Lost Number [Project V.]

Happy Valentine’s~

“My dear friend~” The flower maiden spoke gently, playfully giving him a short bow “Happy Valentine’s Day, Vincent.” her words spoken in a slight melody, a jolly tune so to speak. She offered him a smile while her arms drape to her side. A slight pause before she extended a limb to produce a rose in hand to be given to the male before her.

It was nothing, just a simple gesture. Albeit a show of mild affection for a friend. Accompanied next by the impression of twin roseate petals placing a kiss to his cheek. No shame in showing the male a simple act of friendly love.

It is a simple gesture. Some would say it is nothing. Vincent Valentine, the man to whom the silken strand is offered, could say it is redundant and hardly requires. After all, what use is a Valentine when you are never to expect yours by your side? Of course, of such wistful hope, the crimson gunslinger has long forsaken; thus, similarly, wistful thinking never finds itself ever uttered.

Simply, the crimson specter merely settle with just keeping her company, regardless of her vehement denial that he shan’t do so. Too much history have passed between them for them to be else, but ‘a friend’ both can agree to. A friend, the brunette, to whom my attention becomes directed, is as well. Thus, it is with the same patient rarely granted outside those tiny circles this man holds close, lithe form shifts slightly forward where a mild crouch in upper body may find aristocratic visage coming to level, consequently serving the brunette’s need. In quiet tonality a whisper bade of gratitude is granted before I straighten myself up. A single strand of cardinal red toyed in my hand, upon which I merely gaze upon.

Slowly, I begin to unravel my crimson band. I simply leave a piece of red resting across my shoulder where a lifting of heavy charcoal body soon finds them tie into a crude form of pony tail before I let both laterals fall and proceeds on to collecting the one memento I have of my father. I draw my gaze back, head inclined slightly in a forward tip. “Thank you.”

Has anyone dared, they could say there exists almost a hint of a smile.