#just a realllly old drabble from an ancient acc i'm reposting

[thepayloadisgay]

Zenyatta turned to his friend, feeling him shift position yet again, the hiss of his joints breaking the strained silence. The poised fingers at his knees relaxed, and the orbs that hovered rolled inward, settling around his neck with a pleasant chime.

“There is a disquiet within you today,” said the monk as he watched Genji shift onto his knees. “Actually, ever since Overwatch recalled you.”

A quiet sigh, as Genji straightened his back and placed his hands atop his thighs, moving each finger one by one, trying hard to centre his balance and thoughts.

“Do you regret rejoining?” asked Zenyatta as he watched his student struggle with what he usually found so easy. “I know working alongside your brother -”

“It's not Hanzo,” he interrupted, breaking his posture as the vents in his shoulders moved, hissed and coiled a swathe of steam, disturbing his ribbon. “It’s Angela.”

Zenyatta tilted his head to the side, watching the unsteady fingers of his student roll over his thighs as he re-attempted his pose. “Dr Ziegler? Is she alright?”

Genji smirked as looked ahead, his ribbon settling at his back. “She is well,” he said, spreading hands over his thighs once more. Genji remained still for a while and breathed in, out, letting the silence of their makeshift meditation room in new HQ embrace him. And with it he closed his eyes, but all he could see, was her. “I think I’m in love.”

The orbs by Zenyatta’s neck shifted, making a gentle hum as the omnic’s face shifted to mimic a human’s smile. “I could have told you that, Genji.”

Genji faltered, disrupting the rhythm of his pose. Eyes narrowed from the midday sun, voice elevated in question. “You knew?”

Zenyatta rested his hands atop his knees, pinching two fingers together slowly, and laughed. “You are different whenever you speak of her - in a good way. Your voice changes, your mannerisms shift,” he said as the orbs extended around his head and began to hover. “And when you are around her, when you look at her for a moment when she smiles, you forget.”

Genji stared at his hand, at his wrist, bound in a small yellow ribbon. 

“You forget. Because all you see is her.”

He turned to Zenyatta, staring as he hovered a foot off the ground, a perfect picture of peace. “What should I do?”

“Tell her.”