He wanted so badly to see her.

In fact, he wanted it so badly, he could almost taste her - the sweaty 
salt of her nape when closing hours arrived, the bitter expression on the 
angel's face, once so candid, so candid... never candid with him...

There!  The frilly skirt would billow where it would be allowed, but 
stuck close to the legs as though they were the daintiest of things, but 
the power lay just beneath.  The merest sight of her form gave him a 
tingle which could not be described.

She watched the patrons of the shop, milling about, taking orders with 
the ease of a professional.  She looked lonely and happy at the same 
time.

How could she be so lonely, when she had him to watch over her?  How 
could she hide in the solace of empty faces and empty plates?

Decisively, dark-hued pants stretched in an action he knew all too well 
as legs straightened.  Now would be the time, he thought giddily.  Now 
would be the time to say it...

But wait.  The pants stopped, the stiff and grimy worker's clothes stiff 
with tension.  He smelled distrust, as he eyed her figure, so aquiline 
and graceful, yet set as if in confrontation.

Why? He mouthed in frustration.  Why must your vision of me be of evil, 
of the complete denial of truth?  Why must your impression linger, when I 
have given you my all?  Are we not creatures of the same mold, mimics of 
the same breed, afraid of the same pain...?

"I love you."

She picked up the sound, alien at first, but so familiar.  At once, he 
knew that it was lost:  his best gambit did not break through her 
defense.

Before Ukyo could find him, the potted plant plodded away, defeated for 
the night.

***

Switch
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