Post by AMANE YURI on Dec 19, 2010 16:05:11 GMT -5
So starstruck
baby could you blow my heart up?
He was lost . . . How was it even probable that a weathered native like himself could find himself well and truly misplaced while running an errand! It sounded too comedic, too novel to be conceivable. And yet there he sat, steeling himself against the glacial west wind that howled like a heartbroken coyote into the rapidly darkening afternoon and growing more uncertain as the time ticked by. He honestly should have anticipated this really; there were some occasions, such as the rut he was stuck in now, when he was more taken aback by his own ineptitude than anyone else. Since the beginning of his day he had been utterly unbalanced, whatever vestige of stability that he’d once operated lifted from him the moment he’d tossed the covers back and pursued his Sunday doings. Nothing had gone according to how it should. Every attempt at even the most routine of chores had resulted in failure and grief that had at last driven his Aunt to usher him out of the store to deliver a clients order rather than have him do more damage.
This morning he’d gotten his legs tangled in the sheets and had ended up slamming his chin against the floor, hard enough that by the time he’d stumbled downstairs for breakfast a purplish bruise had colored his jaw. Then he’d been given the key to open the store only to end up misplacing it while he’d been running around cleaning. His Uncle had found it in the refrigerator of all places and they had avoided that crisis with only three minutes before they were scheduled to open. If that weren’t enough he suffered another blow when he was trimming one of his Aunt’s displays, a chore he had always completed perfectly. Except for today. When he sniped off the very expensive central bloom and had carelessly tried to hide the mistake only to knock down the whole thing. The front of the shop had experienced its first floral murder and he was the criminal who’d been sent out on delivery so that further killings could be avoided.
A dark cloud hung over the boys head, all but a tangible vibe of misery and discouragement that emanated from him as he stood among the crowd, patiently waiting for the lights to change. To his chest he clutched the floral project that had been meant for the consumer who had placed a simple, almost monotonous order to the flower shop. It was a beautiful bouquet – and he was eating it. The white and yellow flowers were lilies, so in a way him eating them could be considered cannibalism since that was exactly what his given name meant. The petals were velvet on his tongue, a little bitter for his preference but not so much that they didn’t ease his anxiety as the habit so often did. His chin effectively buried in the flowery festoon, hid the large bandage that concealed his bruise, gingerly plucking away at the foliage, eyes downcast and further shielded by the lip of his favorite hat. The arrangement was supposed to go in a vase not in his mouth, but there was no way that they would ever get to be viewed, as they should. Not when he had lost his way to the establishment where he was supposed to hand them over.
St. Andrea was a rather lengthy stretch of distance from the small Ueno flower shop but not so much as his school. It was a district he passed and occasionally frequented on the days where he wasn’t wholly preoccupied with helping run the store or attending to schoolwork. The only problem was that he’d missed it, fell asleep on the train and unbelievably gotten himself lost in the bustling metropolis of Akihabara without a clue as to why the gods were torturing him today.
TAGGED open;
MUSIC one headlight – the wallflowers;
WORDS 649;
NOTES hahah~ ;
TEMPLATE BY KYRIE FOX
