Where do you start from if the only thing you have are, broken torrid memories?
Where do you go to collect those soggy puzzle pieces that were left to die in the pond long ago?
How do you paste these things back together?
Hibari sighed walking into class 3-b, his cheeks tinted red. This was all so foreign to him. He didn't know what he was doing at all. He had spent hours on the Internet trying to figure out how to 'redeem himself' and how to get into your 'good graces' once again. He looked around, spotting you and your friends gathered around your desk. As he started to move, the eyes of your fellow classmates flung towards him, eager to follow his direction. Your classmates cower in fear, wondering who was to become the Perfect's next victim.
The two of you made eye contact once he had reached your desk. You asked what he was doing here, fingertips shaking. A bouquet was dropped on your desk with a grunt, before the perfect took his leave. Your classmates began to whisper all around you but you ignored them. You looked up the place where he stood and then down at the bouquet, before pulling the note attached to the green plastic bonding them together. You were in shock .
"I'm sorry."
It was simple, but it pulled at your heart. Hibari being sorry was foreign to you. It was new, raw, evoking a powerful emotion to the surface once again. Sorry was coming from the man, who never seemed to pay attention to you. You looked at the flowers noticing each one had a different meaning. Which was also attached to the note.
Ambrosia: your love is reciprocated.
Arbutus: I only love you.
Red Carnation: My heart aches for you
Purple Hyacinth: I am sorry
They were mismatched and badly put together, but there was a strange beauty about them that made you smile.
Hibari trying was foreign.
But he was trying.