M - She asked me what it was I want, I said that I

China Rose Lykoi · 02-14-2011, 09:40 AM

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Word Count → 3+ :: table © Sie

There was no reply to her words of comfort, but China was intelligent, and she had grown to accept that there would be none. Just as Itachi learned and reflected how to deal with her own peculiar interactions, the silver girl was adapting to his own. She was no longer offended by his cool, wary silence, but accustomed, and somewhat endeared, to it.

However, he smiled more now than when they first met. It was a true assumption that she did not notice how these smiles seemed to be saved for her company alone, but had she known such, China would have been flattered.

Rather than decline her invitation, the boy succumbed obediently to her wishes, and with the smallest of deliberations reclined gracefully to the cold floor. The day was not as cool as it would have been, prior to the blustery storm, but China was still grateful for the warmth conjured by his slightest touch. The weigh of his head in her lap was a welcome one, and crossed legs were a perfect support for the boy's reclining figure.

Cool, light fingertips brushed through stained strands of gold. A small tuttering sound spilled from her throat, as the willowy Fae leaned over him, Lapis Lazuli fixed disconcertingly on the point just above his own rubyrose. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Grasping a handful of snow, she held it in a fragile fist until her fingers became numb, and water seeped from between the blushed hues. Releasing the remnants of sludge, China then began to groom through the darkened locks, her attention fixated on removing these blemishes from his otherwise glorious halo. As she fiddled, the hippie girl hummed softly beneath her breath - The tunes were vague, but pleasant nonetheless.

With lackadaisical precision, she cleaned the few splotches, pausing occasionally with a dreamy expression to run cool fingers through the boy's soft hair. Even after the ink was removed, she paused only to scrub her hands in the never-ending white, before resuming to toy with the gold-spun strands.

Her gaze had become vacant, fixed far away; her head no longer tilted down towards the boy. Without warning, she paused her humming to speak. "Do you ever dream about what it would be like to fly, Itachi?" Completely unfazed by the random absurdity of the question, she paused in her absent fiddlings to continue, breathlessly, "I think it would be most wonderful. Like, the best feeling, maybe in the whole world."

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