The center of the city
so busy,
cloudy,
distracted.
It wasn't what Makoto liked
nor what Kyoko was used to.
In the middle of the square,
an orchestra was playing
Debussy's "Valse Romantique".
In the middle of the square,
a brunet was leaving his
guitar on the ground
carefully before approaching
the lavender-haired girl.
"Why don't you play in
an orchestra?" she asked,
curiosity staining her features.
"Because there are no
guitars in an orchestra,"
he explained, calmly.
"Shall we dance, though?"
She shook her head softly.
The brunet took the
cadaver of a flower out
of his pocket, an habit
he had gotten from his
beloved Princess.
And offered it to her,
smiling,
radiant as the sun in the Fall.
Then again, with those
auburn locks and
those forest eyes of his,
he reminded her of Fall.
«You said you'd dance with me if I brought you a red rose.
Here's the world's most beautiful rose. Tonight, you'll bring it close to your heart, and when we dance together, it will tell you
how much I love you.»
And Kyoko smiled
because Makoto was
quoting her favorite
poet, but felt
intimidated when
she remembered
the tale that
fragment belonged to.
Nevertheless,
they danced,
Kyoko's hands
on his neck,
swinging from side to side,
hypnotized by those musicians
that played such a beautiful melody.
Thinking that,
even in tune and perfect,
it didn't sound as good
as Makoto's music did.
Thinking that,
no matter how many
violinists, trumpets
or percussionists
there were in the world,
the only one who could
make music inside
of her was Makoto.
And meanwhile,
Makoto,
with his hands
around her waist,
could barely,
barely, feel her
body.
He felt her so slim,
so fragile,
he could almost see
her collarbones
appear from
under her shirt.
And right there,
gazing the small city
he remembered those times
when he got out of home,
that lonely rented house,
in the mornings
to play on the square
and earn some money
in order to subsist.
And in the afternoon,
he went to that field
in order to survive,
to exist.
And thought,
embracing that
perfect yet fragile
body close to his
that he needed to
get back to work
because he wasn't
the only that
needed to subsist.
Because
with only love,
no matter how
much you want
it to, you can't
survive.
