Epilogue of Seasons

A/N: All disclaimers applied. I extracted beautifully expressed proses from the poems of Gary R. Hess and E. E. Cummings for a better flow of the story. Hope you'll like it. : )

"I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses…"

His soft voice was barely heard in the streets of the beautiful city. His heart was sore and he was almost lifeless; only a drop of air and great determination to somehow survive the next few days kept him alive. His handsome eyes were absent of emotions and everything he did, there wasn't any sort of reasonable motivation.

"I do not know…" he breathed to his cold fingers, staring at his frozen hands. It was inviting death to go out into the streets gloveless, much more so coatless. And Takeru Takaishi, only a few hours returned from his hometown, was one of a few recipients of the award.

"I love you much more than anyone on the earth and I like you better than everything in the sky," his murmurs were decipherable only to himself. People pointed, stared and whispered, but did it matter to him? His hair shone in the weak sunlight and wet with the coldness of snow. His heart was dripping blood not in him, but somewhere else, somewhere he can no longer reach.

His heart was lost, his soul was gone and his bones were lifeless.

"My eyes will not see what they longed to see," he tried again and again, buried by the merciless snow. "My lips will not taste what they longed to taste. My eyes…"

A sultry, purring voice welcomed him.

"It's been very, very long…" A woman, he knew clad only by a blood red flowing coat was reclining at his bed when he returned. Her long, wavy auburn hair was purring for his pleasure and her chocolate doe eyes drawling for his eyes. He shook out of his wet black shirt, not bothering to answer her more than warm greeting. She pouted dangerously, a gleam of vengeance flashing in her eyes.

"Where have you been, boy? It's been long since…" her eyelashes rose beguilingly to him. "Since the last time you were around in my place…" she fingered her hair, her eyes only for him.

She was satisfied when he finally spoke up. "How long have I kept you waiting?"

"Quite long…" Her crimson lips curved. "You've got a lot to make up for."

He answered by leaning in and kissing her on her throat. She moaned hungrily, grasping his golden hair and massaging his bare back. He kissed her shoulder blades, eliciting a low groan from her. His long fingers journeyed from the tip of her toes to her thighs, closing his eyes to her.

I can imagine she is someone else…

He buried himself in her long hair.

It's very easy…

A drop of sweat trickled down his back.

It's not hard…

She growled in his throat.

It's not at all…

He breathed in her strong perfume.

Isn't it?

"I can't," he murmured in her ears, again and again. "I can't. You have to leave."

It had been a hard day of slamming the door politely in angered women's faces and steadfastly ignoring calls from friends and 'friends'.

Paris hadn't changed without him. But he had changed without it.

Lifeless, hopeless and aimless. He had nowhere to go, except burying his life in the excruciating pain of loss. If he hadn't followed his feeble whim, if he hadn't gone back… His life would still be worth living.

His rose had been picked from its roots by another gardener. It was enough to want to exile his self. At least, knowing she had been his their last moments together…

The doorbell rang. Curled in a sofa and staring out of the window, he didn't get up. To him, there was nothing worth moving for. The view outside of his window was enough to last him a lifetime.

It rang again. He shut his eyes and vivid images came alive behind his eyelids. The doorbell rang and rang, but he had already slipped into unconsciousness.

Fortunately, the older woman hadn't bothered locking the door on her way out or the newcomer couldn't come in.

She dropped her bags on the floor with a thud. His eyelids flickered to life, blinking.

There was a scent, a familiar one, crooning the room with its sweetness.

With a voice of a thousand blossoming roses and astonishingly laughing hearts, she called out to the man on the sofa.

"I'm home."


A/N: Well... That's it. End of the end. I hope you have immensely enjoyed the ride. : ) If you're wondering why I rewrote the story, it's because I felt that I disappointed the readers with my petty offerings and also, because I hadn't enjoyed the Takari romance. It was barely there and I was rooting more for Daikari than Takari... That's my little excuse, guys! Hehe.

Songs Listened to : Falling Star by Jet and Breathe by Angels & Airwaves