White Roses, Red Roses, And Violets
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The song is "The Flower Seller" By O'Donoghue
Warnings: Mentions of homosexuality
Rating: Pg
Summery: Myde sits in the snow and remembers a broken tune after losing Braig.
AN: I wrote this at 1:56 AM, please pardon the dumb errors in it.
Myde remembered the tune from way before his life had been flipped upside down by the heartless. He remembered a boy and his sister singing it as they half danced down the street much to the shock of their proper parents. It was a sweet tune that told of a strange land and a sad girl that sang of love to others but lost her own. He would never forget that tune, or the way the boy easily tossed the white rose in his and Braig's direction even as others avoided them.
It had struck Myde as odd when the tune had resurfaced in his dreams. It was the dreams about the things he'd seen and done as the person he wasn't and it may be the only true dream that he clung to. Braig was still with him even then, but at the same time he wasn't Braig and he wasn't in love, no matter though they knew they were still in love. He dreamt about watching the same brother and sister, now older and colder dance and sing their sad song, and just as before with a careless hand and soft smile the brother threw a red rose to him and his lover.
Now the tune stuck in the back of his mind as he watched the people pass by on his own. No Braig or not-Braig to sit by him and hold him close on the snowy winter night. He wasn't sure how or why, all Myde knew was that after awakening from whatever had happened Braig had refused his love and begged him to leave. So here he sat, alone with only some faded memories and a broken tune to play on his sitar to comfort him.
"I can't even remember the words they were singing." He muttered plucking at the strings in the same repetitive motion he had been for the past hour. That was how it went, just one part of the song stood out in his mind and nothing more, so all he played was that one simple tune.
Sighing and resolving himself to play through the tune once more before heading home Myde's ears perked up as the words seemed to float through the crisp air.
"Red rose for new love, and white rose for true love, violets for love of the past."
The voice was a smooth tenor, one that he knew could sound cold and deadly as well as childish and sweet and as he looked up he already knew what he's see. Standing before Myde was a younger boy with wavy auburn hair and dark blue eyes, he was wrapped up in a too big sweater and too long scarf. He was a boy that had gone from a child, to a killer, to what seemed to be a lost boy but still he held in his hands what Myde needed to see. Violets.
Holding out the miracle of a bouquet to the musician Myde felt his heart lift as the boy before him spoke again.
"I'm sorry Demy, I wish I could make it better."
Tears in his eyes Myde, the former lover of Braig, the former Melodious Nocturne, the former number IX of Organization XIII, and the former lonely boy smiled. "You have, thank you Marly."
