seventh, and last.

You can trust me. I've always been here and I always will be.

She is staring with wide, open eyes and he is staring back. Millennia and eons have etched their marks in dust on his waiting mouth, and he swears he feels gravity's grip loosen from his ankles.

Her fingers flutter lightly in his, like the beating of a butterfly's wing. Aside, his umbrella is dark against the ground.

"You can trust me," he repeats quietly, watching a raindrop kiss the curve of her cheek. It traces a slow line towards her lips.

When she leans into him, catching his free hand with hers, she tilts up on balanced ballerina toes and tips her umbrella back. Her whisper is warm against his ear.

"Thank you for being such a good friend to me."

They are forever the same: running in a straight line, in the same direction, reaching for an oblivious back. There are fleeting moments when you can see something in his eyes as he passes by, but it disappears like sunlight behind trees.

He brings her invisible roses every day, dropping them quietly on her desk with his greetings. They sit and wilt, one after the other, under her idle hands and wayward eyes. Every day, he watches them dry up. Untouched and unnoticed.

He wonders if he'll stop or if she'll see them first.

{a bystander's bouquet}

A/N: one of the best things I think any writer can do is to challenge himself or herself by writing something outside of their comfort zone. having said so, this was incredibly difficult for me to write, as I am not a fan of this ship. still, I have put my all into this story and done my best to try and properly reflect each of the characters' perspectives. I hope that my efforts paid off and that you all had a good read; know that I enjoyed writing this :)