Faded Petals
Title: Faded Petals
Rating: G
Character/Pairing: Lee, Sakura. Mentions of Neji and Tenten, and allusions to Sasuke
Fandom: Naruto
Theme: old-fashioned
Every morning, without fail, she finds the flower. A simple, solitary crysanthemum, in a soft shade of shell-pink, the hue of it's delicate petals almost the perfect partner to the thick pink tresses she still wears short. Sometimes there's a ribbon, a strip of satiny green to match her eyes, but those days tend to fall more often on special occasions.
For her birthday, there are 2 flowers. For the anniversary of the day she became a Chuunin, 3. On Valentine's Day, when by all rights she shouldn't be getting anything -- it's her day to give gifts, after all -- the single flower becomes a bouquet, tied with a green ribbon, edged with white baby's breath. And again, on White Day, amidst the chocolates and presents and cards, there is always another bouquet.
The pink flower is joined by a second, a deep red one, on one specific day of the year, that red blossom tied with black. A solemn reminder, and at the same time, a considerate tribute. And on that day, she places both of them in the small blue vase, puts her head down in her hands, and cries.
She knows who leaves the flowers. In fact, she's always known, though she's never actually seen him leave them on her windowsill every night. In spite of what the girl she once was would have her believe, she knows it's not the same handsome, dark-haired face she always dreamed it would be, leaving small gifts for her every day.
More than once, she's asked him about it, asked him why he does it. And each time she asks, he simply smiles at her. Smiles, and feigns ignorance, and somehow manages to evade -- or maybe it's just ignore -- all the logic and evidence that she can bring to explain how she knows it's him. And somehow, in light of that, she can't ever bring herself to ask him to stop.
After a time, she grows to accept his gifts. To look forward to them with a sort of fondness. A small mark of concern, just a little token to let her know that, though not the one she wanted, there is someone who cares. The small vase moves from the confines of her bedroom window to a prominent place on her desk. When others comment on the flowers, she simply smiles.
"They're from a friend."
Every day, he stops by the Yamanaka flower shop. And every day, he purchases the exact same thing. A single crysanthemum, in palest baby pink. He doesn't care that everyone knows it's him; after all, he's worn his heart on his sleeve for her since he met her. Neither does he care if she never acknowledges, never reciprocates his feelings.
Neji calls him a fool. He should simply give up, and accept his fate. Accept that she doesn't love him and that he'd be happier finding someone else who appreciates the expenditure of his hard-earned money.
Tenten shakes her head and sighs. She says he should know better, that she doesn't understand why he keeps doing something so old-fashioned, so outdated.
But Rock Lee doesn't mind. In fact, he likes old-fashioned. Sometimes, old-fashioned works just fine.
Rating: G
Character/Pairing: Lee, Sakura. Mentions of Neji and Tenten, and allusions to Sasuke
Fandom: Naruto
Theme: old-fashioned
Every morning, without fail, she finds the flower. A simple, solitary crysanthemum, in a soft shade of shell-pink, the hue of it's delicate petals almost the perfect partner to the thick pink tresses she still wears short. Sometimes there's a ribbon, a strip of satiny green to match her eyes, but those days tend to fall more often on special occasions.
For her birthday, there are 2 flowers. For the anniversary of the day she became a Chuunin, 3. On Valentine's Day, when by all rights she shouldn't be getting anything -- it's her day to give gifts, after all -- the single flower becomes a bouquet, tied with a green ribbon, edged with white baby's breath. And again, on White Day, amidst the chocolates and presents and cards, there is always another bouquet.
The pink flower is joined by a second, a deep red one, on one specific day of the year, that red blossom tied with black. A solemn reminder, and at the same time, a considerate tribute. And on that day, she places both of them in the small blue vase, puts her head down in her hands, and cries.
She knows who leaves the flowers. In fact, she's always known, though she's never actually seen him leave them on her windowsill every night. In spite of what the girl she once was would have her believe, she knows it's not the same handsome, dark-haired face she always dreamed it would be, leaving small gifts for her every day.
More than once, she's asked him about it, asked him why he does it. And each time she asks, he simply smiles at her. Smiles, and feigns ignorance, and somehow manages to evade -- or maybe it's just ignore -- all the logic and evidence that she can bring to explain how she knows it's him. And somehow, in light of that, she can't ever bring herself to ask him to stop.
After a time, she grows to accept his gifts. To look forward to them with a sort of fondness. A small mark of concern, just a little token to let her know that, though not the one she wanted, there is someone who cares. The small vase moves from the confines of her bedroom window to a prominent place on her desk. When others comment on the flowers, she simply smiles.
"They're from a friend."
Every day, he stops by the Yamanaka flower shop. And every day, he purchases the exact same thing. A single crysanthemum, in palest baby pink. He doesn't care that everyone knows it's him; after all, he's worn his heart on his sleeve for her since he met her. Neither does he care if she never acknowledges, never reciprocates his feelings.
Neji calls him a fool. He should simply give up, and accept his fate. Accept that she doesn't love him and that he'd be happier finding someone else who appreciates the expenditure of his hard-earned money.
Tenten shakes her head and sighs. She says he should know better, that she doesn't understand why he keeps doing something so old-fashioned, so outdated.
But Rock Lee doesn't mind. In fact, he likes old-fashioned. Sometimes, old-fashioned works just fine.