(Untitled)

[simon_doctor]

Three years ago today.

He didn't quite dare bring it up last night, but it's been on his mind most of the week. Remembering their first anniversary, and their mostly-ignored second, on which it seemed unlikely that their marriage would survive to have a third

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[gonna_live]

She shouldn't, she figures, do anything special. Last year -- last year at this point they mostly didn't have a marriage; this year she's falling to pieces. They're not talking about it. What's there to celebrate?

On the couch, cup of tea, headphones in, staring out the balcony doors into the gloaming.

[simon_doctor]

Simon sets down most of his purchases (and other acquisitions) on the kitchen counter, quietly, and comes into the living room.

"Kaylee?"

[gonna_live]

-- the timbre doesn't match.

She pulls out one headphone, and turns.

Forces a small smile. "Hey."

[simon_doctor]

He sits down next to her, and holds out the bouquet: red roses, and a spray of some tiny pale flower that he doesn't know the name of.

"Happy anniversary, ai ren."