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Series are multiple stories that go together; the order they are listed in on the tables of contents and directory pages are their chronological orders within the universe, not the order they were written or posted in. A tilde (~) denotes an original fiction series, while an abbreviation such as HP denotes a fanfiction series.

Yu-Gi-Oh! Fanfiction: Loss

TITLE: Loss
CHAPTER: 1 – Oneshot
AUTHOR: Lythande ( setosgirl0 / neferseti0 / Ankh Ascendant )
DATE: 8-22-11
FANDOM: Yu-Gi-Oh
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own YGO, or make any money from it.
PAIRINGS: canon Pegasus/Cynthia
TYPE: angst
RATING: PG
WARNINGS: none
OCs: none
BETA: none
WORDS: ~800
SUMMARY: Pegasus loses what he didn’t even think he had left.

* * *

Loss

Pegasus stepped out into the garden, blinking a couple times in the unexpected brightness of the sunlight. The warm air and the gentle breeze were inviting, though, and carried the scent of mingled roses and wildflowers to him. He stepped down onto the path and paused a moment, simply letting the sunlight warm him for a moment before his feet carried him on down the path.

He wasn’t expecting to see anyone here, and when he wandered around a corner and found a teenaged girl sitting on a bench it gave him pause. She looked up at him with a sweet smile, though, and he couldn’t help but smile back, and joined her when she made room on the bench.

“Hello,” she said, folding her hands in the lap of her frilly dress and looking at him curiously, but with a self-assured, pleasant smile.

“Hello,” he greeted in turn as he settled beside her, casually crossing his legs. Not that she seemed to need his cues to be relaxed. “I wasn’t expecting to find anyone else here.”

“I’m waiting here for my boyfriend.” She twirled a strand of luxurious golden hair around her fingers in a contrivedly-unconscious gesture. “He’s coming to meet me.”

“Is he now,” Pegasus asked indulgently.

She nodded with a coy smile, and lifted a heart-shaped locket from her chest, prying open the metal case to show him the picture inside. “This is him.” He glanced at it with more politeness than real interest, seeing a photograph of the pretty girl before him and a soft-looking teenaged boy holding her hand and watching her with puppy dog eyes. They looked completely into each other in that picture… ever-so-dramatic childish infatuation at its finest.

“Isn’t he so cute?” She smiled down at the picture again, then closed it and looked at him. “I love him. He asked me to marry him, and I said yes… We’re going to be married just as soon as we can.”

He smiled, trying to disguise his amusement. “Don’t you think you’re a little young for that?”

“No.” A toss of her head threw her hair over her shoulder, and she looked at him defiantly. “We’ve known each other forever… We’re meant to be together. I can feel it.” Her hand rested dramatically over her heart. There was a flashy gold-and-cubit-zirconia ring on her finger, he saw. “It doesn’t matter if everyone thinks that we’re young, we’re soulmates.”

“I’m sure you’re madly in love,” he said placatingly.

She didn’t seem to hear the patronization inherent in his words. “We are,” she agreed simply, and caressed the ring with her opposite hand.

He watched her, glowing with happiness and the uncomplicated excitement of adolescent love in her own little world. Such a child, playing at grown-up things…

In a moment he reached out to snap a nearby rose from its bush. “Well, I hope he won’t be too jealous,” he said, and offered it to her. “A flower for a lovely lady.”

Her eyes lit up, and she blushed an adorable pink as she accepted it. “Thank you,” she said, and dropped her eyes with feigned bashfulness.

He couldn’t help another small, indulgent smile. She wasn’t a bad person… just a shallow, unconsciously vain, endearingly idealistic and still immature girl who thought she was an adult. She had a lot of growing up to do, but she had a good heart, he could see, and in a few years she would probably mature into a good woman. When she found her true love she’d probably look back on her teenaged romance with amusement and embarrassment. Why not let her enjoy it now?

“I’m going to go look for him.” She tucked the flower into her long hair as she stood up, and then gave him a smile. “Good-bye.”

“Good luck.”

She picked up her impractical skirt and swept off down the path without looking back.

The last glimpse of her golden hair had disappeared around a hedge before he realized who she was. All of the warmth and color drained from the daylight, and he staggered to his feet. “Cyndia…”

The dark world seemed to tilt and throw him off as he begged for her to wait.

* * *

“No…”

He struggled with the bedclothes and tumbled gracelessly onto the stone floor, panting. He hardly noticed. It wasn’t important.

“No, I haven’t outgrown you…”

He turned his face up to the painting that hung on his wall. His teenaged love’s face smiled benevolently down on him, dreamily half-visible in the moonlight. She was just a girl… Just a girl, and he wasn’t the boy who had worshiped her in a photo, or bought her the ring she was buried with…

Even if they met again…

He reached up toward the portrait and leaned his forehead against the hard wall, struggling not to give in and cry as the realization of loss cut him again, as deeply as it had the day she died.

~end~

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