Asphyxiation

This Deadly Sin I Will Color Green - 2

While Noboru did not think every single little thing on this planet had the potential to be artistic, he had to admit there were some moments in life — brief snapshots — that were infinitely beautiful. That made every little inane thing captured within them unforgettable. He found himself in the midst of one of those precious moments right now.

He stood in one of the school's corridors, shoulder leaned against a dusty glass window pane. It was after the last bell had rung and most students had already left the grounds. Noboru's gaze was on the (h/c) boy below who was one of the few who stayed behind.

Y/n was outside, watering the flowers in large, clay brown planters behind the building. Noboru could not quite place his finger on what made this moment stand out so prominently in his mind, but even the dust, glowing in the dim sunlight, seemed to dance in a natural choreography that was bedazzling to the eye.

Y/n was not doing anything out of the ordinary. Noboru knew the (h/c) boy's friend — t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶b̶i̶t̶c̶h̶ Kana — was in the gardening club at school and Y/n would sometimes help out. Noboru often caught the other boy watering plants or helping them unload large bags of fertilizer. Some days Y/n would be the life of that club, laughing loudly and pulling his friends into ill-timed embraces. Other days, like today, the (h/c) boy was quiet and alone.

There was a faint smile on his face, but it almost looked unreal. As if it were a ghost of the real thing; an impression to make him seem normal; approachable. Noboru watched quietly from his window as Y/n moved on to water the flowers in the next planter over. A shower washed over the lovely yellow petals of the daffodils. Each drop of water looked like a diamond caught in a mere split second of existence: a perfect but momentary treasure.

It was beautiful and Noboru felt the itch to find the nearest piece of paper and pencil. He wanted to draw it — quickly. Before it faded.

But sometimes, art simply did fade and opportunities were missed. Noboru would curse himself more if he cut this moment short. He could sketch Y/n another time; in another place; doing another action. But what burned in his memory most was the impression of Y/n's lips, curled at the ends in the faintest non-smile. What if he never saw it again?

Unfiltered sunlight highlighted Y/n's (h/c) locks. The tranquility in this moment was precious.

Noboru wished then he had more than simply art class with the other boy. He still couldn't figure Y/n out. Every time he thought he did, Y/n's image would morph.

Noboru's hand went idly to the window, index finger dragging through the dust until a clean outline of a daffodil flower was drawn. Then a harsh line was crossed through it as Noboru caught sight of Kana approaching Y/n, coming from around the building's far corner. She, too, was holding a watering can.

Instantly, the strange expression on Y/n's face vanished. The (h/c) boy plastered a wide smile on his lips, waving Kana enthusiastically over. The girl complied and their conversation looked easy; friendly — Y/n said something, Kana laughed and reached a hand out to cup the (h/c) boy's shoulder; the sight of the easy camaraderie burned Noboru's throat.

They were too close; her manicured hands too tainted. And they were all over Y/n.

Noboru's fingernail stabbed the surface of the window, the glass shrieking when he dragged it down, leaving a shallow white cut.

Incidentally, it cut a line right between Y/n and Kana.

Noboru fantasized about making that separation permanent.