Uni procrastination, oh my.
Just experimenting with imagery, metaphor and syntax.
Sorry if it doesn't make sense.

Lysander stood by the lake, his hands tucked behind his back neatly; gaze fixed on the ducks that frolicked and flapped about happily in the defrosting water. His grip tightened on the piece of paper he had rolled up and, allowing his shoulders to slump, Lysander looked away from the lake; a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

It wasn't like Estelle to be late. She was always exactly on time for their meet ups, if not being so eager she'd arrive before he. Something wasn't right. Lysander began to circle the lake at a slow pace, his mind clouded with not only thoughts, but a great deal of mostly horrifying scenarios to explain Estelle's absence.

Pausing briefly by a small patch of flowers, Lysander stooped down, plucking a dusty blue, dainty flower from the ground. The thin coating of fur on the stem ticked his fingertips as he twirled it in circles. It reminded him of Estelle. Simple, yet just so captivating.

Reaching the lone, dew covered bench, Lysander's brows furrowed and he sat down, his hand dipping into his pocket to retrieve his mobile phone. Running a thumb across the screen, Lysander scowled at the lack of alerts he had; one message from his brother and another from his friend, Castiel.

Lysander's thumb hovered over the screen for a brief moment before he opened up his message box, hoping that he had simply misread the meeting time that Estelle and he had decided on. No. Lysander's lips twisted together in a frown; he was exactly where he needed to be at the time they had promised. But why could Estelle be late?

Exiting out of his message box, Lysander's fingers seemed to work by themselves as he punched in her number, finally hesitating with thumb positioned just above the call button. Blinking down at his phone several times, a small smile crept onto Lysander's face. The chances of remembering any number aside from his own (although he was known to forget it on occasion) was certainly something the silver haired boy did not expect. But yet, he had Estelle's number memorised; encoded in his brain without him knowing, right down to the very last digit.

Drawing in a deep breath, Lysander shot one final glance around the deserted parkland before tapping the 'call' button. Raising the phone to his ear, he let out a quiet sigh of relief as he listened to it ring.

'Hello?' came the voice on the other line and Lysander found himself smiling at the cheerful voice.

"Elly, it's me. Where are you? Is everything alrigh-"

'Just kidding~' the voice continued. 'Unfortunately I'm unable to answer the phone right now. Please leave your message, name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as possible.'

Estelle's voice disappeared and was replaced with a single, monotonous beep. Muttering in annoyance, Lysander hung up.

What could possibly be keeping her? Maybe she witnessed a car accident and stopped to help out? Lysander shook his head. That was a stupid idea. He remembered when Estelle told him the story of how she gave away her umbrella to a needy stranger the day she met him on the train; maybe this time, Estelle was helping another person out in much the same way. But that wouldn't prevent her from answering her phone. And the sky was crystal blue and cloudless. So, that wasn't likely, either.

Dragging his fingertips through his messy silver hair, Lysander sighed sadly. He wasn't sure why Estelle was ignoring his call or skipping out on their meeting. Their date. But, Lysander was absolutely sure of one thing; he was going to have to have a word with that girl about her misleading message bank.

It was late in the afternoon when Estelle had finally made it to the park. A part of her was still hoping to see Lysander waiting for her, but she knew that was just her selfish feelings. Some sort of inner yearning that he would. Pushing those feelings aside, she glanced around; as she had expected, Lysander was long gone.

She knew she couldn't expect him to wait for so long without her contacting him – or, at the least, apologising for being so late. Estelle's brow furrowed slightly. Even though she wasn't there when she had promised, she couldn't deny the pang of hurt that washed through her at the deserted park.

Tugging the beanie farther over her ears, Estelle started at a slow walk, her head tilted upwards at the darkening sky. She would have contacted him; she wanted to. But she had always been told to leave her phone behind when she visited him. He didn't want any interruptions. He was always like that, for as long as Estelle had known him. It was all business, all seriousness. He was the binary opposite of Lysander.

Continuing along the granite track that ran along the outskirts of the lake, Estelle slowed to a halt when she neared the lone bench on the far side, secluded and seldom visited. It was where she first waited for Lysander; her excitement and nerves had her stomach churning with butterflies long before she had left the house that day to meet up with him.

But this time, it was different. She knew Lysander was not waiting for her any longer. Instead of the excitement she once felt at the prospect of meeting him, the feelings were instead replaced with guilt. A sort of incomprehensible sadness that she had brought upon herself.

Something caught her eye. A diamond in the rough. Its powder blue petals stood out against the dull grey, faded wood of the bench. Estelle's lips tugged upwards into a small smile as she carefully picked up the wilted flower; it had been smothered by the original owner, and slowly dying.

Gently plucking the bud away from the stem, Estelle crossed the path once more towards the lake and knelt down at the edge; her hand, cupped, dipped into the icy water, causing goose bumps to immediately cover the surface of her arm.

The small flower floated away from Estelle's hand as she watched it; setting it free in the freezing lake. And even though the vastness of the lake, as dark as it was, tried to swallow the flower whole, it remained afloat, despite its odds; continuing on its journey until it could no longer withstand its fate.

Estelle watched as eventually, the flower began to sink into the murky depths of the lake. And even in the darkness of the icy water, the powder blue bud still stood out; a sole light in a dark place.