Author's Note: Wow. Considering I don't write much stories, this was a monster for me to write. All I did was get English translations to a Vietnamese song, felt feels from it, and I just intended to write something quick and simple. Yea, well, that didn't happen...I definitely didn't imagine it would become so long and "internal monologue-y." Sorry about that. But that's all good, I'm satisfied with this.
Please, darlings, enjoy.
Allen stood by the window of his chamber in Headquarters, elbow resting on the windowsill and his cheek on a gloved palm, as he gazed absentmindedly the feathery clouds drifting lazily along the azure-hued sky as if they didn't have a care in the world. Towards the end of summer, the sky was still bright during the day, shining like a blue crystal, but already he could see the crystalline of the sky start to dull as autumn began to arrive.
Everywhere, actually, was showing signs of the oncoming autumn. The thick forest surrounding the Headquarters building, initially a bright summer green, was already spotted with reds, yellows, and browns as the first few leaves began their cycle of decay, and occasionally the tips of the trees would shiver from a light breeze that often accompanied the autumn chill. All the beautiful life that thrived during the summer either hid, or just started to die away, little by little.
Just like the love he felt for him.
Allen sighed softly. Every day he began to wait by the window ever since the first rose arrived. At first he thought it was an accident, that a bird probably dropped it or it somehow got caught by a strong breeze. But when he observed the rose left on his windowsill, saw how pristine and intact the soft crimson petals were, how it appeared so well-cared for, it couldn't have been delivered by no other than a person, someone who deeply cared for him.
It was obvious, then, who delivered the rose to him.
And then suddenly those feelings had come back. The longing, the nostalgia, the warmth he so missed, the desire to be touched once again, they all surged into him with the force of a tidal wave. Oh, how he missed him. How he missed being in his arms, talking about everything but the war, their suffering, their pain, and just bonding with one another through teasing and laughter and all special aspects of their personality they had in common...
For a moment he had wanted it all back. He wanted to go back to the way they were, away from everything, away from the chaos and slaughter, and just be happy with each other as people. Nothing more. But then the memory flashed in his mind. The memory of that time, the moment when they both realized their love could be no more. The moment the pain they both felt overwhelmed any hopes of surpassing the obstacles in their already tangled, obstructed path.
Then, like a candle blown out, his longing had dissipated, and he just stood there, emotionless, a dull ache in his heart where there was once a love he unfortunately had to force away.
Now, as Allen stood by the window, he didn't know what he was going to fulfill by watching him every day go through the forest, scale up the wall to leave a lone red rose on his windowsill, but in a way he was still tied to him, emotionally bonded to the man who hurt him in such an inexplicable way. He wanted to see their separation through to the end, until they can both finally leave each other in peace.
Allen spied movement from the corner of his eye, and cast his eyes in that direction. There he was, approaching the other side of the forest, probably dressed in the semi-formal attire that he always seemed to wear on these visits—the pressed white dress shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, the black dress pants, his dark hair pinned up in his usual way. The casual outfit of sweet romance he had always seen him wear.
Allen watched as he entered the forest shifting into shades of autumn, and after a while emerged on the other side, strolling across the clearing towards the building. Then, stopping just by the dark brick wall, he gracefully leapt onto the nearest windowsill, and with a quick fluid motion he was leaping onto the next.
Every rise and fall, the way he extended his arms behind his back as he flew, Allen watched, entranced. The man leapt across the windowsills with the grace of a butterfly, the soles of his shoes tapping daintily on the thin wood, barely touching before they lifted again and he rose in flight, his face stern and concentrated as he scaled the wall with caution and fluidity.
Allen's eyes were soft, yearning. He was such a lean, elegant creature, and the longing nearly resurfaced when Allen thought of that beautiful person he used to love, the person who almost changed himself for the better...
Allen's gaze fell. It was peculiar how such a beautiful creature could be so mortally dangerous.
With that thought, the dull ache blossomed in his heart again, and he glanced once again at the man making his way towards his window. He couldn't see him like this again, not so casually like the way they used to.
Once the man was on the nearest windowsill, Allen quickly hid behind the wall next to the window. Pressing himself against the wall, he kept his eyes trained on the patch of light on the floor of his room, and soon a long shadow appeared in that patch of light. Allen just watched that shadow, waiting, part of him wanting to leave from his hiding spot and finally confront him once again, but he held back. For the benefit of them both, he held back.
