[May 16, 2008][Suikoden V] Like a Flower
Title: Like a Flower
Day/Theme: May 16, 2008 "Out of context and beyond all consequences"
Series: Suikoden V
Character/Pairing: Shula Valya
Rating: PG
Sometimes a flower is a token of love. And sometimes a flower is just a flower.
Of course, when I was a beautiful young boy, a flower was always just a flower.
I was a pampered child, the veritable apple of my father's eye. That's not to say that Yuma was loved any less, but she was a contrary child from the day she was born and often scorned our affections merely for the sake of causing an argument. I can remember many lazy days I spent lounging about, sleeping in late, and talking with Sharmista under the sun canopy shading part of my home's back courtyard. We would eat dates and walnuts, trying to crack the shells carefully so the undamaged halves could be floated on the pool like little boats.
Sharmista's father served as an aide to my father and as such, their family lived next door to us. The walls of my home were a goldish stone which practically glowed in the earliest and latest light of the day. The whole of our home compound was built for beauty. The window in my room looked out over the long, tranquil pool.
I was twelve when the misunderstood flower I spoke of was given to me. I was quite a sight to behold in those days, my deep purple hair streaming behind me as I dashed to the pool and dove in to bask in the sun-warmed waters. I didn't yet know the kind of effect I had on people. I didn't see the gesture as anything more than what it was.
The brown-haired boy worked for my family as well, but not in any capacity like Sharmista's father. He was one of the household servants. He brought me meals when I chose to eat alone. He folded my laundry and put it away. He was half a year older than me, and I never even saw him, though he was clearly always looking at me.
"Young Master Shula," he said, with forced formality. He knew his place, but wasn't used to talking like that. "This is for you." He looked me in the eyes. His eyes were sky blue.
I took the flower. It was a blue and orange fountain flower, an exotic bloom if there ever was one. I turned the dark purple-green stem between my fingers. I smiled because I liked the flower. "Thanks," I answered.
The flower wasn't just a flower. He didn't correct me because he saw I didn't know. There was nothing I could do about being too young, but I'm still sorry.
Day/Theme: May 16, 2008 "Out of context and beyond all consequences"
Series: Suikoden V
Character/Pairing: Shula Valya
Rating: PG
Sometimes a flower is a token of love. And sometimes a flower is just a flower.
Of course, when I was a beautiful young boy, a flower was always just a flower.
I was a pampered child, the veritable apple of my father's eye. That's not to say that Yuma was loved any less, but she was a contrary child from the day she was born and often scorned our affections merely for the sake of causing an argument. I can remember many lazy days I spent lounging about, sleeping in late, and talking with Sharmista under the sun canopy shading part of my home's back courtyard. We would eat dates and walnuts, trying to crack the shells carefully so the undamaged halves could be floated on the pool like little boats.
Sharmista's father served as an aide to my father and as such, their family lived next door to us. The walls of my home were a goldish stone which practically glowed in the earliest and latest light of the day. The whole of our home compound was built for beauty. The window in my room looked out over the long, tranquil pool.
I was twelve when the misunderstood flower I spoke of was given to me. I was quite a sight to behold in those days, my deep purple hair streaming behind me as I dashed to the pool and dove in to bask in the sun-warmed waters. I didn't yet know the kind of effect I had on people. I didn't see the gesture as anything more than what it was.
The brown-haired boy worked for my family as well, but not in any capacity like Sharmista's father. He was one of the household servants. He brought me meals when I chose to eat alone. He folded my laundry and put it away. He was half a year older than me, and I never even saw him, though he was clearly always looking at me.
"Young Master Shula," he said, with forced formality. He knew his place, but wasn't used to talking like that. "This is for you." He looked me in the eyes. His eyes were sky blue.
I took the flower. It was a blue and orange fountain flower, an exotic bloom if there ever was one. I turned the dark purple-green stem between my fingers. I smiled because I liked the flower. "Thanks," I answered.
The flower wasn't just a flower. He didn't correct me because he saw I didn't know. There was nothing I could do about being too young, but I'm still sorry.