A/N: Just an odd, drabblish piece that's been teasing at my mind for the past few days, unlike the sweet n' fluffy stuff I usually produce this time of the year. Anyway, Happy Valentine's Day!


Roses

It was February, grey and cold. There was only a light dusting of snow on the ground, but an icy wind whipped over the knoll where she waited for him.

The shadows had lengthened and the sun had nearly set by the time he came.

"I'm sorry I'm late, my love." He bowed his head slightly as he came to stand in front of her. His hands, clasped in front of him, clutched a bouquet of red roses.

She said nothing.

"I couldn't get anyway any earlier," he said apologetically. "It's been a terribly busy day." He sighed and shook his head slightly. "Life never slows down, does it? Not even for a single moment."

She didn't reply, but he sat down on the ground beside her, though he was dressed in his finest suit. "I brought you these flowers," he said, as though he had just remembered. He held out the bouquet in front of him. "Roses. Your favorite, I remember."

He leaned over and laid the bouquet on her lap. "Two of the most beautiful things in the world," he said softly. "Roses and you."

In the silence, a cold wind blew and he shivered. "It's been a long, bitter winter," he said. "Snow and ice and grey skies. No flowers, nothing soft, or bright, or living. Everything white, and grey, and dead. And no sign of spring in sight."

There was no sound but the wind whistling over the grass-bare knoll.

He looked down. "I'm sorry we didn't have more time together, my love." He slowly got to his feet. "Happy Valentine's Day. Enjoy the roses." He turned and slowly walked away.

She watched him leave, a long, red shadow in the bleak grey and white of the cemetery. She smiled softly, sadly. "I love you, Max."