[ Her expression turns into a frown, but it lasts only moments before it turns into acceptance. Flowers die, as they do, and there's little use in mourning them. So she takes that already wilting flower from him and holds it aloft between two fingers while her other palm goes below it as if she's holding an imaginary pot.
And just like that, blades too small to be seen by the human eyes cut into the petals and the stem, crisscrossing relentlessly through the poor flower until all that's left is unrecognizable dust and the sense of something electric in the air. ]
no subject
And just like that, blades too small to be seen by the human eyes cut into the petals and the stem, crisscrossing relentlessly through the poor flower until all that's left is unrecognizable dust and the sense of something electric in the air. ]
And so.