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Post by Deleted on Aug 13, 2014 4:31:36 GMT -5
- s l e e p i n g s e a / awakened - "All this body is, is a ragged tragedy, a costly exchange of happy endings." @ara ---------------------------------------------------- His steely-blue eyes shone with frustration, a frown deepening its lines above his eyes as they skimmed through a letter. A letter from the Liechtenstein Minister of Sports, demanding a better hospitality for its Quidditch athletes and coach, a 'more lavish' accommodation and privileges; not forgetting to include a tinselled and unabashed complain on their previous World Cup stay in the Great Britain. Hardly pleasant.
This is no time to be worrying over your athletes, Emil thought, silence on all fronts, and in pops your indictment. Why had this letter concerned him, anyway, when it should other department? Instead, he brandished his silver quill, and with genuine, careful strokes, flourished his reply; not forgetting an aphoristic retort and a formal request to direct all future sports-related concerns to the Department of Magical Games and Sports. ..resile from preferentially treating our athletes, Mr. Darkholme.. regardless, it is our due honor and responsibility..
Another memo for the department itself, and Emil let his thoughts wander away for the first time today; his gaze drifting towards the leather-smooth, polished book standing innocently on the bookshelf. Her nineteenth birthday, he recalled perfectly; her smiling eyes, the way she had made him feel, her beauty that sent a dull ache coursing through his veins. Smiling, he walked over to the shelves, handled the book gently down the rack and leaned against the wall as he began opening the book; letting the flood of memories wash over his reality.
24th December. This was the day, the one day he had always returned to even after all these years. It seemed only yesterday. Except that he had thinned, the graven creases on his face grown sharper and his fiery eyes revealed a certain sadness. Wistfully, he closed the book and went to his desk, perusing several parchments which had just arrived.
The serenity of the enclose of his apartment was not helping him to fully focus on the parchments, either; whose solitude likened that of the night before miseries began pouring down on him. Emil, the high-minded man who patiently waited for the woman he so loved, who relentlessly paced back and forth beneath the winter whistles; until the dark streets melted the smiles and laughter away in slow currents, and panic began to strike its chords as he searched all over for her tender voice, only to find the resonance of dawn having broken his happiness, his hopes, every promise they had made behind their backs. The blacks and whites, unmasked and unambiguous, whose quiet shadows carelessly whispered him the cruel truth each coming year.
And each year, he let himself break down in guilt and shame; abandoned and shattered, swallowed by the incredible emptiness of his bedroom and her lingering scent; even when he had tried not to.
Yet his ship had never sailed away. There was no thunderous anger, nor steams racing up while his memories of her fell further, and further behind. Del. Her gentleness against his skin, her endearing morning elegance, one whose every inch had been his to care for, her exquisite cleverness that enraptured his train of thoughts, even her visions that so often brutalised her sleeps at night; hers was the slender soul that he silently vowed to embrace for eternity, whose heart he had thought to have belonged with his. How could those quiet wonders ever be forgotten, his thoughts defending his strong emotions. There was only one person that he had promised to protect, and somehow, he had failed without knowing exactly how; and now, he had a public vow to protect the whole Wizarding World. Emil chuckled dryly, feeling his strength gradually sapped away as the evening sank.
No, he had never left the harbour. So he waited, through one night that grew into a season; and thought, as the season blossomed into a year; endlessly regretting his mistakes and forging himself into a better man. Two.. Eight. Ten. For all his letters had been worth, they could not make her come back. She never would, the shadows spoke, finding joy in betraying what splinters of hope he had gathered in a decade. Perhaps she is afraid, Emil kept telling himself, of me, or she might hate me. For pushing Skylar away, into the darkness, his secret hidden away from her; for debating with her when she resolved to move into his apartment; for chasing the dreams of his wants instead of his needs, and for a hundred other reasons he had painfully counted up. Resting the bundle of letters from the Bulgarian Minister, Emil ruffled his hair in self-frustration, his gaze falling once more on the book.
