Title- Purple Flowers
Author- Locura
Warnings- OOC, AU? Strange
Disclaimer- The Weiß Kreuz chara's aren't mine
Author Notes- I'm editing all my stuff though.it might not change too much since grammar is not a strong suite. An old story I found onetime in one of my folders. Written before Gluhen was out. Hope you enjoy!
***
He looked at his hands. Seeing for once how worn and scarred as they had become, clutching a small fist full of purple Garden Hyacinth in one and the other tracing them absentmindedly.
The person at the casher was young. A bit older then he may have been when he first started. A Granddaughter, he thought, perhaps of the old owner of the 'Kitty In the House'.
No, she wasn't. Couldn't have been in any case.
He knew that and regretted thinking she may have been the moment it had materialized.
Young and happy. Young and happy, that's how she was. Her hair flipped out to the sides of her face, dark brown and streaked with blue and red, her blue-brown eyes shining with the light only innocence could have.
He smiled sadly to himself. He wished they'd stayed. He would have loved to see them again.
But they didn't stay.
'And why would they?' His mind mocked him. 'You were the one to betray them....'
He shook his head and paid for the flowers and turned to go. He needn't stay any longer now, much to late to wait for a reunion that would never come.
The street was nearly empty when he left, the sun setting down into the horizon. He was almost gone when he heard the monocycle. Almost gone when he felt an arm grab his. Almost non-existent when he was pulled away, and dragged down the street by the motorcyclist. A person he'd known too well for pain and tears in the past years.
And they still wouldn't know. Couldn't have seen because they were down stairs. Hearing about the information for a mission once again.
As the purple flowers fell from the opened hand, and blew down the street.
As the twenty year old, who was so much older in the eyes, hated himself for giving up again and as the cycle of despair began again.
They still wouldn't know. Too wrapped up in their lives to see what had happened to the fourth. Too careless to notice even when he was right in front of them.
Even when he wanted to explain.
Even when glossy blue eyes assaulted them later that night.
Even when a stick of Garden Hyacinth lay in front of the shop that night, as if begging for forgiveness from beyond the grave.
~*~ Garden Hyacinth (Purple) I Am Sorry Please Forgive Me, Sorrow
Author- Locura
Warnings- OOC, AU? Strange
Disclaimer- The Weiß Kreuz chara's aren't mine
Author Notes- I'm editing all my stuff though.it might not change too much since grammar is not a strong suite. An old story I found onetime in one of my folders. Written before Gluhen was out. Hope you enjoy!
***
He looked at his hands. Seeing for once how worn and scarred as they had become, clutching a small fist full of purple Garden Hyacinth in one and the other tracing them absentmindedly.
The person at the casher was young. A bit older then he may have been when he first started. A Granddaughter, he thought, perhaps of the old owner of the 'Kitty In the House'.
No, she wasn't. Couldn't have been in any case.
He knew that and regretted thinking she may have been the moment it had materialized.
Young and happy. Young and happy, that's how she was. Her hair flipped out to the sides of her face, dark brown and streaked with blue and red, her blue-brown eyes shining with the light only innocence could have.
He smiled sadly to himself. He wished they'd stayed. He would have loved to see them again.
But they didn't stay.
'And why would they?' His mind mocked him. 'You were the one to betray them....'
He shook his head and paid for the flowers and turned to go. He needn't stay any longer now, much to late to wait for a reunion that would never come.
The street was nearly empty when he left, the sun setting down into the horizon. He was almost gone when he heard the monocycle. Almost gone when he felt an arm grab his. Almost non-existent when he was pulled away, and dragged down the street by the motorcyclist. A person he'd known too well for pain and tears in the past years.
And they still wouldn't know. Couldn't have seen because they were down stairs. Hearing about the information for a mission once again.
As the purple flowers fell from the opened hand, and blew down the street.
As the twenty year old, who was so much older in the eyes, hated himself for giving up again and as the cycle of despair began again.
They still wouldn't know. Too wrapped up in their lives to see what had happened to the fourth. Too careless to notice even when he was right in front of them.
Even when he wanted to explain.
Even when glossy blue eyes assaulted them later that night.
Even when a stick of Garden Hyacinth lay in front of the shop that night, as if begging for forgiveness from beyond the grave.
~*~ Garden Hyacinth (Purple) I Am Sorry Please Forgive Me, Sorrow