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"I'm in love with you."
The pitter-pattering rumbles from her heart had bloomed thousands and thousands of Summer flowers, and Itachi could feel it. The roots from her flower had already reached towards him, it entwined and tangled his soul until he was stuck in her flower field. Itachi had never felt so alive before, when those pretty, little words dripped from her lips. But when the nightmare was staining his lungs, he held his breath.
"You once asked if things would be different if we met in another lifetime, but I don't care! Wherever you are, whatever dimension, world, lifetime we live in—I would still choose you over and over again even if it kills me because I love you."
Tears spilled onto the floor, "So save me, please, just don't leave me."
His mouth were open, but he couldn't speak. Instead, Itachi had rested his forehead against hers; the body heat of each other's warmth grew hotter than the Summer's heat. Then, ever so slowly did a trickle of cold water stain the floor of her bedroom. Itachi had cried that very night. The flowers in his soul was beginning to fleet away, rotting into a dry corpse. He watched her fingers clinging onto him, looking as though she was afraid he'd disappear and the truth wasn't far from it.
The two teenagers leaned their lips closer and tasted the mixture of salty tears and honey from the tip of each other's tongue. His hands moved on it's own, like it had it's own subconscious mind as it roamed across her bare skin. He then grazed his teeth against her skin, writing poetry on her neck and collarbone as soft rose marks tattooed her skin.
Itachi looked away. He was afraid that if he touched her too much, she would break like a fragile porcelain. But to the girl, it didn't matter, because the way he touched her and looked at her was enough for her flowers to grow again. She pulled him closer as the moonlight filled their bodies. But nothing in this world could last forever.
"I'm sorry", he spoke as he watched her fall asleep in his arms.
When the morning sun awoke from its slumber, she was met with a lonely morning. The warmth that was once beside her was now cold and abandoned, not even a "goodbye" letter was waiting for her. The female pulled the blanket around her naked body; a lingering scent of the moonlight from last night could be smelt. It reminded her of him. She wanted to cry, but it seemed as though there were no more tears, and perhaps, not ever.