Finally, the shadow disappeared completely. Allen waited a few moments longer, before he let out a heavy breath, and moved to the window. He gently lifted up the pane, taking care not to knock over the rose, and brought the rose inside as he shut the window.
It was always the same flower, a red rose at the peak of its bloom. Each crimson petal curved out delicately, fully exposing its awing beauty, and he couldn't help but caress the silky layers with a gloved hand before bringing it to his nose. The soft petals tickling his skin, he deeply inhaled the fragrance. Sweet, as always. A scent unique to every rose he received.
Once he felt he drunk enough of the rose's beauty, Allen moved to his desk, pulling out a drawer that revealed a dozen or more roses. Some were already turning crispy brown with decay, with the more recent ones starting to brown at the tips of their petals. He laid the rose next to the most recent one, and for a while he just stood there, looking into the drawer. Many a time he tried to throw them out, thinking it pointless to linger with the feelings he still had. But he couldn't bear to do it. No matter what happened, he still loved him.
With a last glance, Allen shut the drawer as he shut away within the depths of his heart the love he used to have.
Crunch, crunch, crunch...
Only the sound of gritty pebbles beneath his feet could be heard within the still air as Tyki strolled along the sandy trail, a hand placed leisurely in his pocket. A red rose dangled from his other hand, its head tilted forward to face the ground as if it was a weight trying to drag down the rest of its body with it. With his steady pace, the rose rocked to and fro within his grip, like a pendulum.
Ahead of him, the path looked forlorn and lonely. It continued on, the same sandy path, stretching through the green countryside plains without a person in sight. There was no other sound, not a rustling of the breeze through the tree tops, not a chirping of a bird or a scurrying of a rabbit through the bushes. It was only him and the crunch of pebbles with every slow step. Lonely in being, like he was in heart.
So many times already had he traveled along this path. So many times had he heard the crunch of the pebbles echoing in the emptiness of this area, seen the same trees pass him, the same blue sky above him. So many times had he carried the one red rose to that place, going back empty-handed, before he continued the ritual again the next day.
He didn't know why he did it. He didn't see any point in going back to that place, leaving a gift that his receiver may or may not receive. They have been done for a long time. Their relationship, feelings, gifts, intimacy, have all been finished for a very long time. They both agreed on a clean split, a break with no lingering ties. But still, he kept coming back, day after day, with a single red rose, and never seeing his face.
It was a ridiculous ritual, to say the least. They separated because they knew it was the best for them, and it should have been easy to just leave it at that. But after their break-up, it was like something had possessed him. It was not the kind of possession people could feel consciously, as in demonic possession where they could feel that evil presence within them, burning them alive from within the weak barriers of the mind; it was a possession in which the unconscious, the part of a person's mind without any sense of morality or reason, takes complete control of his consciousness and fuels unrestrained desire.
Tyki could feel it. He could feel that dull ache arising in him, flooding his mind with memories of him, of their shared intimacies, of their shared moments of warmth and tenderness that touched his usually cold heart. He could feel the longing arise again, the forbidden desire to go to him, take him in his arms and ravish him, love him once again.
How he tried to force those memories back. How he tried to expel that yearning for his love and touch, because in the end it would never be happily ever after. It was for a good reason that they decided to end everything between them and go their separate ways. But whatever possessed him wouldn't unleash him from its aggressive hold. Every morning he would wake up feeling tortured inside, suddenly pulled towards him by a string attached to his heart, and he needed solace, something that will ease the ache.
As Tyki strolled along the trail, he remembered the rose in his hand. Physically, it was just a flower, a flimsy object with barely any weight to it and no form of protection against force. In essence, however, it carried much more than it appeared to. It carried that aching part of his heart, the part that couldn't find solace from their separation. He didn't expect anything more to happen every time he delivered the flower, but he needed to unleash this sorrow he still felt, somehow...
When he finally approached the forest, Tyki hesitated. For a moment he reconsidered his actions, how much they could truly help him, but that tugging urged him on. He continued on and followed a trail through the forest, a trail that he knew by heart after using it so many times.
From the forest he emerged into the small clearing, and after a quick scan of the vicinity, he traversed to the large building in front of him. His enemies' Headquarters. As he took a step forward, though, he paused. That familiar feeling came by, again, the feeling as if he was being watched. He couldn't sense anyone's presence around him, so he glanced up, towards that window. He couldn't see through the glass, as it reflected the glare of the sun, but he could sense someone's presence there, always watching him every time he stopped by.
Instinctively, he just knew who it was.
