Belong
She had never met a human as alone as him, and had never met a human as content with his lonesome state as him; but Cynthia was an idealist, and she liked to believe that even someone as jaded as Cyrus, even someone who had been betrayed so tragically by this world as him, did not belong in the surreal, swirling sea of darkness to which he had confined himself to.
Resistance
"I just want to take one photo, just one – is that so hard?" Cynthia grated, holding Cyrus's arm in a vicelike grip as she attempted to position the camera at the end of her outstretched arm.
Music
Despite some of the proposed healing properties associated with it, Cyrus would often dismiss music as an irrelevant pastime; it would remain a secret of his, however, that he perhaps enjoyed, on occasion, listening to Cynthia's piano playing, watching as her slender, pale fingers danced over the keys with fluid grace.
Birthday
The celebrations associated with merely becoming a year older continued to baffle Cyrus, but not as much as Cynthia's insistence on demanding whether he preferred a Palkia- or Dialga-shaped cake.
Secret
"No one must know about this – no one," Cyrus asserted as he very reluctantly let Cynthia force him towards the sickeningly childish swing set, to which Cynthia giggled, responding in her soft, teasing voice, "Don't worry, sweetheart, your secret's safe with me."
Delicate
He had often thought beauty to be another trivially valued concept of the human heart, but the sight of Cynthia silhouetted in the magenta and orange hues of Sunyshore's sunset aberrantly reminded him of the delicate charm of a lily: from her pale, unblemished skin to the river of glowing golden hair tumbling behind her, and the soft tone of her grey eyes – yes, outwardly delicate and serene like a lily, and yet both strong and fallible on the inside.
Meaning
"Your technique is flawless, but this is music, Cyrus; it has to have some meaning and feeling – try it again, this time without the metronome," she insisted, gently repositioning his hands over the piano's delicate ivory keys, and as he began the piece again, this time without the security of the metronome, Cyrus found himself surprisingly willing to give her respect of emotions some further consideration.
Motive
When Cynthia had finally persuaded him to go to the movies with her, he still made his incomprehension of the concept of horror movies quite clear (after all, what was the point in intentionally terrifying one's self?); he soon realised Cynthia's ulterior motives, however, when she quite obviously used particularly scary scenes as an excuse to cuddle closer to him.
Suspicion
As Cyrus turned the abominable thing over in his hands, he had no doubt of who had sent the stuffed teddy bear to his door, complete with an assortment of delicately flavoured chocolates; a crude gesture, but he found himself enjoying the nutritionally deficient food nonetheless.
Mask
If Cyrus asked Cynthia why she persisted in the pointless act of leaving her blonde hair drape over half her face, she would simply smile and say that she could see just fine out of one eye; it was only when he found her dozing in a lounge chair, a book left half open in her lap, that he gently lifted the lock of hair away from her face to discover her left eye drooped at the corner of its slender oval shape, and it was then that just for a second Cyrus felt his own finely-crafted mask wilt away.