earth is no different. The air smells crisper here, too clean, and the ground is soft, yielding to her footsteps. It's quieter here, not like Homeworld's solid ground with the hustle and bustle of gems and ships vibrating as they soar above and below.
It's quieter here. Too quiet.
Ruby really hates it. Without sound and vibrations even she'll admit that she can't see.
It's only when she's brooding under a seacliff that she can see- or rather- hear something that helps her.
The voice is as clear as a bell, the tone confident and strong. She sounds like dark blue stalactites glimmering in a cave and her voice paints pictures of things Ruby has never seen before:
An Earth sunset, the sky the color of pink lemonade, the sun orange and disappearing into the sea. The sand under their feet has a color: dusty pink, and as the sun draws down and night ascends, it begins to look pastel purple.
For the first time, Ruby's heart dances at her surroundings. For the first time she cares. She can taste the vermillion in the air and smell blackened tuna cooking from the beachgoers' campfires. The latter she has smelled before, but under the song's influence Ruby sees it differently, like it matters now.
The song begins to fade into the wind and Ruby jumps to her feet. A panic sweeps through her, and she realizes she needs to know the owner of the voice.
Thankfully, just as the voice begins to recede amongst the trees, it comes back again in full force. Ruby runs, blowing past all the scenery, jumping over rocks and tripping over empty barrels of rum. Her throat and lungs burn. It's nearly more than her body can take, but she refuses to stop. If she stops, she might never hear the other woman sing again. Or see again. Not as vibrantly as she is now, following the sound of the singer's voice.
She listens to her, follows her, and learns that at night the sky becomes a blanket of stars, galaxies swirling above, white, salmon pink, purple, and blue drawn across the inky sky. Suns implode distantly, the vibrations spanning thousands of light years. She might miss that sun, but the humans of this planet would never live long enough to.
And for a moment, Ruby knows what the humans must feel: tiny under the vastness of the stars, insignificant and fleeting. She feels compassion for them. It is strange, but not unpleasant.
She is getting closer to the singer. She can feel her, hear her clear as crystal. She runs faster, her lungs burning, her joints grinding in their sockets, limbs loose.
She finally stops, collapsing in a heap into the singer's arms, surprising the other woman.
"Are you okay?" she whispers.
X
Sapphire has a way about her. Her way of talking is a lot like singing. Each step she takes is graceful and meticulous. Ruby feels that when they walk hand in hand, it's like a dance.