He continued towards the building. Once he was close enough to the wall, he leapt off the ground with a light push of his heels, flying towards the nearest windowsill, and with a mere tap of his soles on the thin wood he was flying again towards the next windowsill and the next. Scaling up the wall he continued until he was on the sill nearest the designated window, and with a final leap he landed in mid-air, levitating just in front of the windowpane so that only his torso could be seen through the glass.
There, he remained, with the red rose in hand. The Noah glanced through the glass in front of him, wondering, just faintly, if he would see him this time. But through the window, only a dark room stared back at him, void of anybody, especially the inhabitant of the room. Just like every time he came to deliver the rose.
Tyki smiled knowingly. If that was the way he wanted it...
Tenderly, he brought the rose to his lips, closing his eyes for a few moments, before he laid it down on the windowsill. Then, with a last glance at the red rose, he descended down the building.
It was dark. It was stifling. Allen fought through the tangled branches and twigs that littered his path, tried to avoid tripping on the large stones and roots that poked out of the dirt even though they were barely visible in the shadows of the trees. But he had to keep going, he had to find Lenalee otherwise she would get into trouble she couldn't escape by herself. And right now every exorcist was in danger if caught alone.
He tried to retrace their campsite, a clearing in the middle of the forest that had ample protection, but before him a cluster of trees expanded endlessly into the distance, far from any clearing, escalating his desperation.
Finally he rejoiced, as he saw orange flickering light in the gap between two tree trunks several feet away—the campfire—and from the silence he figured Lenalee was still safe. His heart heaved a sigh of relief. As he took another step forward, though, a fearful cry echoed from the clearing ahead:
"Allen-kun!"
Dread suddenly formed a block of ice in his gut.
"Lenalee—" He scrambled through the remaining trees ahead of him, the ice beginning to melt furiously and course through his burning veins as he feared what lay ahead. He finally broke through the gap into the clearing, and what he later saw made him freeze, unbearably.
Lenalee, heavily bruised and injured, lying on her back with large black and purple butterflies pinning down her hands and feet, looked up with half-lidded eyes at a dark-haired man kneeling before her, a large hand hovering over her body.
Allen's heart stopped when he recognized the perpetrator—the thick, black wavy locks that he remembered affectionately weaving his hands through, were now loose, cascading over the dark features he knew so well. But when the firelight flickered, crackled, illuminated those features with the eerie orange glow, the warmth he usually felt when seeing that face was overwhelmed by an all-too-familiar terror as he saw once again the Noah's most horrific expression—the cruel smile of glee, the darkened eyes dilated with pure malice and bloodlust when he ripped a hole in his heart—the face he never wanted to see again.
Before he could make a move the Noah forced a large hand deep into the girl's chest, her back arching grotesquely, and the shrieks of the emerald-haired girl shattered the stillness of the forest, resonating within Allen's veins until the dreadful vibration of his blood threatened to tear him apart.
Allen could only stare, shocked, horrified, when Lenalee's head lolled to the side and only empty, lifeless violet voids stared back at him. He glanced up at the dark-haired man, at the fearsome row of stigmata under his wavy hair, and choked out his name subconsciously.
"Tyk—" He slapped a hand to his wavering lips, lest he be heard, but the Noah had already turned his attention to him, his golden eyes flashed with intent to attack his next victim. When Tyki recognized him, though, his eyes widened, and he immediately stepped away from the body.
"Shounen—"
"You monster!"
Even if that same face used to make cheeky expressions, look at him with teasing eyes, smile at him with love and amusement, he could see no other face right now than the one of evil and darkness and monstrosity that he knew would only be satisfied by the ruthless slaughtering of innocent beings, beings that never deserved such cruelty.
That was the only person he could see, and that was the person he was going to destroy.
Activating his sword, he lunged towards the Noah, all of his hatred pummeling him forward.
Allen woke with a start in the middle of the night, his pillow damp with cold sweat. He was staring up at a plain dark ceiling, and the blankets didn't seem to budge throughout the night. It was a nightmare that, unlike other active ones, so paralyzed dreamers with terror they couldn't bear to move. He took a shaky breath to calm his racing heart, but it couldn't expel the icy dread that remained in the pit of his stomach.
It had already been two months since he lost Lenalee. Losing his friends in general was painful, but Lenalee was one of the special ones, the death of those he would have a much harder time accepting because of how much they've been through together, what bond they shared. Watching her slaughtered so tore him apart, and he would never forgive himself from that day on for leaving her alone like that.
