Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz and its characters do not belong to me.
Warnings: Future shounen ai. Probably angst, too.
Unseen
There are many things Aya doesn't know about Yohji. So when he receives a bouquet of mismatched yellow acacias crowned with the elegant white blossoms of hawthorn, he doesn't at first glance credit it to his teammate.
The teammate he knows does not know how to make bouquets, or imply meanings he isn't ready to consider. The teammate he thought he knew.
And so he watches and waits, pretending it never happened.
His hair gleams golden in the sunlight that always seems to gild wavy locks and tan skin and Aya stares, transfixed, before the weight of fire and death and revenge – oh yes, the revenge – drags his gaze away.
"A-yan" he calls out, teasing, no different from before. And yet the curve of his lips seems different somehow, softer, more... Aya doesn't let himself think too much. It's here, in front of the others, and Aya glares, mutters threats. Later at night, when he's nearly asleep, he can allow himself to remember, allow some distraction from his lonely path.
He follows him sometimes, those eyes impossibly alluring even behind the ubiquitous sunglasses. Yohji'd take them off if he wanted him to, a voice whispers. But he never says anything, just watches him with cold violet eyes and an empty soul.
He feels like he just lost his teammate. Or was it himself he lost? He doesn't quite know.
Yohji smiles often. But it's never for him. Not any more.
And so he is surprised, briefly, when Yohji reaches out with one hand to glide it feather-light across his cheek before sagging back into his drunken slackness. Aya blinks at the action, then hoists him higher. He never knew Yohji was quite this light, tall frame and lean muscles combining to make Aya drag his feet as he half-carries, half-drags the taller man to his room.
Yohji sleeps fitfully. Reaches out for someone-something.
Aya watches.
He never knew that moonlight could change a person so much. The light streaming in from behind Aya formed the perfect spotlight, replacing the golden sunlit splendor of the day with the subtle contours of shadow. He looks vulnerable, even if the hard muscles beneath give lie to appearance.
Aya never knew why girls liked Yohji quite so much.
-tbc-
A/N:
Yellow acacias: secret love
Hawthorn: hope
Lemme know what you think of this beginning? Am trying out this particular style. Would adore all compliments and/or criticism =)