Delicate alabaster fingers gently gripped the simple bunch of lavender-colored blossoms. Two large eyes, as gray as the January sky, stared solemnly ahead. A sudden gust of wind rippled her silvery hair across her face and scattered the few remaining dry leaves at her feet.
"You're late," she said without turning. Her voice was hushed and slightly mournful. "I thought you'd forgotten."
His arm slipped around her petite shoulders as he pressed his lips softly to her temple.
"You looked too peaceful here alone. I wanted to watch you a while."
"It's been three years now." She turned to meet his gaze. "And I still miss them so terribly. Will I ever feel the same again?"
"No." He ran his fingers across her cheek, brushing away the tear that had started to fall. "It will always be different, but it will hurt less in time."
"Did you remember Mama's flowers?"
"Yes." He produced a small bundle of yellow blooms from inside his long coat. "I never forget."
They knelt together and placed their fragile offerings on the adjoining graves. The earth was damp and cold, and it soiled their knees.
"We hardly ever see you now. Where have you been? What have you been doing? You missed Christmas . . ." Her voice trailed off. She studied her brother's face, desperate for an answer.
His gentle smile told her everything.
"Nothing, really. I've been taking some time to myself."
No one else would have been able to perceive any difference in young man's behavior. He was as kind and soft-spoken as ever. To Teletha Testarossa, however, it was painfully clear.
Leonard had changed.
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A/N: Another drabble contest entry. Again, didn't place, but I'm kind of fond of it anyway. I was playing around with a different style of writing. If you're confused, it's set about three years before FMP. It alludes to the prologue of COMO. Let me know if you like it or if I should just stick to a style I'm used to!