It was nothing special. Just a faded envelope with the curvilinear loops of his name written on the side. A faint aroma of lilies-her favorite- that lingered on the paper; almost as if she had written it just yesterday.
Cloud,
Just leave the planet to me, okay.
-Aerith
He didn't know what compelled him to do it, to read over memories. Later that night he sat at his desk, pen in his right hand and paper in front of him, he wrote:
Aerith,
I did…and look where we ended up.
-Cloud
His letter didn't smell of lilies, or roses, or any other type of flower he couldn't name (but of course sheprobablycould). No. His smelt of anger, frustration, and pain. His smelt of blood.
Just wanted to try something a little different and angsty, for some reason i've had a recent obsession with angst... 0_o *GASP* Any way reviews are appreciated, critism is allowed, flames will be ignored. Hope you enjoyed it!
