[He opens the door to the room and gestures to the desk, where a large, flat gift is wrapped neatly in traditional cloth wrapping paper. When Ritsuka opens it, he will find a painting.
Soubi has poured his heart and soul into this painting: lilies. Thousands upon thousands of small lilies, pastel blue, lavender, soft pink, gently glowing yellow, the same type that live on the hill upon which Soubi and Ritsuka have met so many times. They are pictured from the ground up, as if one is as small as an ant: the taller flowers tower so that the viewer can barely see over them, while the smaller ones offer their petals toward the viewer like the seats of faerie thrones. Through the highest petals filters bright sunlight, turning the green stems vibrant and the petals iridescent. In the small slice of sky visible beyond the flowers, a single red butterfly soars on the wind.]
O____O /DEAD OF CUTE
[He opens the door to the room and gestures to the desk, where a large, flat gift is wrapped neatly in traditional cloth wrapping paper. When Ritsuka opens it, he will find a painting.
Soubi has poured his heart and soul into this painting: lilies. Thousands upon thousands of small lilies, pastel blue, lavender, soft pink, gently glowing yellow, the same type that live on the hill upon which Soubi and Ritsuka have met so many times. They are pictured from the ground up, as if one is as small as an ant: the taller flowers tower so that the viewer can barely see over them, while the smaller ones offer their petals toward the viewer like the seats of faerie thrones. Through the highest petals filters bright sunlight, turning the green stems vibrant and the petals iridescent. In the small slice of sky visible beyond the flowers, a single red butterfly soars on the wind.]