she had disrobed, and she was waiting on the floor

Itachi Lykoi · 02-12-2011, 11:36 PM

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The young turncoat would develop and learn as weeks and months passed, but at present time his feeble experience had not yet spoken to him with its wiser words. The canine’s shadowed core had always been wrapped in icy haze and negative temperatures—he knew not what it was to be warm within. The soft songbird’s feathers bristled and turned into sharp thorns of a wild rose, twisting and pulling to be free. Pale arms broke off from her figurine without the taste of battle, for he pondered what had quenched her song and breathed frost into those rare blues she held. It was rejection, cold and constant, for her dance back and forth increased the strength of ripples spreading through still, black water.

Was the flower indifferent with the content in his youthful mind? Ears swivelled back to lean away from her direction, tinted with the lightest spray of gold. She turned again, turned her features smooth and warm, but she could not get away with it forever. Her words meant nothing, for thoughts of another were not necessarily ones of affection. Itachi knew not hate as he had seen it burn in the Aquila’s glare, but it had made him aware of its existence. Warm or cold, he knew he wanted her to think softly of him. But now she was to draw away from him further, and would he returned to his world of winter with barbed wire circling the ice block within.

Though, if this was how it was supposed to be, he would let her go. His eyes’ direction travelled to the wooden skeleton behind the willowy creature, wondering if there would ever burn a warm bonfire within its hollow shell.

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