He had let no one knew, not even Jill; because he needed to be strong by himself, even without Del and her. But perhaps this is the last time I would go, he thought equivocally.
The moon was hiding itself away behind the broken clouds, just as it had that lifetime past. It was hardly mysterious. But something rather ominous was brewing in the air tonight, and Emil could not pretend that he did not know why. It was a full decade ago, Emil, do you think you can live forever? Where is she? She was never present. She might be happily married. Let her go. Let yourself go.. The moon-greyed pavements of Marylebone were bustling with Christmas shoppers and young couples, yet those streets were equally empty; for in the crowd of faces, there was only one whom Emil constantly looked for, and she was missing. Yet there he was, finding himself treading on the whitened stones, his strong eyes glancing and darting, searching for a familiar sight that would end his endless wait. He walked past the places he brought her to, the places he could perfectly see behind closed eyes. Infuzia. Sienna's Boulangerie, Co., The Curbside. Emil stopped himself in front of the wisened man's house gates, the man with the generous collection of books, just like he did that night, and wondered if the man still remembered her. What if he does? She never would come back.
Emil grew restless. He knew that this was meant to end, that if tonight could be the proverbial end to begin a certain lease on life; he knew them. Please, Del, come back. As his heart broke for the hundredth time, his expression betraying those masked emotions within; he carried on his search tirelessly, until time ebbed away through his fingers, until the shoulders of his black coat grew thick with driven snow. The next thing he did would have startled everyone.
Unable to bring himself to taint their fragile moments at those little shops, he walked towards City of Justice, a bar that usually whirled and stormed with tall, gangly men whose eyes flashed with menace wherever they went; but the place seemed rather sombre tonight. He needed his tangled thoughts untangled, and his caged heart released, and he needed his time alone, only for tonight. Stepping in warily into the dimness, he glanced across the stacked chairs and tables, and his gaze landed on the pleasant-looking young man behind the bar, busying himself with his opening shift for the night. The man finally looked up at Emil and motioned to the clock; that the bar had yet open, but he had allowed Emil to stay.
"These Muggle drinks.. They are much stronger than those we would ever allow," he spoke to himself, his gaze drooping as his figure slumped forward, toppling the empty whiskey glasses down the tables. He had not seen the burly man he bumped into as he did, nor of his heartless stare that looked down at him, as if he was nothing more than a misfortunate peasant. All he saw was bleary; the dangerous man was a fuzzy figures that he could not register, his angry curses dreamy inklings that lilted in his ears. Death-marks were written all over his forehead.
Smashed and dislocated, the bones in his legs shot a stream of nails with each move he took; the flesh on his face and chest sweating red with each impact blown by heavy, ring-riddled fists. An alarm blared in his mind, yet he could not use magic, for there must have been thirty Muggles around him, and he was in no condition to defend himself. Vulnerability veiled him like a silken cloth. Each jab was more painful than the next, thundering and hammering him down on the cold stones. All his visions and consciousness fleeted away into the edge of darkness, and a sense of safety took him in just as suddenly.
That voice from the past? __ __
Struggling to bring the words out of his broken lips, he grimaced at the awakened pain, feeling the sentences swallowing itself down his gut. His eyes could find no trace of strength to open. "Don't," he breathed. "Don't be afraid. I'm sorry, Del..."
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Post by Deleted on Aug 14, 2014 5:25:11 GMT -5
"The stars became entangled, away from the sleeping sun." @ara ----------------------------------------------------From the steely sieve of his eye, little sparks of lost past played his visions; each glimpse replaying itself over and over again like broken records. Him lying on her lap on the fine couch, beaten and fractured; him lying on her lap beneath the spring twilight amid the hidden sylvan of the Alps beyond, so alive and passionate; all taking turns in shades of browns and whites.
As knife-like scratches on old newspapers, his consciousness whitened-out while their memories flashed clearer; and he saw himself clearly. A canvas once lofty with elegant strokes, glorious with a thousand tessellating colors; left to fade into an ivory white enamel. Fragile, vulnerable, blank. Desperately, he painted them with every hurl of remembrance he could latch onto.
