lilymagicals

Jean Kirstein, born within the warm spring breeze in beautiful season where all the flowers are blooming. For Pieck Finger, Jean was someone who lived his own life with divine purposes and had his own authority over it. She was never seen him being shaken by anything that will affect his decision in life. For Jean Kirstein, Pieck Finger was the one to keep him walking in a slow pace without going any full throttle. When both of them thought everything would be perfect if they were together, it was rather vague than it was being a crystal clear like they both wished for.

Growing up together, they shared each other’s affections through cello and piano by understanding the language of music. Jean and Pieck weren’t able to be torn apart, at least for more than one decade of being on each other’s side.

“You might find it cheesy and cliche...”

“What is it, Jeanbo?”

“If I were to be your personal poet artist, you will always be my muse.”

The Jean that Pieck knew used to pour all of his madness into threads of beautiful words aside from the melodies he made through cello’s strings and bow. Jean loved to write everything about Pieck, also about him when she is around near his reach. The youth they spent together was filled with a pure epitome of blissful first love.

“Pieck, how do I live without you?”

On that one of Trost’s evening under the starry night sky, nineteen years old Jean mumbled the words into himself, but loud enough for both of Pieck’s ears to catch the sound of his words.

None of them would realize if those empty words that came from his deepest thought would came into a new form of reality.

All she knew that he left her, Jean left Pieck, to find the answer of his own question.

Not because the love has left both’s side, it was rather because of Jean’s greed and courage to let go of the little girl whom he spent his half life together with, for the sake of their far-reaching future which made him sure, they were better to be off apart.

“How are you gonna live without me, Jean?”

Since the day he turned his back and walking further away from her, she already missed that broad shoulder which used to be her favorite place to lean on. And since then, Pieck was destined to find the answer for her own question alone. Would Jean be able to live without her? Or was it her who couldn’t live without him?

Eventually, after several springs has passed, the Jean who left her started to resemble their last song that will be faded away as the last notes found its ending.