MCYT Oneshots And Head-cannons

pick a flower

There they were, just sitting on the wall.

The old wall that has always been covered in vines, never had they seen it clear, with flowers on them. The vines crept in and out of the cream stone of the wall,  weaving through any and all cracks in then deteriorating wall. It almost looked like the plants were holding it up. The green and cream always looked lovely to them, like an intricate design in a painting or some wall paper someone would have in their observatory. They adored the look, no matter how old and tattered it looked to others. Even when their friends tell them that 'the wall will fall one of these days'. No matter how many times one of them fell off, they would stay put. It was their safe space.

The trees around them acted like a barrier between them and the world. It almost was a hug from nature. Like the world is protecting them from the view of others. The cool green tone of the leaves gave a sense of comfort to the duo. Reminding them of day past. Days of running around the clearing, laughing, getting anyone involve they could. Their best friend always up for a game. The feeling of familiarity rather than change. Days of comfort, temporary safety. Things never changed back then, now the world for them change daily. Little sense of continuity. They had each other for that, no one can change that. Not anymore, not after all they had been through.

Not after the years of running and hiding, just for a feeling of safety. No more pressure for perfection. No more being forever lost in endless hallways and corridors. No more losing each other and the ones they care about. No more separation. No more hate for the life they lived.
Just safety. Just comfort. Just them. Them and their make shift family.
Something no one can take away.
As they sit, thinking of what life could be or wasn’t. Sitting in comfortable silence, not a peep from either of them. Sitting watching the sun set. A real, beautiful, sunset. The violent reds clash with the calm blue. The orange bleeding with the pink like a dance the pair would do together when life got that bit to hard. Yellows like liquid gold mix with the Suns tears. Tears it would shed everyday till the world stands still, yet that didn’t matter. The colours meaning comfort for a violent and dangerous past, the calm after the storm. Yet, it’s beauty was still not lost. It was clear how fantastical the battle of colours and shade in the sky is. The sliver of the moon held against the gold of the sun, making a show of colour never seen other than in the sky.

The friends have done enough running for a life time. Now all they just want to stay still for a while. No longer running from each other any more. No need to be apart.
Now they are sitting together on a wall, just sitting on the cream wall. Holding hands. Two platonic soulmates watching the sunset. Two best friends in front of the trees.
App picks a flower from the vine. He puts the pure white camellia into Owen's umber hair.

“I’m sorry Apo”

“it’s okay now, we’re here, things are great and nothing can go wrong anymore, “Apo took a breath, “I know you still feel guilty, I still feel angry but what can we do. “

Apo takes Owen into a hug. As their arms are engulfing each other they sit. They sit in silence. They sit remembering all they have gone through. From the lie to the what happened on February 19th. They both have regrets. Both had a past they don’t want to mention.

“Thank you for the flower” Owen said touching one of the ivory petals. Apo smiled at him.

As the sun slowly fades into the nigh, the colours all blend to one deep blue. The trees sway in the wind. The vines continue to weave into the wall. The wall being something more.

There they were just sitting on the wall, a wall they now both can associate with comfort

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This is also posted on ao3
I wrote this for and as homework