A/N: I dislike lengthy author's notes.
Disclaimer: Spring Awakening= Not mine
Faded Flowers
Spring and Summer
Every other day
Ilse approached the graveyard for the first time since Wendla's funeral. She held a few flowers limply in her hands. They were limp and wilted, the last flowers left of the purple summer that had passed by. The chill of autumn could already be felt in the evening air.
Ilse sighed, knowing that she wouldn't be able to sleep outdoors for much longer. She would have to return to the artist's colony. She rubbed her arms, trying not to think and not to feel. Ever since Mortiz and Wendla had died and Melchoir had disappeared she had spent most of her time doing that, trying not to feel.
Her childhood friends were all gone. She was all that was left.
Whispering… There's a ghost in the moonlight
Sorrow doing a new Dance…
Through Her Bone
Through Her Skin
She closed her eyes. She could feel everything right then. All the pain, all the joy, all the everything. It had been so long since she'd felt anything at all. She had reached the graveyard. She went to Mortiz's grave without thinking. She knelt down, the flowers still limp in her hand. Ilse looked at the stone, read his name, and thought of the boy she'd known. Of everything he'd been. Of all he could have been.
She missed him.
Where I go, when I go there
No more weeping anymore
Only in and out your lips
The broken wishes, washing with them to shore
"Ilse?" A voice echoed through the cold of the graveyard. For one wild moment, she thought it was Mortiz, but she looked around to see a familiar figure silhouetted darkly against the setting sun.
"Melchior." She acknowledged him. She turned back to Mortiz's grave. She gathered the emotions she'd let out in the last minute and crammed them back inside the darkest corners of her heart. She let go of the withered flowers.
She started to get up, but Melchior knelt down beside her. He had some faded daises in his hand. She didn't look at him. He didn't look at her. They just sat there. Silent.
I believe
There is love in Heaven
I believe
All will be forgiven
"You've been away." Ilse said finally, feeling like he was waiting for her to say something.
"I couldn't stay here." He didn't look at her.
She smiled wanly, coldly. "Neither could Mortiz, apparently." She waited for his violent reaction. It never came.
"Or Wendla." Was all he said. His face was so pained when he said her name. It was then Ilse knew he had really loved Wendla Bergman.
"She wanted to stay." Ilse's words felt awkward, heavy in the air between them.
He sighed, glancing at her. "I know."
"Have you been back at all this summer?" Ilse tried to force the words that had just been said away.
Melchior chose to ignore her. "He really cared for you, Ilse." He was staring down at the faded daises he still held. "I know he did."
Ilse sighed. "I know that. All he ever had to do was say yes. He just never did." She watched as Melchior placed the withered Daisies beside the flowers she'd brought. The dead flowers looked sad and lonely in the gathering twilight.
"It's getting dark." Melchior didn't move.
"I can handle the dark." Ilse didn't move either.
"I know that." He looked at her. His eyes were dark with shadows, but steady.
She looked away, afraid he'd see the emotions she'd tried to lock away.
"It's just us now." Ilse leaned back, putting her weight on her hands so she could look at the sky.
"No." Melchior copied her position, his face turned to the sky. "They're still here." He put a pale hand over his heart.
Ilse said nothing, just continued to look up at the sky. The sun was fading, the stars were twinkling faintly. Finally she spoke. "I miss them, Melchi." Her voice was quiet and small. A child's voice.
He sighed, a soft, sad sound like the wind blowing through the field after a rain. "Me too."
There was more silence.
Mama the weeping
Mama the Angels
No Sleep in Heaven
Or Bethlehem
The sky was dark. The moon cast a faint silver light over everything. Ilse looked at Melchior. He was pale and colorless in the light cast by the moon. He looked like a ghost. Ilse reached out a hand to touch him, to make sure he was real. He grabbed her hand with one of his and held it. It was warm.
"What do we do now?" Her voice was still small, still unsure.
"I don't know." He looked at her, his eyes shadowed with something she couldn't read.
They sat there and the silence grew. Melchior didn't let go of her hand. She didn't try to make him.
"I don't want to be alone anymore." Melchior's voice punctured the stillness. He looked at her. His eyes were almost pleading.
Ilse didn't think before she spoke. She just answered automatically. "Neither do I."
They were silent once more. The hoot of an owl made them both jump. Ilse squeezed Melchior's hand then let it go, embarrassed.
He looked at her again. His eyes were kind. They had always been like that when he'd looked at her.
"Do you love me?" She found herself asking. She hadn't thought to speak the words. They had just kind of come out.
"No." His voice was soft. There was a pause. "But I think I could."
Ilse's heart didn't jump, no nervous excitement filled her. There was none of that. There was just this. "I could love you too."
They were silent once again. Melchior tentatively offered Ilse his hand. She took it without hesitation. Her helped her to her feet. They looked back at the grave behind them. The flowers mingled together. Ilse knew that, soon enough, they'd be dust too.
They left the cemetery hand-in-hand. Neither knew exactly where they were going. But both knew it would be together. And far away.
If they had looked back they might have seen the two figures, insubstantial as moonlight and just as pale, that stood side-by-side near the withered flowers. The smaller and more delicate of the two reached over to clasp a drooping daisy. The larger put a friendly arm around the smaller's shoulder. Then they turned and were lost in the moonlight.
I believe
I believe
I believe
Oh, I believe
A/N: That's it. Hope you liked it. Review, please!