If only he didn't leave her alone, he would have fought with her. He would have saved her, and further save everyone else, Komui especially, from the misery of losing one of the Black Order's most precious members. And he wouldn't have lost one of his best friends, one of the greatest people he has known in his life. If only, if only he could no longer suffer from this guilt.
Allen felt his stomach sour at the thought, arising tears ready to choke him, and he dug himself further into the covers, curling into himself.
And that memory was so much more vivid, so much more terrifying because of him, the person he least expected to do such a horrible thing to him. He nearly choked on a sob. He didn't just lose Lenalee in that forest—he lost another person important to him, someone who tore his heart apart as he ripped Lenalee's heart out.
At that moment Allen faced the reality of the situation, the reality he had tried to hide when he engaged in a relationship with the Noah. He thought he could avoid encountering the Noah while they fought in the war between the Black Order and the Millennium Earl. He thought they could continue seeing each other in secret, during those rare times of peace, when they could just be normal people who appreciated the same things.
In a way, he thought he could deny the fact they were born solely good and bad, angel and demon, and that they could work around this and stray from the roles this war required of them.
And it had been going well, hadn't it? Their relationship was more than anything they expected. They both shared that same agony of fighting this war, of killing, killing, death, death, that same hatred they used to have for one another. But once you strip away all that chaos, give them peace, they saw each other in ways they've never seen before, saw how truly alike they were as living beings with a soul and a mind. Perhaps, they thought, they could work around their fated roles, their fated intentions to kill one another.
But once he saw that hand dive into Lenalee's body, cruel, merciless, Allen saw that same face again. The same horrendous glee he saw grinning down at him as a hole was ripped in his heart. There was his enemy again, frightening and sinful as ever, whose sole purpose for living was to destroy Innocence, destroy all that was good in the world.
That part of him will never change. How could he continue loving someone who would just keep killing everyone he loved?
Allen clutched onto the blankets, his mind swimming with conflicted emotions, and he pressed his face onto the pillow. Now, what could he do with himself? What could he do? Squeezing his eyes shut, he let the long-withheld tears roll down his cheeks.
Tyki was wide awake as he lay underneath the covers, arms folded under his head. It was long past his curfew, but he had spent many nights like this already, just lying in bed, thinking about his troubles. Funny that a guy like him actually had troubles, since he usually just breezed by with killing people and hanging out with his white friends. But this time he was taking it seriously...
Because it involved someone he actually considered special.
It was quite unfortunate his special person worked for the "good" side, the side he was fighting to destroy so he could win the war. That in itself had already caused problems for their relationship, and consequently ended it.
It really wasn't a good idea from the start, and they both knew it. But they also both agreed it was worth a try. Their relationship was unique. They bonded through a side of themselves that they shared in common—their more humanized side, the side completely detached from their roles as guardians of heaven and hell. They just became normal humans, or at least unleashed those qualities, and befriended one another as humans.
Honestly, once they were away from the chaos of the war between good and evil, they clicked quickly. It seemed they had much more common than they thought, and it made everything that much more fun, just getting to know one another personally.
It came to the point he thought he wouldn't have to hurt the exorcist again, like he did before.
But Tyki also couldn't deny the other side of him, the being who had taken control of his life. As much as he treasured the warm and cherishing side of himself, he was still a Noah. He lived to destroy Innocence, all that was good in the world. And as much as he knew it sickened the exorcist, he was satisfied with it.
Especially when he murdered that green-haired exorcist, feeling the body rip apart with a mere touch of his hand, the blood gushing from the wound and dribbling along his bare hand, her pitiful shrieks as she gathered her last breath into a powerful blow. It all filled him with an immense intensity he found as addicting as a drug.
Oh, he was already so corrupted, getting addicted to something so pleasurable.
And that was who he was. He was the corrupted Noah. Nothing could change that, not even the pain he felt when he saw his exorcist's horrified expression, the hatred flaming in his eyes...
Not even that sudden wave of remorse he felt as he stepped away from the body, realizing he just murdered his lover's closest friend and hurt him, destroyed a part of his heart that could never heal. Even that split-second desire to throw all his sins and temptations away, to gather him in his arms and take him away from everything, couldn't change who he was.
Similarly, nothing could change the exorcist either. The boy lived to purify the corrupted, and if he must destroy to do so, then he shall.
Even if that meant destroying him, the Noah, as well.
