CosmicSon

‘He’s huge’ is her first thought.

Physically, he towers over her.  By several feet.  She should feel more threatened than she does.  But something beyond a physical interaction pushes her further.

For the first time, eyes truly meet.  Gold burns straight into lavender.  Any remaining confidence that she has is dissolved by a steady gaze.  

A mechanical hand reaches out as a peace offering.  ‘Shake his hand’, she thinks.  That’s what normal people do when meeting strangers.  Though calling him a stranger seems off.  It seems disingenuous.  

The piercing gold shifts from natural lavender to metallic yellow and black, and she panics.  ‘I offered the fake one’, she quickly thinks.

The look seems to last an eternity.  Thousands of thoughts race through her head.  ‘Imperfect’ and ‘failure’ and ‘let-down’ and ‘unreliable’ and ‘YOUR FAULT’ charge through her  consciousness.  She hasn’t been this hyper-aware in a long time.

An enormous hand grips the segments and servos.  She meets the scathing golden stare.  

The grip tightens.  

The judgement subsides.  

The enormous man before her.  His resolute golden gaze softens with…

tears?

Yes.  Tears.  It may not be obvious, but she can see the way the light shimmers before it actually reaches his eyes.  

There is a sudden force pulling her closer.  She finds herself in full contact with the man before her.

Flesh still gripping steel, he pulls her in as much as he can.  An enormous arm completely envelopes her.  It is both terrifying and comforting, and she doesn’t really know how to react.  

She doesn’t entirely understand why, but she closes her eyes and wraps her other hand, her hand, around him, and returns the tight grip he has on the artificial limb.

She holds the giant in her arms for what seems like hours.  Her eyes inch open, and she looks at the woman standing as close as she can to their embrace.

‘They look so similar”, she thinks.  

There is sadness in the woman’s eyes, but it seems to be at war with an indescribable happiness.  The smile on her face conflicts with the way she holds her pierced ears so close to her head.  The light shimmers before it reaches her eyes, too.  She is also crying.

There is a new pressure, causing her to inch ever closer to the behemoth that is currently holding her.  Knowingly or not, the man gently runs his hand along the length of the metal that makes up the prosthetic. 

His fingers of flesh return to those of metal, and then he finally speaks.  

He shifts his weight and grasps both of her shoulders in a firm but comforting grip.

Instinctively, she copies the motion, though her palms don’t come close to his shoulders, instead ending up resting about halfway between his wrists and his elbows.

For what feels like the hundredth time, gold meets lavender, and gold breaks down.

He finally speaks through ever-more-noticeable tears.