Petals Falling Like Tears

Request by: Just a Realistic Dreamer

Genre: Romance

Rated: T

It had been one of the most terrifying things I had ever had to do – even through her comatose state, I'm sure she had felt the hammering of my heart. I had never felt such a fear before, despite all I had gone through, simply because it was her, Lenalee Lee, that beautiful exorcist with that encouraging smile that magically sent a grin across my face, even through the hardest of circumstances. To feel her dying in my arms had truly sent my mind racing, and I was thinking a thousand things at once – flashbacks to the present battle, ideas of how to help her regain consciousness, and the creeping sensation as I thought of what life would be like if I weren't able to see her – but somehow, my strong instincts of saving her had broken through all those thoughts, making it so I was able to bring her back safely.

Or so I hoped.

I had carried her bleeding, shaking body off of the battlefield, staggering under her weight and under the influence of all of my injuries. Somehow, even though I was severely hurt myself, my determination surpassed my wounds. I was successful in carrying her to help, though I could hardly remember anything besides that overwhelming fear I had experienced as I did so.

Perhaps in situations like that, the heart is able to control the body and mind. I had never allowed my heart to function on its own, without the body and mind leading it before. It wasn't as if Lenalee had snuck up on me, though – my feelings for her had been gradual. I had known about them for a while. The Old Man, on the other hand, had not.

By this point, Lenalee was safely in the infirmary. I was on my way to go buy her some flowers – I couldn't go visit her empty handed – but Gramps caught sight of me, and demanded to know where I was going.

"I'm going to go buy Lenalee some flowers," I answered honestly, trying to sound casual.

He frowned. "We have a lot of work to do. That can wait until later."

"The paperwork can wait," I corrected. "She can't."

Something must have seeped through my voice because I could see it in his eyes that he knew what was in my heart as clearly as I did – I cringed, waiting for his response. The silence dragged out for a moment before he responded, "If you don't do it now, it might not be here when you come back." In other words, if I didn't finish my job now, I'd never have one to do again. I had to choose between Lavi the bookman and Lavi the exorcist.

I ran out of that building without a second thought, images of Lenalee flashing through my mind. Her laugh, her smile, the way she blushed when I held her hand – that was so much more real to me than scribbles in a notebook. I could see Lenalee, I could touch her – she could keep me company from this day on. My words couldn't do any of that. Since I had felt true emotion, they had no longer been able to reach me.

Of course, I was as unlucky as to go to a flower shop that was out of the violets I wanted. It seemed silly for me to run all over town looking for them, but I wanted some flowers that matched her lovely eyes. If I was going to confess to her, I needed some leverage.

Two hours had passed by the time I returned to the Black Order, running up the stairs as fast as I could to her room. I burst in, knowing I had to give this my all – she was all I had left now, and if I messed this up, I had nothing.

"Lenalee," I called gently, rushing to her bed, dragging a chair up to its side. She was lying with her eyes shut, still seeming slightly unconscious. She had a dozen tubes hooked up to her, and her breathing was a lot softer than before. Nonetheless, it was Lenalee – my Lenalee – and no matter how weak she was, or what state she was in, she looked gorgeous to me. I took her hand, stroking it gently to capture her attention. Her eyelids flickered, as if fighting to open, but she remained in a sleep like state.

"Hey," I murmured. "I brought you some flowers. I chose violent because it reminded me of you."

A small smile crept across her face, and I could tell she was acknowledging what I was saying. I returned the smile, though she couldn't see it.

"I'm so happy that you're doing so well," I told her sincerely. "I was so worried the other day…I felt like…like I had lost you." I took a breath, not wanting my voice to waver. "It was hard to think that you might be gone, and that I'd never see you again. It was almost unbearable, but we got through it anyway, huh?" I gave her hand a squeeze, hoping she'd be able to respond.

Her smiled widened a bit. "Thanks for saving me the other day," she said in a nearly inaudible voice. "I thought I was a lost cause, too, until I heard your voice – that's when I knew I had to hold on. I feel the same way. I couldn't allow myself to leave, because I'd miss you, too."

I felt my heart rate picking up again, thundering against my chest. "Really?"

She smiled, nodding. "Now, because of you, I have the whole rest of my life to live. We can go through it all, together."

I nodded, though she couldn't see it, feeling my eyes beginning to water a bit – there was a feeling of exhilarating joy welling up inside of me that was beginning to take over.

"I love you," she finally confessed, using all her strength to grip onto my hand. She loves me! "I love you so much, Allen."

The entire world seemed to freeze over. My beating heart ceased to move – my flushed cheeks turned ice cold – and my warm hand, gripping hers so tightly, slipped away as I pushed back my chair, standing robotically, though I wasn't sure where I was going. My whole mind was a blur of a thousand thoughts – how I had given up everything for nothing – how the one person I had ever felt anything for didn't return those feelings, even after all of this – I felt like everything inside of me was going to explode.

Feeling like my composure was almost gone for good – like it had been slipping since I had met her – I gripped onto the last bit I had of self-control, placing a tight lid over my emotions, bottling them up once again.

Emotions were such pesky things. They only got in the way of getting a job done.

On my way out, I tore a single petal off of the flowers I had bought her, pushing into my pocket so I'd remember this moment if I ever did something stupid like falling in love again.

She loves me not.