Mono no aware
She was like a flower.
Long, lush eyelashes rested against soft, pearl-white skin; a gentle, pink blush covered the tender curves of her cheeks and a small, pouty mouth opened but left no sound. Slowly, her body gained movement and beautiful eyes were revealed. They weren't focused, but they were sparkling with life, burning with an energy that made his heart skip a beat.
Her face was like a painted canvas, every inch of her skin seeming more perfect than the other. However, just like a work of art, her face was frozen in that perpetual look of detachment. Detached from the world. From the people. From reality.
But she wasn't a painting; she moved.
Her head moved to the side, she blinked. She was returning to this world, to him.
She had moved, she lived.
"Kyoya…" her voice was hoarse so her soft, thin hand moved to touch her throat, to clear the sound that left her. "How are you?"
He leaned in to touch her face with his lips, letting a moment of tender romance settle in. He held her gently, softly and kept her there, against him for a few minutes. He inhaled her scent deeply; like always, she smelt like the sweet cherry blossoms that she had always loved and forced him to watch with her. This little reminder made all those fond memories come to life, made his heart burst with warmth. He remembered the way she looked as a child or even the way she turned him into the man she was now.
"I'm fine."
It was short, simple and informative. It was typical of him, so typical that her lips finally cracked into a small smile.
"You're always—" she coughed hard, harder and harder, until the blood came out and stained the white shirt he wore. She panicked, lost her composure immediately and began to fuss over the useless cloth. "S-Sorry, your clothes! I-"
He didn't care.
His fingers moved to touch her cheek, to trail down her skin and to wipe her blood away. They finally reached her chin, rising her face to meet his eyes. She had become human again, her cheeks had regained colors, redder with the feeling of shame. She was mortified to be so weak, to have fallen so low, to have become something else than the strong, independent girl she used to be.
But it was fine.
"…Kyoya."
He silenced her with one meaningful look and proceeded to give her the little pills that controlled her life. That kept her alive.
It was the law of nature.
She sighed. "I'm so tired."
The white capsules were swallowed. She closed her eyes, resting against him. He didn't hold her. He never did. But he knew she was scared. She was scared of dying, of leaving him but she tried to remain distant so it would be easier for him.
Every flower...
He stayed silent, trying to remember every little thing that made her what she was; he wanted to keep her in him, to keep that ephemeral existence as his. She was his, from head to toes, from inside out. She was with him, always.
…withers.