A/N: After Poor Player, something like this was bound to follow. T.T It turned out kind of weird, kind of crazy-like, but it left me oddly happy. Nyahahaha. -skitters off to study for upcoming exams-
Disclaimer: Angel Sanctuary and the characters contained therein are the property of Kaori Yuki. No profit is being derived from the making of this drabble, save the cracked amusement of the author.
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The Garden of Wordlessness
He's good at this, this not-saying. It's strange to him, but he has become adept at it in his way. The not-saying.
Jibrille? Jibrille—oh, Lord, I think I'm going to be sick—Jibrille, I came to tell you…
He's normally so glib, silver-tongued; a curse from those fine lips would ring like verse instead. But she cannot hear, and he's become good at not-saying. Maybe, in its way, silence is poetry too. Maybe it's best that she does not hear.
Do you ever think of me, here in your garden?
She does not hear. She will not hear. She never hears. He knows this is probably his punishment; he never listens, so she never hears. And there are no words, here. No words in this garden.
Not any more than I think of you, hmm?
Her eyes are blue, vacant blue. A doll's glass eyes the same blue as water under the sky. He's staring into them like a drowning man, and can't help but think that she looks for all the world like a doll, now—a pretty little angel doll ringed all round with flowers under the golden slanting light, with water-blue eyes that don't see a thing.
I-I… Ah, damnation. Look at what you're doing to me.
No matter how many times he comes, she will not see him. He knows that this, too, is probably his punishment. He's never watched closely enough, so she does not see. Maybe they're safe like that, in their way. Maybe it's best that she does not see.
I suppose that's just as well, little one. Isn't it?
There's a ripple. It almost looks like there's something stirring under the surface. He smiles, and knows there isn't, really. She does not know. She can't.
It's just the wind. The wind across the water. Like it or not, there's always a wind blowing, here in your garden.