Title: Of embraces and sunflowers.
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Words: 793

Disclaimed.

"One day someone is going to hug

you so tight. That all of your broken

pieces will stick back together."

—Anonymous

She was the typical girl that was too much. She was always too much, yes. Too selfish, too direct, too impulsive. She was even too green, too smooth and at the same time too curly, too dog, too cat, too human. Too human to be indifferent, to stop the tears, too weak to escape.

And she stayed there, kneeling on the floor. She wouldn't move – if she moved, if she opened her mouth and tried to speak, her voice would break at the first letter, her lips would try to close, her chin would not stop shaking – she didn't want to get wet again.

She didn't want to move because she was expecting. Something.

Someone.

– In fact, anyone. –

But perhaps it was enough to wait for her knees to start hurting more than her heart and her head – that exceeded the emotional and physical pain and that constant heartache.

They say that people who suffer are those who mourn, and despair, but it's not. Even those who shut up, who have a storm inside and don't let it show, those who prefer not to think instead of talking, well, those are the strongest people – or maybe the most selfish. Selfish like her, as her selfish need to have someone close, selfish like the pain of having lost what she'll never have back.

– It's like having a painful unrequited love all your life.

And she wasn't ready for that.

Sumire Shouda wasn't ready to lose that warm shoulder.

And she was afraid. That feeling, surely that was the first time she tasted it in her whole life.

That bitter feeling aftermath, that scraped your throat and ended heavily in your stomach and burnt and hurt. Really bad.

"You're killing me, Permy." Kokoro Yome smiled seriously. At that moment, his smile was genuine. Genuine and sad. But she stopped there, she didn't want to go further, she wouldn't meet his eyes, she didn't want to collect other injuries.

"I'm not in the mood for you, Yome." She didn't even remember since when she had started calling him by his surname, she only knew that she couldn't pronounce his name, it stopped in her throat, choked her.

"I know you aren't. In fact I'm here just for this." No one would ever understand what was behind her usual glares and her silence, but he knew it. He simply knew her. Even too much.

"You know why the sunflower has this name?" In truth, she didn't expect to hear his voice again, – or rather, she hoped not to – and still less a question like that.

"Because it follows the sun, right?" She didn't want to answer, but she did, because for sure he would've insisted at least until her death. She simply knew him. Even too much.

And then, silence. Too much silence. It was becoming embarrassing, and it wasn't like him to shut up for too long, especially in her company, he always had something to say – always.

She looked up and he caught her by surprise: the last thing she wanted was to look into his eyes .

"What were you staring at?" She wanted to make it appear more intimidating, but she couldn't be quite hard, not at that time.

"The nymph Clizia was hopelessly in love with Apollo." He began, but didn't seem to want to continue, he seemed to be waiting for something.

"What do you-"

She couldn't finish the question, not because it was stopped or blocked by his response, no.

He smiled. And it was different. It was as if he wanted to let her know what was in those words, dig deep.

"When Apollo passed carrying the sun in the sky, Clizia looked at him and followed him with her eyes. But Apollo wasn't in love with her and after nine days he turned her into a sunflower."

He opened his arms and his smile widened along with those, while her expression grew even more confused.

"Why don't we let the sunflower embrace the sun?"

He waited for her reaction, but when it didn't arrive, he took her in his arms. He held her, but at the same time it was as if he were only touching her, as if she were the most fragile thing in the world.

— And that was not just a hug. It was two, three, a hundred. He embraced her heart, healed her mind, forced her to smile, he gave her the peace and ease she had been looking for far too long.

He took her pieces, but he didn't fix her; he created her all over again.

Heyaaaah! Well, this is my first story on GAFFN. I'm italian and in Italy the other languages are... uhm... kind of... I don't know how I can explain this! But, well, there aren't many people who know english very well, so I literally clinging on the only friend who knew it better than I did for beta-reading this... thing, but if there are any other errors or anything else just tell me.

For your misfortune (?) this will be a collection of one-shots, I have no idea how long it will be, I think... 8 shots? Maybe. There are too many quotes to use, I don't know really- And yeah, the genres that I put in the notes at the top are always in addition to "romance", which is actually the only genre that connect these random shots.

Well, what should I say? I hope you enjoyed it, many of those who have come to -at least- chapter 171 have figured out that Sumire refers to Mikan at the beginning. Yes, I love their friendship.

And... nothing.

See ya~

—Corpiew