she had disrobed, and she was waiting on the floor

China Rose Lykoi · 02-12-2011, 11:55 PM

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As always, her withdrawal was faced by a front of indifferent cool. She could see the cogs slowly turning behind bloodred gaze, the likes of which had drifted now past her feeble form to the crackling wooden bones of the humanplace. Her taunting did not appear to phase him, but it was an unintentional tease, and as such she did not mind. The dove gave and took her affections fleetingly, but always it seemed her curiosity would remain with him. She would think of him, yes; Sometimes in warmth, sometimes in fear, for the blood of her family ran in his veins and this was wickedness. But still, she would. And her body would quicken to the devious memory, and she would look to the hill but see no smoke. This was how it would be.

The silvery girl would practice the coolness of his features, for it was a useful tool to conceal one's emotions, and she could see that now. However, never would she be able to perfect it, for China was the ebb and swell of the tide; too impractical, too fanciful for the life of black and white that Itachi seemed to dwell in. Hers was a life of searing color, and as such it would remain, until her gossamer wings were broken.

She studied him a moment more, measuring his silence with her own. Then, "I will miss you, Itachi." As a parting gift, she would dart forward to lick the tip of his nose, should he allow it. Slender limbs would then be put to use, melting back into the frosty world of the mountain.

Her footprints would show that she headed directly back to Inferni, stopping only once to pause and look back at the now invisible glade, as though cerulean eyes could see through the foliage to the delicious form of the golden youth.

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