Wow...I haven't posted in a long time! I'm sorry to those who enjoyed my writing. I've just been going nuts with school! I've been writing, but all for English class. Ha! Nothing to post on here...

This came to me as I passed a lone, wet glove in the middle of a parking lot. It sparked my interest for an unknown reason, and this was born! It's fluffy, a little OOC (it's an AU)...and all of that great junk! Hn, I'll try to write more of Languish and Fear, I promise! Be patient, my readers! It's a long ride...

Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER:Didn't own it a year ago, or a month, or a week, so what makes you think I own it now?

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For all of the people - like a lost glove - without love. Someone out there will pick you up!

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A young boy no older than fifteen hurried across the parking lot. His long, tan colored coat was flying behind him as he sneakers pounded on the ground. Slush, ice, and water splashed up as he darted through puddles and piles of white fluff. Light, circular snowflakes danced around him, some landing in his long mane of silver hair, some just drifting away.

He was holding a bouquet of lilies and roses, one of those fancy kinds you usually buy for a sweetheart on Valentines Day. But, it was the end of November, and that holiday was far away. Still, there the boy was, holding them as though life depended on it.

Not so far away strolled another young man about the age of seventeen. He had his hands in the dark blue trench coat leisurely, as if he had no worries. He didn't seem to notice that he was walking in snow, or that it landed in his silver locks as well. That, or he didn't care.

Come to think of it, he looked strikingly similar to the other boy, despite their age difference. They were about the same height and build, and all of their features were near the same. The only difference were his dark, bloody crimson eyes. The smaller had large brown doe orbs, an odd contrast to the other pair.

Both were very much the same yet curiously different. One might think they would never cross paths, and they probably wouldn't have if the younger hadn't dropped his glove.

It felt out of his pocket quietly with no indication. It landed in a pile of snow as the teen hurried by, never taking a glance back. Others passed, never seeing the lone object without its partner.

No one saw except the other teen.

His crimson slits followed it as it drifted to the ground. He blinked twice, and seemed to ponder what to do with it. Normally he would have laughed and left without a word, but he suddenly felt guilty doing so. He wasn't sure why, but the thought of leaving it kept gnawing at his conscience. Finally, he rolled his eyes, and bent down to carefully pick up the object.

He stared at it a moment before snapping his head up and looking around to find the boy. His eyes scanned the parking lot, and finally spotted the mess of white locks.

He started jogging, trying to match the boy's long pace. He was a bit ahead, but not too far to catch up with, the teen realized.

"Hey!" he called, and quickened his pace. When he was a few feet behind him, he tried again. "Hey, kid!"

The younger stopped in his tracks, and turned on his heel to face the other. "Uh...yes?" He blinked, his eyes a mixture of surprise that someone noticed him and curiosity that the person could be his twin.

The older one slowed down, and stopped a bit in front of the one with the beautiful flowers. "You...dropped this," he muttered as he held out the glove in his hand for the other to see.

"Oh," the boy blinked. "Well, thank you." He took the glove from the teen gingerly and placed it in his pocket again.

"You're welcome...."

"...Ryou," the younger finished with a smile. "And you are?"

The elder one smiled. "Bakura. I'm Bakura."

They stood in a period of silence, just standing, staring at each other, picking out similarities and differences between them without knowing it. Suddenly, Bakura broke the silence.

"Are those for your girlfriend?" he questioned.

Ryou blinked. "Um, what?"

Bakura sighed and said, "The flowers. Are they for your girlfriend?"

After a moment, the youngest laughed. His laugh was soft and sweet, and was like the falling snow. "No, no. They're not!"

"Then who?"

He blinked. "You seem curious. Well...they're for my mum and sister. Well," he hesitated, "their graves, anyway." He looked downward at his feet.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Ryou." The albino smiled slightly in sympathy. "I know how you feel. My ma died too, when I was real young."

The other one looked up, and smiled as well. "I'm sorry as well." His smile grew even larger. "Well, it was nice talking, but i need to go. I hope I'll see you again, Bakura."

"That would be...nice," he answered genuinely, a rare look on his face.

"Happy Thanksgiving!" Ryou called over his shoulder, and started jogging away.

Bakura called back, "You too!" After watching his go into the distance, he turned on his heel, and began to walk to his car in silence.

Yeah. Maybe I will see him again.

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That was sweet! Kinda tendershipping...maybe? Wasn't meant to be. Whatever. Hope you enjoyed this cute little Thanksgiving ficlet!

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