RedGreen

The summer rains were here, dampening and shrouding the clear heavens in tumbling vapours, hanging over rooftops and glowing as white marble against the darkening sky. The rest a dove grey, with a subtle hint of rose and lilac, symbolising the incoming sunrise over the horizon.

 

Soft tendrils of hazy sunlight fell through the window, flowing and ebbing through the curtain softly floating in the gentle breeze, crisscrossing in patterns across the floor. Green’s eyes are locked onto the corner of the room, where a dark grey shadow is cast across the wall, creating an obscene pattern that quivers and shakes through the trees outside his home.

 

Slowly his vision shifts, moving to the other side of the bed and focusing on its occupant. His stomach seems to tingle as he opens his mouth, slightly hoarse, “Hey… Red… you awake?”

 

Nothing happens for a moment, not that Green really expected anything too, Red can sleep like the dead when he came back from another long strip from Mount Silver, curled up in stolen covers, face buried deep into the pillow, breathing softly, chest rising rhythmically.

 

The sunlight drips through the window now, signifying the beginning of the day, and flows, softly like a gentle wave, hitting against Red’s silhouette and igniting the chestnut undertones of his hair. Red with that unruly mop of hat hair, and deep brown eyes that when they caught the light, they echoed his namesake. As Green trails his eyes over his fiance, taking in all the subtleties of him, he can’t but notice the bruises littered across his skin like a dusting of stars, and the scars strew across his skin in patterns from his unforgiving years at the peak.

 

Green reaches out to Red’s hand, thumb and forefingers tracing the back of his knuckles before turning it over, laying their hands together, fingers aligning and breaking the gentle curl. Red’s hands radiate a gentle heat, roughen from battle, but Green loves them. He loves the way they fit perfectly together, almost as if they are made for each other. Red’s fingers twitch, a gentle movement before they curled and intertwined with Green’s squeezing softly, a subconscious gesture as Red is still yet to wake.

 

It’s pleasantly warm now, and he can hear the pipes whistle away in his walls, and the breeze blowing strongly through the window, bringing in the sounds and calls of Pokemon waking up, and for awhile it seems like their apartment is singing to him.

 

He smiles for no reason. A curious, disarming expression, and he turns his gaze back to Red, finding solace and comfort in the contours of his face.

 

Even after the years, they’ve been together; Green is still not used to Red to sleeping next to him, calmly, comfortably, like this is the only place in the universe he can call home. Red sleeps deeply; most nights curled heavily around Green, feathery eyelashes fluttering as he breathed in and out, face buried deeply into his nape, protecting Green even in his sleep.

 

Green likes to turn over in the middle of the night and tuck up against him, forehead pressed into the curve of Red’s shoulder, listening to the lull of Red’s heartbeat until he fell into oblivion, crimson tones staining the back of his eyelids as he breathes.

 

What Green loves about being with Red like this is that he feels completely comfortable around him. With Red, there’s never the feeling that world might collapse in on itself tomorrow, no pretending he’s someone else, completely unguarded and so, so safe and secure. With Red, he never has the feeling that he’s alone.

 

Green knew with his eyes closed the exact location of each and everyone one of Red’s scars, could reiterate the stories beneath him as he trailed his fingers over them, imprinting them to memory. He knew of the burn mark Charizard gave him on his shoulder and the discolouration across his chest from one of Mewtwo’s psychic attacks.

 

Green frowns to himself, eyeing the knot of purple and crimson that spreads angrily like vines against the pale skin, and brings Red’s hand up to his mouth, pressing it against his lips. Green gently kisses the tips of each of his fingers, trailing down the knuckles and over the tendons of the back of his hand, etching love into skin and apologies into his skin with his lips.

 

There’s a change in the way Red breathes, and Green knows he’s woken him up. He might feel guilty for it later, but he can’t bring himself too when he nuzzles his face against the inside of Red’s wrist, pressing his face against it, feeling the light fluttering of Red’s quickening pulse.

 

Nothing happens for a moment, Red hazily bringing his free hand to pull floppy strands of hair out of Green’s eyes, but the intensity pulses and stretches between them like electricity, white-hot and burning. Red gives him a lazy, content smile, wrapping his arm around Green in pulling him close.

 

Green smiles against Red’s collarbone, “Hey sleepy head, I missed you.”