Author's Note: Heh heh, I thought the ending to this was REALLY cheesy but I guess it fit into the whole air thing... Anyway, this was kind of a challenge fic. Sort of... Not really... But someone gave me a one word challenge with no time limit so...yeah...maybe it counts. Heh heh. Well, I hope you all enjoy.
Disclaimer: Mmmm, would be nice. Maybe I'd kill off Donald Duck...
"Riku?"
"Hm?"
"Do you like flowers?" She sits on the burnt umber porch, fiddling with the soft papers of her sketchbook. The brittle pencil is balanced on her slender fingers, anticipating its next release into the world. The precariously simple question lingers in the softly humid air of summer, faint with the fading scents of spring, briefly tasting the twilight.
She leans against the splintery smooth oak steps, staring off into the twilight air. Flowers riddle the spongy earth like dozens of flavors of the world had exploded in this garden. Her champagne hair cascades down her shoulders as she looks at him, the casual question still in her ocean eyes.
He's behind her, walking into the summer day with an icy paopu juice in one hand for her, a cold soda in another. He grunts slightly as he sits next to her, handing her the juice. She accepts and carefully wipes the glass of its sweat, making sure the crystal drops won't touch her latest illustration.
A tender zephyr ruffles her papers once more, letting the world peek at her speculations of it.
"Um, I...guess. Why?" He fumbles with his words, releasing them upon the breeze that carries them away on its lighthearted billows. Embarrassed, he guzzles the soda, ignoring the sharp bubbles in his nose.
She giggles at his crimson face and brushes the strands of starlight away from his eyes.
"I can tell you're a daisy." A gentle tease is in her voice as she stares off into the air once again, a small smile on her coral lips.
"What?" His eyes are wide and he looks bewildered at the thought that he's a bright golden flower who depicts sunshine. She grins and explains her most innermost thoughts.
"You seem like a daisy. I can tell. Aside from other people's perceptions, deep inside," She giggles sweetly at this and says softly, "you're a daisy."
He scoffs at this, showing insincere derision. How could he be a daisy? Of all things, trust an artist to craft the strangest insights.
The blonde knows he's joking. She lifts her chin and sets it on his broad shoulder. She looks deep within his aqua eyes and whispers, "I know you want to. Being a daisy's much too fun for you, isn't it?"
He turns his head nonchalantly and sardonically utters, "Oh yeah. Of course I want to be a fun little flower. It's just too compelling for me." She smiles and dismisses his sarcastic tones. She bends to her other side, snaps a verdant stem from the garden soil and brushes off the dusty mud from the yellow petals. The blonde then kneels behind the bemused Riku and weaves the daisy into a diminutive lock of his hair, just behind his ear.
Rather than brushing the flower away, he relents to her salon treatment and sighs deeply. Namine sits down again and leans against him, nudging her head against his shoulder. He breathes in the moist air and smells the sweet aroma of flowers and past adventures, of lost friendships and deliverance.
What can he say?
Summer was in the air.
There once was a writer who was so deeply saddened by something that she tried to jump off a block of cheese! But this wasn't ANY old cheese. It was SWISS cheese!
The only thing that saved there were...REVIEWS!
This utterly sad review prompting story brought to you by...
