Greetings friends! This is a small project because I don’t have a lot of free time, I hope you all like it. There are 2 perspectives, a young girl and a 20ish man. THERE IS NO ROMANCENCE BETWEEN THEM! Be warned for a lot of angst and depressing stuff. Thank you, I will try to be consistent but I may forget once and a while. Updates sporadically.

Edit#1: Btw there is some inspo from the Ao3 fanfic: That one time Fyodor fell in love with a serial killer. And the wattpad story: ephemeral. And yes I am a boungou stray dogs fan. The “plot” is completely original from me. I don’t know if it even considered a plot. Bye friends.

The wind was harsh, unbareable even. Only one person was on the streets, clutching an overcoat to their chest. The person was scowling and muttering under their breath, cursing the sky for this wretched day.

The market was quiet for a Wednesday, as a light crescendo of rain cascaded downward from the miserable sky. The alleyway inhabiting the market was abandoned except for a few stalls, and an old man snoring soundly, his hat slightly tilted to shield from the rain, or maybe it was as the ever-blowing wind. A frail hand slid through the slit of the coat, snatching food from the unlucky folk who hadn’t had time to deassemble their stalls.

Stolen goods clung to the inside of the overcoat, the neighbors were unbothered by the stomping and squelching in the undecorated hall, for this happened too often for any reaction.

The person opened the door to their apartment, kicking off mismatched boots onto the floorboards, watching as their blind dog turned to the direction of the noise. The person ignored the dog and instead started taking out the goods and dropping them on the floor.

A small square window allowed the view of depressed trees and soggy bushes. The dog sat beside them, making a sad attempt at a nudge to the arm.

A small beam of light invaded the room, almost hitting the dog in the snout but eventually settling between them. The light was like an old friend, a newly-boughtpuzzle piece fitting in a worn-out puzzle.

A wilted lily of the valley sitting in the corner, almost begging for the light to hit it. After what seemed like a millennium, although if the years did pass, they probably wouldn’t have minded, the dog nudged them again.

The man seemed so feeble against the overwhelming space. Their footsteps were a meesly 100x louder than usual. The padded steps behind followed were very noticeable as well.

The man stripped and turned on the water. The water grew hot as though it had all the time in the world. They got in, their body sank into the tub, the water surrounding them like a mother’s warm hug.

The lavender bath salts were ignored as per usual, an expensive present from an acquaintance that seemed a little bit too friendly.

The dog lay on the withering bath mat, whining into thin air for not getting the head scratches that pleasured him so.

They sat there for such a long time, the water went from scalding hot to a bitter cold. The stiff air had mixed with the the open bath salts, the result was suffocating.

Flowery with stale, mild with petrichor. disgusting with welcoming. seldom with fun.

The air was warmer than the water, they felt good watching the drain suck up the water, the essence of money flying away felt good, the feeling of bills and rent over their head felt good.

Their hand hovered over their dog, temping the idea of petting him. Their dog’s head lifted slowly. The spark was instant, they hadn’t felt his fur in such a long time. They dried off, humming a tuneless melody of notes.

•••••

The day was bright, a little girl with locks of raven crossed the street to her school, humming the same jingle over and over again. A statuesque old man walked side by side to her, completely oblivious to her humming.

•••••

Greeting friends, this is my first chapter, I hope you like it, please correct me if there is any mistakes. Bye friends!

Steam rose up from the tea, the little girl looked at it in disgust, shaking her head and pushing it away for her.

•••••

The man sat on the floor, his body was stiff and rigid. They clutched a brass locket to their chest. The locket made indentations on the hand.

The lavender hadn’t vanished, the smell lingered on his fur.

A ringing came from the foyer, a new neighbour came to say hi. Their dog’s ears perked up, a low growl escaped his throat, the vibration echoed against the flimsy walls. The person knocked a few more times before kicking the door and cursing.

They sighed, turning their head to the pile of stolen produce. Their movements were janky and slow, as they dearly regretted not stealing fewer items. Coming and going from the fridge to the pile was an excruciating task, they took no breaks however, until the fridge was full.

•••••

The girl with obsidian locks twirled her hair, looking out to the school’s gardener. The rose bushes grew outwardly, creating both a nice view and a thorny defence-mechanism. The teacher called on her, she didn’t respond, the teacher called again, she still didn’t respond. The bell rang.

•••••

A small photo frame adorned with golden roses sat upon the floor, the photo had been turned around, only the date showing. 27/4/1817, love you. In her sprawled handwriting. The man faintly remembered brushing against brunette hair, the colour something the man still adored to this day. The sun had come out, its rays of light sprinkled onto the pavement through the clearing clouds like an angel unfolding their wings. The scattering clouds veiled a picture-perfect day of picnics and family photos.

•••••

A girl could be seen clearing out sticks and twigs, putting them into a pile. Anyone passing ignored her or asked where her parents were. “Right here.” An elderly man came out from the forest and stopped them from continuing to question his granddaughter.

••••

The man decided to soak up the sun, he rarely stepped out when it was sunny so it was a surprise to him as well. His movements were unsteady, as though the bones had just appeared in his body.

The park was lively and crowded, things he despised. Families also seemed to think that a Thursday afternoon was the best time to have a family day. A cheerfully coloured (author: I’m Canadian don’t mind the spelling) icecream stand sold balloons with every cone. Balloons bounced with each shake of a child’s wrist. The neon rubber was contrasted poorly with the green of plants and the blue of the sky.

Scattered leaves and wrappers littered the disgustingly grey concrete that plowed through the natural scenery on each side.

A little child sat in a small clearing, she seemed to be around 8 or 9 years old. A comically large pile of sticks sat next to her. Mostly everyone didn’t acknowledge her, only a couple of people bent down to ask her something. They were promptly told off by an older man, most likely in his late 60’s or early 70’s. A shade of brown caught the man’s eye. It was awfully similar to her hair.

... ...

...••••• ...

A man with an overcoat watched the child was raven hair, until being drawn away towards a tree. The child turned back to her sticks, one for every ancestor, 2 for every live family member.

...•••••...

Hello everyone, I hope that you liked the chapter. I know I was gone for quite a while, but I’ll be back to posting enough to keep you guys fed (there’s prolly only one of you) but bye bye and see you later.