After Autumn
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:'- It was autumn and she was everywhere –':
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He didn't really know what she saw in autumn; it wasn't hot, it wasn't cold, it wasn't colorful, it made you spend hours gathering leaves to be thrown away, it was simply boring; . . And yet, she still saw something in it, something so grandiose that her eyes would sparkle whenever a red leaf would fall from the skies.
It seemed the world would change every time it was autumn, not because of the season itself, oh, no, not at all; it was because of her. She just loved it so much; the golden of the landscape, the cold, yet so gentle breeze, the scarf on her neck and the softness of the sunrays.
She had such a passion for it that he'd hated autumn once, having the solid impression that it meant more to her than he himself. It was a silly thought though, he'd come to realize later. Because autumn was her happiness; she was autumn.
And so he learned to love it too, because he loved her.
It wasn't a lie to say that autumn had a magic of its own. The enchantment was there, always so present, within the brilliance in her eyes, in the smoothness of the clouds, and he just couldn't avoid it. He was lost in her world already; a world of tender winds and endless melody, where they would enjoy the sound of the tram and make plans for the future – their future.
The city would be painted with beige and they'd dance through red leaves, leaves that she – they – loved so much. And they would sing, and they would laugh, and their smile would compete with the firmament. The air could be chilly and the streets deserted, but they didn't mind, oh they didn't at all.
Because that was simply, purely love.
And it just felt so right to lie on the extended fields of yellow and have autumn – with its tresses of red foliage and eyes of deep skies – by his side. It felt right to hear her voice on his neck, her soft hands in his, her smell of nature.
…It felt so right that he'd asked himself if that was real…
And it was real, it was, for he was sure he wasn't dreaming when they whispered words of love and made promises to the wind. It wasn't a dream when their fingers entwined and it also wasn't a dream – even though it looked like it – when she told him she would never, ever leave his side.
It wasn't a dream, but he wished it was.
Because he believed.
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And he was a fool from the very beginning, for he knew autumn couldn't be there forever.
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The spell was breaking away.
He didn't want to let go, no, he didn't. He didn't want to let go of the warming sun and lazy mornings. He didn't want to say goodbye to the magic, not yet - not ever…
…But time wouldn't stop for him, it wouldn't, and calm breezes were replaced by ice just as the air became cold. The once bright, scarlet leaves dissolved into water and the beautiful scenery of gold paled to empty white. The harshness of the new season froze the music and she was going away.
Eyes of deep skies closed and melodic voice died in a violent cough of blood.
They just wanted it to last forever; . . why couldn't it?
That was just the way nature worked.
… And it felt so unreal he didn't want to see it.
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He didn't want to see it but it was still the truth.
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For winter had come…
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… And he had to say goodbye to autumn.
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Wow, this is so short! Hm, the idea was to make Kairi die of tuberculosis – even though I didn't express it very well.
Thanks for reading
:D