Incompletion
an A:TLA fanfic by tobu ishi

]o[

And they suppose that when the great love stories of this tumultuous age are tallied up and immortalized by generations to follow, it will be said of them, Lovers in this callow time take notice, for he was her eyes, and she was his feet.

And this, as he might put it, is kinda ironic--or as she might say, it is a crock of shit--or in the simplest of terms it is a profound insult, because what does she need less than eyes, or he than feet?

There is nothing capable of substituting for the rush of raw bright freedom when his wings swallow the wind and leap, taut leather and canvas belling and snapping, pulling him after into the wide sky with outstretched arms and a whoop of primal exhilaration, except the moment when her hands first touched his face, scouting out and mapping the lines of his brows and cheekbones and mouth before her own mouth followed.

And there is nothing more deeply part of her than the ripples spilling out from each stamp of her bare calloused feet, filling in the world around her in textures multiple and glorious until she can run strong and fearlessly where she pleases, except the warmth of his body radiating gently into her when his arms are around her waist and his head resting on her shoulder, soft hair tickling her neck.

And what are her eyes to him but beautiful, those expressive features the color of smoked green glass? And what are his legs to her but a haven, a place to sit and be held without judgment or ever being made to feel small or weak?

So to hell with all the bright inspirational things their grandchildren's grandchildren will say about how they completed each other. Anyone who claims completion is the filling in of missing parts knows less than nothing about it.

He hopes, she hopes they will just say, truthfully, that there lived two warriors who found each other in a time of war, and found respect there, and understanding, and love.

There were once a man and a woman who made something good and true in the midst of hell.

What else is there to say?

]o[

A/N: Written for the "teoph" community on LiveJournal, for the prompt: "He was her eyes, and she his feet."