flowers sleep in paradise ; PG - gen - Pein x Konan

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It’s the sullen click of night that draws Pein out.

He sees the silhouette of her body, her back, blue hair standing not out at night but in. Only the flower bright, dimmed under the moon. Even though he may not see her eyes they are upon him.

“Konan.” He starts, he finishes, walking out to step from behind her, beside her. And for the barest moments they stand together, before she stands just a little back. Not looking at the stars any more than she had the moment he entered an exit’s opening. Not looking at him more than she had started looking at the stars.

“By the time this year ends you have numbered every star.”

Konan does not say a word in reply, head tilted to the barest abbreviation upon the left. Paper does not wither, the petals could not wither. He’s never seen her stood by real flowers. He thinks that if ever such a time comes he will always remember it, though he doubts it would ever be. To not stand directly under sun or rain. All a lunar flower needs is the moon.

But he sees how she looks at the rain and he questions only this fact.

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r&r