Marluxia hates cherry blossoms.
It is the one flower that he could never get to grow in the Realm of Darkness. Not even a leaf, or a stalk.
Dead earth.
So as he watches over the woman in Hollow Bastion, tending ever so carefully to that one cherry blossom tree, he can't help but feel a loathing for her. He wants to kill her, make sure she could never escape the shadows, never be able to grow another flower again…
"Aeerith! Aeeerith—Whoa, that pink dress of yours really blends in. I almost didn't see ya!"
As another girl runs in, the woman straightens up and he can see her face. A slender long face, a slight smile, strands of hair blowing gently against her face.
It's because she's so beautiful that he finds himself hating her more.
Hate, loathe, rage, despise…
And he can feel it, like a p o i s o n, filling that empty hole in his chest until it's overflowing…
Was this what it felt like to "have" a heart?
Then he doesn't want one.
—
It's only minutes before he should…will go to Castle Oblivion.
But he comes back anyway.
The cherry tree has grown taller, tentative blossoms starting to show. Its branches are its wings. He traces his hand against the trunk, feeling its cracks, its strength, its life.
He could kill it right now.
He could kill it, shatter it to pieces, like
a mirror. Beyond his vision he can
see it, the pieces falling down, one
by one, glittering in the sun until the mirage
is gone, the reflection has died and there's
nothing
left. Sno-snort.
He jumps.
So caught was he in the web of fantasy…he didn't see her.
Under the shade of the branches, sleeping (and snoring quite loudly) is the flower girl. (She's a funeral girl, tending to something that'll only d i e after the beauty is outgrown.)
He steps back into a shadow as she moves and rolls over to her other side.
She's facing him.
(Bump. Bump. Bump. Bump. The clock inside him is tickingtickingticking and he should be going…)
And suddenly he feels like he's in a fairytale.
Ethereal, it's all too e t h e r e a l…
(It's like he's Cinderella and she's Sleeping Beauty.)
But who to save? He's only running away
running and running and running
and he'll never stop because there'll never
be magic. He's nothing nothing nothing
nothing nothing…
…Nobody.
But she…
She's like a princess.
She's beautiful. She luminescent, shining with the light of stars, the light of the moon, the light of everything around her because she's the center, she's it, she's the one.
And he hates her for it.
(The mirror shatters and the pieces fall down…what an ugly reflection. How dirty, how unattractive, how foul, how repelling how monstrous…What a useless reflection.)
Her eyes flutter a bit and suddenly, it's a slap in the face, a w a k e from a dream.
(Ticktockticktock…Go to your castle, milord. Go go go run away…)
He's gone before she's even opened her eyes.
Pity. He never saw what colour her eyes were.
—
AN: For Mahouuu! Haha, this is actually kinda more Anti-Xiarith isn't it...Meh, I was bored so I played around with structuring. And damn, I made Marluxia into a jealous girl.
For the Prompt Forum[Found on my profile
