The words to describe how he felt right now didn't exist. It could only be spoken through a mish-mash of words that can only hint at the feeling. Good thing he lacked words, so instead of worrying how to speak, he could just enjoy it. Basking in these few precious seconds was all the happiness he had experience in his life summed up into one memory. He wished could capture this, and relive it. Even with his magic, this memory could only truly exist in him. There was no way to convey feelings and actions to those who would even want to see it. This was Cerin and Myrrine's moment, and theirs alone. No one else could spoil this.
After he had piled up his little set of grasses, he watched her set off. Unlike him, she had a more creative eye. The flowers she picked were bright and lovely, but paled in comparison to his companion. Each flower had their own unique features. The first set was a vibrant, loud red. It screamed of adventure and fun. Perhaps a childhood incarnated as a flower. The second, which she so lovingly picked for its looks, was just as beautiful. It was a faint, muted color. The simplicity of both color and looks reminded him of innocence. How apt were these flowers for their situation. In his mind at least, they meant a lot. He would take special care to make sure these two flowers made it through even if it meant the sacrifice of his own grasses.
What happened next though, was something he had never expected. She was swift, and suddenly lacing the flowers within his mane. His body shook in a silent laugh as he turned to look at her. She went merrily about her way, interlacing them in his thick mane. Each was given a special place, and fit snugly within his locks. A smile lit up in the aftermath of his laugh, and his mind began to think again. How had she even come with up the idea, wouldn't you think she'd keep them to herself? He blinked once, twice before facing forward. No one had ever shown him this much. No one had ever given him this much emotion.
It seemed though, that the moment ended as soon as it started. When her touch was released from her mane it felt oddly cold. He felt like something was missing, but knew he could not pull her back. Not only would that be weird, but he had to realize that she had the right to walk away from him at any moment. Suddenly she plopped the bright red flowers down in front of him, and commanded him to do the same. He was no hairstylist, but he would give his best attempt at it. Grasping the flowers gently, he began lacing them into her mane. The fiery color lit up her mane, and gave her the color she deserved. If it were up to him, the entire world would take this moment just to realize that these flowers were made just for her. They weren't desert flowers, they were Myrrine's flowers. He wanted to scream it at the world.
But he couldn't.
Cerin had to sit back and watch the world pass her by, like she was something to be taken for granted. No one could understand the level of care she had, and how she deserved as much attention as she had given. Why had the Gods themselves not seen this? Why had they not blessed her so? Tears welled up in his eyes as they continued. It was so foreign, feeling the blockage they created in his eyes. Silently, he continued to place more into her mane. He had never cried before, so why was he now? He cries for her, he cries for the words he'll never be able to say, and he cries for those who will never know her. Swallowing back what he could, he dare not look at her. She would think him pathetic for such a thing. He couldn't help it though, and soon a quiet gasp escaped his mouth. His green eyes tried with might to stop them. Quietly, he continued as if nothing was wrong, because there was nothing wrong. That was why he looked so stupid crying right now. He should be laughing, frolicking, having fun, and here he is.
"blah blah blah."
Tag;; @[Myrrine]
Words;; 734 Words
Notes;; ;-;
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