Flowers Can't Fix Everything

As they rounded the corner, Alaska kicked a pebble. It was another lame attempt at trying to take her mind off of everything. Again, she'd named it: Phineas. Why? She shrugged as she pondered that, and settled – yet again – on the fact that she just simply could. Unknown to her, were Brendon's eyes watching her. Since her mother had died, the trauma had taken its toll on her senses. She didn't have the feeling of eyes on her, staring her down, following her every move. She still felt numb, but she'd become accustomed to the feeling. So Alaska did her best to roll with those punches. It was all she could do.

Brendon carefully observed his best friend as she stopped in her tracks, a few feet from a small garden. He approached her as her head fell to stare at the flowers swaying in the gentle breeze. The sun's intensity had subdued mildly, and the clouds had closed in. The day was coming to an adamant end. He took a deep breath as he tilted his head to stare at the pending sunset. He knew it wouldn't last for much longer and sighed, the cessation clawing at his security. Leisurely, the sun finally disappeared behind the cluster of upper-class Romanesque homes, leaving the rest of its surroundings encased by the cover of nightfall. He looked over at Alaska again, and noticed that she was now resting on her knees, her hands brushing the petals of a big, white daisy. He kept his comments to himself as his eyes surveying her hands elaborately. He smiled. She had her mother's hands. Her mother's beautiful, soft, gentle hands. He smiled and strolled over beside her, feeling more like a father than a friend. It wasn't a situation he was particularly fond of, but then again, who would be? He rolled his tongue in his cheek, trying to pass the time as he waited for her to get up and continue walking. He was running out of things to say. He'd more or less stopped thinking about it.

A faint mewl broke the rendering silence and Brendon's eyes flittered towards Alaska.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

She turned to face him, tears staining her cheeks. What it was, Brendon would never know, but something inside of him came alive, and he quickly bent over, his hands caressing her face.

"Alaska, what's wrong?"

She stuttered, the tears coming down even harder than before. "I just can't get over the fact she's gone," she whispered.

Brendon frowned, wrapping his arms around her small frame. She sighed, burying her face in his neck. "You're not supposed to get over it," he said simply. "You're never supposed to."

She wiped her eyes quickly and nodded. "I just thought it would get easier with time, that's all."

He nodded, watching the street. "It will. It's just," he chuckled to himself. "It's only been a month. You have to learn to be a little more patient when it comes to these things."

Alaska looked away in disgust, her eyes fixated on the beautiful flowers. Brendon mentally scolded himself for being inconsiderate and groaned. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"Does nobody understand that this is a big deal? That my mother is dead? That I'll never see her again for as long as I live?"

"Nobody's saying that this isn't a big deal, or that we expect you to get over all of this. I told you, it's not that easy."

"But I want it to be!" she shrieked.

He clung to her as she fought to be free herself from his grip, but if there was one thing Brendon knew, it was that he'd never forgive himself if he let her go. And he didn't.

Alaska lay in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably, as his eyes wandered towards the flower bed. He reached over and picked one of the daisies as it swayed in the night air. He inspected it. It was perfect. Not one petal out of place, not one wilting leaf. Perfection. He stared at his grief-stricken friend. Her eyes were red, her hair was a mess, and her lips were trembling, and yet to him, no matter what, she would always resemble the flower. Beautiful, tender and forever flawless in his eyes.

"Just like you."

Her eyes fluttered wildly as she looked up at Brendon, her grasp on his shirt tightening. "W-what?"

"This daisy. It's fresh and bright and beautiful. It's everything you are." He broke away from her and handed her the daisy. She reached for it cautiously, taking it between two slender fingers. She stared at it for a moment, wondering what it could mean.

"This doesn't change that she's gone," she murmured to no one in particular.

"Who said she ever left?"

Alaska gave him a warning glare.

He shook his head. "She's only gone if you say she's gone." He stared at the flower, then into her beautiful brown eyes. "And every time I look at you, I see her." His hand brushed gently against her cheek and her lips parted ever so slightly. "She's always with me, through you."

She blinked. "Then how is she always with me?" She sighed. "Who does she shine through?"

Brendon's heart ached at the question. He'd hoped that maybe her mother shined through him a little bit. The pain was apparent on his face, just not to Alaska. She was determined not to look at him. She knew the harshness of what she'd said, and she regretted it.

"I know who she shines through, Brendon," she whispered. "I just don't see it in me."

He frowned and leaned in, pressing his lips to her forehead lovingly. "Then leave it for everyone else to see."

Alaska's heart skipped a beat as his lips came into contact with her skin. They were warm and gentle as they touched her brow. She felt herself exhale, a long forgotten calming sensation trickling through her body.

Brendon looked down at her and felt his heart swell. He'd been waiting this for longer than anyone would ever know. It was plain as day on her face. There she was, in all her beautiful naivety, right in front of him, with a smile spreading on her lips. For that one pivotal moment, it didn't matter that her hair was a mess, or that her eyes were tired and bloodshot, or that he himself hadn't bathed in a few days. All that mattered was that he couldn't remember a day in his life where she'd looked more beautiful.

"Let me take you home."

He took her hand in his and the grin grew. He kissed her hand gently and they stood up.

From any other person's point of view, they looked like a pair of sinfully indulgent teens with not a care in the world, and in all fairness, that's exactly what they were. But at the same time, they were so much more than that. They had secrets and stories hidden deep within themselves that no other human being could ever judge. They had ideas and opinions that no other human being could ever comprehend. And there was one more thing that made them inexcusably untouchable.

They were in love.