Tyki turned his head towards the side table, glancing at the crimson rose wilting in a slender crystal vase, a few dried up petals already collecting at the base. He heaved a melancholy sigh. That was just who they were. He turned on his side and closed his eyes.
That was just who they were.
Through the dimming windows, the evening sky expanded before him, as the last golden rays of the sun sprang from the horizon and melted into the arms of the dark clouds rolling across the sky, streaking scarlet orange through the cloud's shadowed crevices.
Allen peered out the window towards the forest darkened by the evening's arrival, waiting for him. Usually he came when everything was still alight from the daytime sky, but this time the sun was already setting, and he still didn't appear.
He shouldn't have been surprised. Their relationship was already gone for good, and likewise the Noah should have been gone for good too. He didn't have to keep coming back with little gifts every day, gifts that will have no more meaning because in the end, they will just rot away in time.
But when Allen woke up this morning, he felt something different. It was like the red string of fate buried into the nerves of their souls, connecting them together, finally wore apart completely, the last thread that barely kept it together finally snapping into two. It wasn't a shock felt consciously, but he knew at the moment something ended, and it couldn't be put back together again.
And here he was, waiting, for him to come by for the last time, so they could acknowledge—reminisce—what they once had, and what they had now.
Finally, from the weak light of the sun peaking through the clouds, Allen spotted a shadowy figure approaching the other side of the forest. The figure paused at the forest entrance, his head turned towards something hidden beyond the trees. Allen raised an eyebrow curiously, wondering what was there, but he couldn't find out before the figure entered the forest.
Allen watched as the Noah then emerged from the forest, passing the last physical barrier between them before the only thing that separated them was a glass windowpane. The Noah stepped forward, heading towards the wall. But then he paused. Allen's heart paused for a moment too, as the Noah then raised his head, and his eyes met Allen's.
The Noah probably couldn't even see him, but Allen was transfixed onto his gaze, the gaze of golden eyes that were usually so sharp, but now, he knew, held a longing that lingered, remembered those rare times of peace they shared, remembered the warmth that flamed with every gentle touch and gesture. Allen raised a hand, softly pressing the tip of his finger to the glass, making as if to touch the Noah once again. The Noah remained still, just in front of the building, and in that long moment, they shared a silent agreement…one that will allow them to separate completely with as little pain as possible.
The Noah nodded his head in quiet understanding, a subtle gesture, and Allen watched as he then turned around and traversed through the forest, re-emerging on the other side. There, a little homeless girl appeared from the shadow of the trees, and the Noah then handed her the rose he was originally going to give to him.
As he watched that touching exchange between them, Allen felt that dull ache in his heart gradually dissipate, and his lips broke into a small smile.
Yes, it is okay to walk away now. It is okay if you go away and never come back, because it is the best for both of us.
I have always thought we would have a different kind of love. Though we are both so different, I thought the love we shared would sprout wings and fly, fly alone and away from the chaos in our lives. I thought we could change our fate as guardians of heaven and hell so we could finally be happy.
But what is the point, if we're just going to keep hurting one another, killing each other's friends and family and everyone we love, like we were meant to? This love is not worth the pain, the losses that will not only destroy us, but everyone else as well. Even if it hurts us to separate like this, that's the sacrifice we have to make.
The sun sunk lower into the horizon, leaving bright red and orange flaming in its cloud-scattered path, and casted a long shadow behind the dark-haired man. Softly brimming with tears, Allen's eyes followed the figure as it slowly faded away into the distance.
Yes, it is okay to walk away now, Tyki Mikk. It will be the best for us.
Because we were fated to be enemies.
By the time Tyki Mikk approached the forest, the shadows were already so elongated, and the sky was painted with the onset of twilight, the night sky already visible in the far distance. To think he was usually such a prompt person…but this time he really didn't have an excuse for his later arrival.
He couldn't tell himself consciously why he delayed to send the rose this time, but today, everything seemed to go a little slower than usual. When he awoke this morning, the day ahead just seemed so bleak. His stride seemed a little heavier, sluggish; he felt a weight in his chest that seemed to haul him through the ground, unabatedly; everything he saw was grayer, dimmer, like he was dragging himself through shadow. He felt a bleak event incoming, and though he couldn't say for sure, in his heart he knew the answer.
In the end he was out of the house at the sun's farewell, quickly purchasing the rose before the day ceased. As he stood in front of the forest entrance, though, there was something strangely ominous about the thick forest ahead of him, the almost endless expanse of tall trees that shadowed one another as the sun receded. He wasn't afraid, no, but this forest that he was so familiar with suddenly seemed to become an obstacle to him, a physical barrier set up between him and the white-haired exorcist.
