03-12-2008, 11:37 PM
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-sputter- I am so sorry for that wait. My health and inspiration jumped off a cliff. Ever the oxymoron, Poe was an antiromantic romantic. She could not (or maybe merely would not) claim to have been in love, while she would freely, warmly admit that she had loved many. In this, she knew romance, lust and all the rest very well, entwining herself in them as often as they presented themselves. And with a twirl and a flare, she was presented with a handsome silver stranger, with pure and pale green eyes that slowed her spin and turned her head over her shoulder. There was something exceptional about this man, she decided then and there, in the spur of a split second. A distant familiarity, like she had seen him before in a dream, or a crowded, passing glimpse. They shared something she did believe, but was ignorant of. She was a ballerina with her curvy hips and legs covered in the long gown, a tiny top set delicately above the swishing fabric. A sugar plum fairy dancing before the nut cracker prince on this cool, crisp night. In beat and tune, the dark dancing girl made her way to the pale boy and opened both hands to him, a silent request for a partner. Her mouth spoke different words, unwilling to make things so simple, too romantic. "And you never will again," she assured him with a pixie grin. "So you'd better follow along."  | ||