AN: Okay... it's been FOREVER since I wrote anything at all because my muse has been AWOL since January. But, someone told me to try writing drabbles to see if it will come back. So, here you go. I guess I'll just make a collection of them and post them as I write them. Most of them won't be interrelated, I don't think. I'm not sure. I've never done this before. But, anyhow, at least I'm writing SOMETHING.
She wished she could say that he looked peaceful when he slept in the early morning, the bright beams of light playing with the shadows on his face as the sun rose. Maybe the sunrise would help to lighten his ever somber mood. Or, perhaps the soft light coming through the window would give him a more vulnerable appearance despite the dangerous-looking scar he so loathed across the bridge of his nose.
But, no. The sun would not rise on this perpetually dark world where they had run to so many years ago. Days were marked by the movements of the stars in the sky. And the shadows would stay on his face, never lightening, much like the shadows on his heart.
So, until a time came when they could leave this world and see the sunrise again, she would be his sunrise. Dressed in brightly colored clothing to lighten the ever dark world, she would try to lift the shadows from his life, reminding him there was a reason to live.
And, much like the sunrise, she would brighten the room in the early morning, in spite of the fact that he had told her repeatedly that he liked to sleep in on the weekends. So, with the practiced grace of a ninja, she attacked.
"Squall! It's time to get up! It's nearly seven o'clock!"
She never saw the pillow coming as it hit her on the head, but she did hear his grumbled response as he rolled over and burrowed beneath the blankets.
But, that was okay. After all, she was the sunrise and she would be back the next morning to wake him again.