Again, he wasn't sure why this was the case, but perhaps it had something to do with the heavy feeling that plagued him since he woke up.
He made his way to enter the forest, when he heard rustling to his right side. He halted, waiting cautiously lest it was an exorcist that spotted him. But then childish giggling reached his ears, and he turned his head to see a homeless girl sitting against a tree. He raised his eyebrows curiously, observing her for a moment.
The girl's blonde hair was unbearably tangled, caked with dirt to the point it became difficult to decipher the true color, and her clothing of torn cotton fabric wouldn't have been any great protection against the arising autumn chill. Her poor feet were shoe-less, appearing so red and calloused to the eye it made one cringe. But somehow, despite her desolate circumstances, she still retained a childish youth to her. Her azure eyes still shined with crystal innocence, and the mud on her cheeks couldn't contain her youthful glow when she smiled at him with yellowed teeth.
Tyki gazed at her with interest. It never ceased to amaze him how even in the most ruthless of circumstances, people could still smile so brightly, so wholeheartedly, as if they were unaffected by all the evil around them. This girl so young, especially, only saw him as another person, not as the corrupted being he was. He had to admit, she was a tough little girl, and he couldn't help feeling slightly touched by her innocence.
Finally leaving the homeless girl, the Noah ventured into the forest.
He followed the trail he had always used, easily navigating through the forest as it darkened. But then as he ventured deeper and deeper into the grove of the trees, there was almost little to no light peeking through the leaves, and he slowed down. The pitch-black darkness started to creep towards him, shroud over him. For once, on the trail he knew so well, the trail he could follow with his eyes closed, he suddenly feared he would get lost.
Or rather, he realized, lose himself. He paused in his tracks.
The darkness creeping towards him was like the heaviness creeping over his own heart, the same weight that suddenly brought to mind the burden that possessed him since they broke up. He eyed the rose in his hand, thinking of every rose he left on the exorcist's windowsill. Why, exactly, did he keep doing this? Why, even though their relationship had ended, would the longing not end? What was he reaching for by leaving a red rose behind, but never seeing his ex-lover's face?
He observed the rose. Perhaps, he was still attached to the boy. Part of him was still reminding himself of that love they once had, the love he thought was as fresh and unique in beauty as each rose at the peak of its bloom—crimson red, the strong color of passion and danger. It was a special love, and it was hard to lose.
But as Tyki gently caressed the rose's soft petals, he thought of that satin fragileness under his fingertips, those soft petals that could easily crumple if he added just a squeeze. He realized it was also a very fragile love. The rose, even at its most beautiful, was still a part of nature's cycle, and was fated to wilt and die away. Just like the Noah and the exorcist—fated to be enemies, their love was fated to die all the same.
The darkness casting away as he exited the forest, he felt the pain in his heart cast away as well. Tyki stepped forward, approaching the exorcists' Headquarters, but then he stopped. He felt someone's gaze on him, and instinctively he looked up, up towards the window he had visited daily since their separation. He couldn't see him, but he knew he was there, watching, like he did every time the Noah came by.
There was indeed something special about this day. Even without meeting each other face to face, they both could sense it. The red string of fate connecting them together finally snapped, and they were no longer one. There was no point in continuing to love each other, for it would only cause more pain for everyone.
Tyki looked at the rose in his hand one last time, before he nodded. If that was what was best for them, then he didn't need to do any more. The homeless girl flashed in his mind, and he finally made his decision.
He turned away from the building, re-entered the forest and exited on the other side, where he found the homeless girl still leaning against the same tree. Once she saw him, she beamed and waved cheerfully. The Noah smiled back, and approached her. The girl watched him carefully, and when he handed her the rose, her eyebrows quirked slightly in confusion. She glanced at him in question. Tyki just shook his head, sending her a message with his gaze, and she nodded in quiet understanding, before she beamed at him once again. He sent her one last smile, gently patting her mussed head, before he turned back towards the trail.
The sunset stretched before him, the last golden rays of the sun springing from the horizon, and scarlet orange streaking through the shadowed crevices of the clouds. Evening sadness will fade fast, and when the fog around his heart disappears, he will be left cradling his memories. The memories of the love they once had. He turned back once last time to glance at the building behind him.
Okay my love, he said, as he turned back around and continued down the road.
We say goodbye for now.
A/N: Ouch.