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deemoyzaTitle: The Flowers of the Afternoon (2,257 words)
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Transistor
Rating/Warnings: General Audiences / No Warnings Apply
Characters: Red, Blue
Relationships: Red/Blue
Summary: After a simple, intimate picnic in the Country, Red finds her creativity rekindled, and her relationship with her lover reaffirmed yet again.
Notes: A bit of shameless fluff written for the Supergiant Secret Santa exchange on Tumblr. Since it was a gift, Blue (Boxer) is named Ward, according to the recipient's preference.
He picked up a folded blanket from the chair beside him, then walked toward the door and pulled a straw hat off the peg beside it. He waited for Red to join him, then took the basket from her hand and plopped the hat onto her head as she walked past him. "You can't just turn off the sun here," he reminded her.
"I know." Though sometimes, she did forget. The biggest adjustment she'd had to make to Country life was the lack of accommodation of her specific needs. Some days, she still woke up groping for buttons that didn't exist, to open or close the curtains, or brew a pot of coffee, or tell her the weather forecast for the day. She'd overestimated her hardiness in the sun early on, not realizing how much brighter it shone here, and for how much longer, and thus, ended up with her first sunburn. There was no way to adjust the intensity or duration of the sunlight, she learned, so she needed to accommodate it.
In much the same way that Ward learned not to accommodate mosquitos.
Mistakes and minor discomforts aside, Red found plenty to love about living in the Country. There was freedom here, a sense of being truly alive that she had never felt in all her years in Cloudbank. The world around her was not governed by popular vote; it did not care what she thought of it, or what her plans for the day were, as it played itself out on the ebb and flow of natural energies, predictable in pattern, but breathtaking in execution. It made her feel very small, and nowhere near as central to its workings as she had felt in Cloudbank, but it made her feel so much more a part of them.
She and Ward picked their way across a field of tall grass, accustomed to but not yet familiar with the uneven ground beneath them, to a small creek flanked by vibrant wildflowers, and a stand of trees along the far bank. Ward easily stepped over the water, then turned around and extended his hand toward Red. She considered it for a moment with a mischievous grin, before slipping off her shoes and wading across, shrieking at the shock of cold water against her warm skin and collapsing against him, laughing, when she reached the other side.
They stayed like that for a while, letting their laughter fade into slow, even breaths, letting their hands roam across one another's backs. They held onto each other as if, even after weeks together in the Country, they still could not believe the other was really here, that their heart beat so close to their own. These affirmations of themselves, and of each other, were not uncommon, and this one ended as most did, with Ward kissing Red's cheek and whispering his love to her, and her responding by pressing her palms against his back and pulling him close as hard as she could.
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Transistor
Rating/Warnings: General Audiences / No Warnings Apply
Characters: Red, Blue
Relationships: Red/Blue
Summary: After a simple, intimate picnic in the Country, Red finds her creativity rekindled, and her relationship with her lover reaffirmed yet again.
Notes: A bit of shameless fluff written for the Supergiant Secret Santa exchange on Tumblr. Since it was a gift, Blue (Boxer) is named Ward, according to the recipient's preference.
He picked up a folded blanket from the chair beside him, then walked toward the door and pulled a straw hat off the peg beside it. He waited for Red to join him, then took the basket from her hand and plopped the hat onto her head as she walked past him. "You can't just turn off the sun here," he reminded her.
"I know." Though sometimes, she did forget. The biggest adjustment she'd had to make to Country life was the lack of accommodation of her specific needs. Some days, she still woke up groping for buttons that didn't exist, to open or close the curtains, or brew a pot of coffee, or tell her the weather forecast for the day. She'd overestimated her hardiness in the sun early on, not realizing how much brighter it shone here, and for how much longer, and thus, ended up with her first sunburn. There was no way to adjust the intensity or duration of the sunlight, she learned, so she needed to accommodate it.
In much the same way that Ward learned not to accommodate mosquitos.
Mistakes and minor discomforts aside, Red found plenty to love about living in the Country. There was freedom here, a sense of being truly alive that she had never felt in all her years in Cloudbank. The world around her was not governed by popular vote; it did not care what she thought of it, or what her plans for the day were, as it played itself out on the ebb and flow of natural energies, predictable in pattern, but breathtaking in execution. It made her feel very small, and nowhere near as central to its workings as she had felt in Cloudbank, but it made her feel so much more a part of them.
She and Ward picked their way across a field of tall grass, accustomed to but not yet familiar with the uneven ground beneath them, to a small creek flanked by vibrant wildflowers, and a stand of trees along the far bank. Ward easily stepped over the water, then turned around and extended his hand toward Red. She considered it for a moment with a mischievous grin, before slipping off her shoes and wading across, shrieking at the shock of cold water against her warm skin and collapsing against him, laughing, when she reached the other side.
They stayed like that for a while, letting their laughter fade into slow, even breaths, letting their hands roam across one another's backs. They held onto each other as if, even after weeks together in the Country, they still could not believe the other was really here, that their heart beat so close to their own. These affirmations of themselves, and of each other, were not uncommon, and this one ended as most did, with Ward kissing Red's cheek and whispering his love to her, and her responding by pressing her palms against his back and pulling him close as hard as she could.
