Oh, it felt like heaven

China Rose Lykoi · 01-01-2012, 07:15 AM

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Wordcount: + 772

She had wandered again, taken to foot to explore the forest that surrounded Itachi's dwelling. The forest welcomed China like a lover, caressing her with its wind and its trees, cradling her deep within its mysterious and healing silence. The folds of cold emerald and frosted brown spoke of the fullness of Winter, held back only by the breath of the mountains already capped by snow. Although a creature of the warm Summer and sweet Spring, the girl's pelt held some of the hues of winter - Sweet ivory on her vulnerable throat, her muzzle, her youthful body. Hands reached out to stroke the harsh bark of trees, claws lazily and delicately rasping over the roughness there, leaving small tracks like the ones across her throat.

The day grew dark, and China found herself returning to the place that smelt like the fur over her shoulders, smelt of her golden Lucifer. She had the silent grace of a doe, the ivory feathers of a dove, the wide blue eyes of warm watery depths. She was beautiful, but not fully, not yet - Her pelt had not the shine to it, her bones still hard and fragile angles. She was not fixed, not yet. But a misplaced faith deep within her spoke seductive words; He could fix her. Maybe, maybe he would.

The dying sun bled familiar hues across the crisp, cold sky, and filled with a longing for the warmth of fire of body, she emerged from the wilderness and found him. He was seated against one of the skeletal, crumbling walls which laced the land here like old wounds. Uncertain if he had yet seen her, the girl approached hesitantly. Much as her heart swelled to see the man, interaction with him had been few, and stilted. They were not the careless pair they had been, and there was always a fear within her, now. Eyes of bleeding ruby had hurt her too deeply to be forgiven so readily, so easily, and the scars were not just physical - The marked the way she moved, the way she thought, the way she acted.

Itachi was no longer a boy. Her pretty, dark-lashed eyes observed his angles, his hard muscles, in silence. Adulthood suited him - The youth had blemished from handsomeness to true allure. He was beautiful, spectacular, brooding and yet donned with a pelt so rare and gilded that it seemed to truly be flawed gold, spun of the metal formed deep within the earth. Her pelt, gossamer silver and warm blush, complemented these hues in the way of polar things.

He had touched her very little since that first day, when he had lifted her broken body and taken it back to the warm safe place where he slept. She wondered if the lack of contact was because of disgust - Worried that it was. Worried that he knew, knew what turgid thoughts had claimed her, what sinister results there had been. She was filthy, wretched, vile. Maybe he knew it - Maybe that was why he didn't touch her.

China wasn't sure if she wanted him to. Once, she had ached for his touch - His alone. Monogamy had not suited her, but it had been pressed upon her by adoration, regardless. Now, she felt she didn't deserve it; And even if she had, the nightmares and the face that haunted her beneath the darkness of her eyelids chased away most physical tenderness. However, as her body began to take on some semblance of health once more, her mind instinctively sought to correct itself, to rid itself of the internal illness that plagued her. Perhaps that was why her mind sought to remind her, almost nightly, of that terrible event, refreshing the pain, the terror, the revulsion. Perhaps, through that, it sought some manner to dull the sharpness of the event, to turn it into a scar rather than a bleeding wound.

She approached him carefully, crouching to the ground beside him. Gaze lingered on the regal cheekbones, the golden bangs that danced over eyes that had captured the gruesome sunset. Once, her blushing fingers would have reached to stroke back those waylaid tresses; Now, they clenched and kneaded at the heavy deer fur she had pulled as a shawl about her bony shoulders. Her pointed stare dropped to the earth, and the girl sidled closer before lowering herself to sit on the cold ground, mimicking his posture as she too leant against the cobbled stone wall. It was cold at her back, and she shivered, but did not yet seek the warmth of his inviting pelt.

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