Work Text:
Darcy wanders farther into the garden. A loose weave ocher afghan shields her from the opposing heat of the sun and chill of the breeze.
She stands out against the lush green garden--a vision of cream white and vibrant yellow. She’s his sun, moon, and stars.
Steve calls her by name to join him in the shade of the bungalow’s porch he’s claimed as a temporary art space.
She wraps her arms around him, smiling and gushing over his latest drawing. She doesn’t notice that her words go unheard as she babbles. He holds her close, too distracted by the feeling of sunshine in his arms.
All of his dark times are worth their toil for moments like these.