A/N: Written for Gabri (thus upping her count to 22). Six months ago or something like that, she gave me a list of things she wanted to see written - the summary here is one of those things, with the 'sort of' added on because it didn't turn out like I planned. :p Also inspired by stories I was forced to read in my Eng. 102 class. :p Anyway, each word here was chosen pretty carefully (esp. because of the shortness), and I hope you enjoy.
It is nearing the end of the day, light and dark in long slices along the rooftops of Coruscant,
flashing color from far off buildings distractedly teasing at the corners of her
eyes. Luke is sitting alone, solid, the hazy air blurring everything around him
in the distance, like a hasty painting.
He turns his head as she approaches, the light shining off his eyes, a glint that makes Mara drop her gaze as she settles down beside him on the ground. She doesn’t speak and he doesn’t press.
He has a datapad in his hand, but he holds it loosely, his face slanted upwards. She tries to read what it says without appearing obvious, but the angle makes it too oblique. He shifts, perhaps at her silence, and the words appear, the spaces between the dark letters suddenly visible. She scans and it’s nothing of interest, but in the margins he’s drawn sketches of the skyline and flat plains of curving lines, like the desert.
He glances at her, the curve of his smile catching the light and casting no shadows. She watches him. He picks up the stylus, draws a ridiculously simplified sun above the plains, little waves emanating from the center. Adds dots – windows – to the skyline, and small light lines, separating them into buildings, but drawn askew.
She looks away briefly, then looks back at him, watching the stillness of the light and shadows on his face. She takes the other end of the stylus, and he lets go. She leans over, corrects the lines by overlaying them with darker, thick ones, scratches out the sun over the desert. She draws crescents like moons, and fills the rest with black, leaving tiny spots of white for the stars. Luke snatches the stylus back, creates domed buildings on the desert, with little windows shining warmth. Then he shifts to another part of the margins, and draws a detailed X-Wing.
She draws a Star Destroyer with the stolen stylus just because. He grabs it back, draws a bantha, twice the size and ready to stomp. She responds by drawing wings with a flourish, and Luke shakes silently for a moment. Sitting close to him, she feels every tremble as the slightest touch. He becomes motionless, then his head falls forward, with the faint blond of his hair suddenly catching the shifting light.
She waits a moment, her red hair like fire as it drifts in the wind, falling over her face. Then she expands on the moons and stars, creating more between the text, black fleets twining all over, more of an abstract design. Hands the stylus over. Luke is silent. He draws lines around them, lines full of white and bland text, following her path exactly.
The sun falls behind a building, casting a shadow over them and the datapad screen. Luke blanks it back to solid white, and hands it and the stylus over to her. Her chest tightens as she furiously scratches the white with black.
She drops the datapad at his feet and walks away.