A/N: Written for the drabblefix comm on LiveJournal. Prompt was "scent"
Impossibility
Cyan hunts for flowers for hours at a time. When he finally finds a bloom, he tells himself that the threat of botanical extinction is tantamount to a lonely girl's lovesick tears.
He plucks it.
He rubs petals against parchment, hoping the scent will distract her from this new earth's stink of loneliness and death, dust and rot. He remembers the smell of engine grease, machinery; sometimes, he actually misses it.
He figures it's not so terrible, now, to try and be someone you're not. Dedication to honor transforms itself; he wants to keep hope alive, regardless of the consequence.