Wilting Violetgrass

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Leaving Bubu Pharmacy behind, Qiqi set foot out to the open, the vast land of Liyue Harbor. The hustle and bustle of the city remains loud as ever, but it never really bothers Qiqi. But did she have to go today out of all days? Especially when the sun is bright and warm?
Warm. A feeling she hates but desires at the same time. It's the physical warmth she hates, the one that makes you sweat uncontrollably, the one that gives you a nasty fever, the one the sun supplies. She dreads going out in the daytime, but even as a zombie, she desires warmth. The kind of warmth that makes you feel cozy and fuzzy inside, the warmth that other people can give, through words and actions. A simple "I love you" can do wonders to the poor zombie's heart. It's left tattered and empty, along a sense of cold, too cold.

This bothers her, but since when? She doesn't know. She doesn't know the last time someone held her tightly and whispered it would be alright. Not, Baizhu, not anyone else. She doesn't know the last time someone held her hand tightly, swinging through the crowds, to ease the overwhelming pain. She doesn't know, and that's what bothers her.

She doesn't remember the great accident those years ago, she can only take notice of those who come and go. She only notices when the sun rises and sets, when the clouds gather and disperse, when love finally reaches.

She bumps in to a loving family, with a daughter around her physical age. Though it was only a second, that second could remain with her for years. Truly a great thing. But it wasn't great to remember something like that in her dictionary. The only memories she has is of the reminder that she is alone in this world, always and forever.
She wishes that she could have what that family has. Two parental figures in one abode, sharing and spending every last second together. Having meals with someone who cares about her is a wish. Not a wish, but a burning desire.
A burning desire to be loved, cared about, to be held in someone's arms and being told everything was going to be okay. A burning desire to live and not to simply exist.

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