1p15.
𝙼𝙰𝚈𝙱𝙴 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝙱𝙴 𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙴𝚁 . maybe , one day they would have a quiet day like this again , the sun brazen in all its warmth in a field of grass and ever blooming flowers . but they know where they both belong , they know that it is not here . not soft . never like this . “ —— sometimes this wreck can turn up something nice . ” mindlessly , hands reach out against the grass and pluck a barely blooming flower . twirls it in her hands , drops it to the ground again . eyes peer back to her , to she that swelled with the same kind of hurt , the same kind of violence . mirrored souls , staring back at one another . praying the other doesn’t look right into it . “ is it the same where you’re from ? ” a distraction from the graves they both sat in . she wonders how long she’ll be around , how long it will take before one of them finds the other . she is tired of corpses , and it is enough to make her look away again .
𝚃𝙾 𝙳𝚁𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝙸𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙾𝙽𝙻𝚈 𝙰𝙽𝚂𝚆𝙴𝚁 . whether in warmth or whether in the cold , to drown in something , to wholeheartedly leap forward into the forsaken , unforgiving future she’s been given is the only way . there will never be an easier way to jump off a moving train , never an easier way to fall from a broken cliff . there is only certain agony . only the terrible truth . she knows . they both do . sorrowful , broken mirrors of hearts they are , torn apart and pieced back together in the moments they spend like this . velvet , denying it all for a moment , wishes : i would like to see you happy . “ i haven’t picked a flower in ages . i always end up killing them . “ she says , soft , pained , distant . she peers back to her . “ i haven’t gone back to hometown in a long time , but i remember the greenery . it’s hard to stop and admire things . “ ah , but here , with you —— “ these are beautiful ... they'd look good in your hair . “ gentle , now . careful . lest we rot away within ourselves too quickly . lest we lose the only thing left .
