for auction, daphnesusan
268 words, by gdocs
The flowers died three weeks ago. Daphne doesn't have the heart to throw them away, so they stay on the windowsill, a petal falling down every once in a while. She has been coming to Susan's almost daily, but it feels useless; Susan doesn't want her company.
She can't help Susan.
"Suse?" Daphne asks one day. The pair of them are sitting in Susan's tiny apartment and Daphne can't help but continue to stare at the dead flowers.
"Hm?" Susan says, raising her eyebrows. She's sitting at the table, across from Daphne. Maybe, if it was before the war, they could've had something normal, but at this moment, Daphne feels…
Well, she feels the same as Susan did—empty.
"Do you think, maybe—" Daphne's question dies in her throat before she even gets it out, because she doesn't know what she wants to say. She just wants to hear something; the silence of Susan's apartment is tearing her up inside. She hates the silence; she spent too much time staying silent, and the war is over—she has no reason to stay silent, except for the fact that she has nothing to say. She hates that.
With a sigh, Daphne turns back to the flowers on Susan's windowsill. They used to be a bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers, but the petals have turned slightly brown and they're all wilted now.
They're like Susan, Daphne thinks. Susan, once upon a time, used to be so bright and pretty and now… now, Daphne remembers, turning her attention back to Susan, she's all wilted.
The feeling of uselessness settles onto Daphne once again.