But a Breath
Breathing. Breath. One breath.
Nothing ties her, keeps her, holds her to this world anymore, to the French soil or the cobblestone streets where the blood of the people flows.
A giant called "the people"; she thinks she remembers the sound of them calling, crying, the whoosh of air against her cheek, her jacket, her heart.
Everything is dark—no, wait. It's light.
The color of innocence. The color of purity.
The color of surrender.
Roses, as pure as the virgin snow.
Thousands of them.
Tens of thousands. Millions.
As many times…
As many times…
"Must I say it a thousand times? Or even a million times? My words will never change."
She opens her eyes. It's bright. White.
A rose, the color of his smile, of hope, of heaven and forever and ever, amen; one rose.
Only one, just as there is only one André, one Oscar, one Heaven, one God. One chance—no, wait.
She sees the brilliant green of his eyes, brilliant because he sees her—her, Oscar. All of her.
No, two chances. Two, just as there are two of them—Oscar and André—with two hearts, two minds, two bodies.
Two roses, one white and one red.
Purity and passion.
Two chances, second chance.
A flash of green, of white. Bright.
Everything ties her, keeps her, holds her to this place, now, to the streets paved in gold and the endless day.
One breath. Breath. Breathing.
This is my last contribution to this fandom for a while. I don't know how long it might be before I come back…or if I come back at all. Thank you, everyone, for your encouragement and feedback. I had a wonderful time.
Thank you for reading!