Cinnabar flinches from Diamond’s touch as if from a punch; kind or not, with gloves or without, even the smallest touch is violent. Diamond ought to know better than to take a risk like that. Yet it’s Cinnabar that rolls away from them, consumed by shame that the threat is even there at all, as if they had thrown the punch.
“… They’d just die anyway. Why bother?”
eyebrows furrowed, mild concern evident now― a somber expression overtaking the chipper one prior. a light ‘tsk, tsk’ rang through Dia’s lips. they manage a tender and altruistic tone despite each sharp pang cinnabar’s hesitation sent. commonplace for the gem. hiding their own sensitive nature with kindness. sometimes they saw Bort within their fellow friend, cold-natured and harsh to those wanting and willing to help.
❛ now, now, Shinsa. don’t be so mean. that’s what flowers are for! to be pretty and decorative. and~ there are so many in the fields that if only a few die then we can find some more! ❜
dia dropped to their knees, spreading their collection of stemmed beauties in front of Cinnabar. hands danced methodically over each one as the gem pieced together their creative plans.
❛ i wish we had a larger abundance of sunflowers on the island, ❜ they mused quietly, ❛ the yellow next to your hair would match my own brightness! ❜ dia giggled, one hand brushing their own hair. prisms scattered as each strand caught the light.
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