drabble #2

[oath_breaker]

Drabble, Lea & Sora, canon verse
Set pre-kh3
Friendship, as a double-edged sword

Lea's new to all this, so he figures it's why he's the only one who can see the way Sora has everyone wrapped around his fingers, like he'd tried to play cat's cradle and decided to keep the red string forever. 

 

Sora whines and hedges and sings please please please pretty please and Kairi sighs fondly and gives him an extra stack of pancakes; Riku rolls his eyes and lets Sora cradle his head in Riku's lap for a nap. Donald and Goofy have long since given up any pretense that they ever said no in the first place.

 

It's a good thing the boy is sweet, Lea thinks. He'd ruin them otherwise, with his sun bright eyes and laughter like fond memories, iridescent and real. He sees the heart in everything, or that's what it feels like because when Sora looks at him, Lea feels real.

 

He sees the reflection of green eyes and fire and loyalty burning hotter than the sun and he feels there, complete, alive and steady. Sora grabs his forearm and demands Lea spin his keyblade to make a wheel of fire and it asks nothing of Lea to make it come true.

 

He still avoids Sora at sunset, because memories are not always painless, but every other moment he's swept up in the riptide of Sora's whims. Ice cream before breakfast and practicing combined attacks Sora dreamed of the night prior.

 

Sora is boyish summer delight. Sora reminds Lea of when he'd been young enough to blow on dandelions and chase them on the wind. Sora was scraped knees and bandaged fingers and sweat mingled with fruit on lazy afternoons, Sora makes Lea remember a time he'd forgotten.

 

It's not until Riku gives Lea a funny face, a cross between amused, exasperated, unsurprised, and fond that finally tips Lea off to why everyone lets Sora tug them along like paper maiche streamers because now he's doing the same.

 

It's invigorating, exciting, it's the old adage of how children keep you young. Sora's delight is infectious and heady and Lea craves it like flowers do sunlight, because Sora's acceptance is a balm for old scars and new wounds. Sora's magnetism keeps everyone's hope buoyed.

 

When Sora says "Anything for a friend," spinning his keyblade to pass the handle to Lea, he doesn't seem to notice the rising swell of pain in Lea's throat. 

 

Funny, he thinks, how you never stop mourning. He's never given up on bringing his friends back, but the promise of something new with new laughter and new jokes and new 'same as always?'s and new hopes gives Lea the relief of a breath of fresh air. 

 

Making new friends is good, Lea thinks, as he tentatively finds his footing between them all.

 

It's a good thing Sora is sweet, because Lea can't bear another betrayal.