Work Text:
Lily-White Rapture
A rushed man falters his step; an angelic lily escapes his grasp, descending listlessly through the crisp, autumn air.
It evokes bleach-blonde bangs across pale skin. The steady murmur of the seasons' first downpour. A sizzling quietly echoes; the light aroma of seasoned sauces coerces its way into the room.
The subtle taste of red wine on his lips; a blur of white petals are the last thing to catch his gaze as heavy lids flutter closed.
The lily lies lifeless in the street as he saunters past, alone; a humble smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.