Weekly creativity challenge for writers and artists! Original and fandom pursuits both welcome.
September - The Beatles - That Which is Ours - Original
Fandom: Original
Title: That Which is Ours
Rating: G
Summary: Love under and over the masks they wear.
Yesterday
Yesterday. She wasn't a different person yesterday, nor is she a different person today, even if she smiles differently, catching her mouth at it whenever she glances his way for too long.
Skylight is a dagachiet covert operative. She knows how to keep her heart off her face.
But he keeps catching her eye, laughing under his breath at Bridge's disparaging commentary as they reeceive their next mission, twiddling a pencil in his hands, waiting for Wolf to tell him what to do with it.
And Skylight keeps watching him, almost smiling before catching herself, because yesterday, he became hers.
Dancer
She isn't a dancer, for all she knows how to dance. Skylight mastered her body a long time ago when she was still a little girl. She knows how far she can push and stretch it. She knows how to hide war under beauty, efficiency under grace.
But this moment spinning in Math's arms—because they're collecting intelligence at a party and there's dancing—is worth every moment she forced her kicks to point and her arms to move in ways that would get her killed in a fight.
She isn't a dancer, but she loves to dance with him.
Ride
They catch a ride on a back road from a local farmer, chatting their gratitude in the local tongue. Math helps Skylight climb up in the back of the truck and she pulls him up behind her with a laugh after. They smile at each other. He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear out of the wind.
This isn't them, backpackers in a back country with nothing to fear.
He slides fingers around hers and watches eagle-eyed the spaces she can't see as they ride, watching her back. She leans her head on his shoulder. This is them.
Free
They've fought hard and dirty, but they've won their freedom.
When Skylight finds him, she's covered in dirt and sweat and gunpowder and ash. She drops into a crouch beside him as he finishes disarming the charges another operative had set.
He asked her months ago, and it had taken her breath away to answer yes, but they've haven't actually done anything about it just yet, and for once in her life, she's impatient with waiting.
"Steady," she says, fingers brushing gently over his neck, warm skin telling her he's alive.
Math looks up, questioning.
"We can get married now."
Lonely
She's waiting for him to come home to her.
She and Math have been sent to other sides of cities, countries, even the world to do their missions and she's always known they had each other's back and would see each other again. It's never felt like an ache as she waits in the dusk for his person to follow his words, "Be there soon."
"You miss him?" her adopted mother asks, waiting with her. "I always get lonely when my husband's away."
Skylight blinks. That's exactly what this feeling is, foreign but not entirely unwelcome. Yes. "I miss him."