On the first meeting at Hogwarts, in his final year; a splash of green and silver, another of blue and bronze. On the night he first kissed her lips, under the nervous, nascent drizzles of October snow on her nineteenth birthday; a blazing trail of red and golden trickled thickly down. Each shade was dripping painfully quick, and he could not help but watch their graceful descent; each whirl and swirl a kaleidoscopic puddle on the porcelain floor.
Who are you to have thoughts of good fortune? You, who had never seen true sorrow in the face. All the world is a tragedy, made up of stories; not these atoms that pierce through your bones. All the world is a waking dream; spat the lengthened shadows for the last time as the pearl white of her hair shone through the darkness.
In a moment like this, he wrecked blame on himself for not being able to catch her when she ran towards him, for not being able to take her in his arms as their skin met. These slashed wings were not what he had to give to her, this jagged flesh not what she had deserved to see. Make this right, Emil, he willed himself to stay awake, though barely, tell her everything. Tell her it's all forgiven. Tell her to stay.. She will or will not understand, Emil, you try. He found no strength to fully wake, or speak. But the pain was lessening, and he thought he could move his body an inch or two. Just like he used to, Emil shifted, ever so slightly at first; and slanted sideways into her warmth, their safeness that was found in one another restored.
This laughter. This voice that reminded him of forlorn angels. Her very note, accent, timbre; that overcame him with a rush of strengthened conviction to live. For her. For himself. Though crushed under an invisible, giant weight; his senses crossed and twisted in every which way, his thoughts choking after one another; he fought to breathe. He fought against the stinging iciness of her fallen tears that dragged him forcefully back to life, he fought through the broken nose and hardened lungs; fought to let her trembling touches know that he would live. Tonight, tomorrow, years and decades after; he would live to protect her.
I can't. I can't move, Del, but they keep telling me to. My parents, they, thought I'd gone mad. Jill said I'd be a spinster. His mended face winced slightly. She would not see it in the dark, but that was okay. You are the flower that bloomed at the edge of the glade, even when no one else had the courage to.. How could I ever forget something so sublime? The weightlessness of his thoughts traversed through the cold atmosphere. Oh, Del, I've kept them all here, if you ever come back, not for anyone else. You know I don't want other girls to feel comfortable around here. I'd chase them out. His broken lip smiled, a fleeting and heart-rending smile.
It's all here, he would stand proudly by his desk, the Middlemist painting that we had bought in Chiswick, pointing to the bright of red amid the space of books and shelves, our photographs, he would nod excitedly, and his eyes would wonder if she still remembered them. And this book.. He would bring it gently down, as he had endlessly done each day, and turn to smile at her distant ghost. Will you stay? Or do you want to give up?
The painful glasses of words were still caught in his throat. I'm sorry, too, Del, for Skylar, for having pushed too hard. For everything that has happened, for this, too, but I'm not angry.. Anger is ignorance. I just want to know.. His mind shuffled through the years in-between her presence. What happened? He wanted her to stay, and not being able to speak tore his dignity harshly apart. Where did you go? So many questions. So many words unspoken. He would sober and heal himself up come morning, and he would patiently listen.
We'll do this carefully, don't worry, Del. I'll help, he thought. Just like the first time they had met.
If only it had been as tangible as non-verbal spells.
Far tunes of Christmas tidings were the screeching racket and fierce drums that interrupted his sleep.
With a sharp frown that aligned and realigned itself, his eyes fluttered open disdainfully at the interference; regretting his folly and his failure at decent public demeanor. The broken nose and swollen eyes, the fractured bones seemed to have been healed, but not the bloodied lip; and his blurred vision unveiled the familiar ceilings of his apartment. Reaching up to his forehead, he felt the soft fingers that he so used to clasp between his. She was still sleeping; the slight waves between her breaths rolling steadily, heaving and receding soundly, one after another.
In a moment of tenderness, Emil held them, and ever so gently, brought them to a longing kiss. He knew she ought to be angry; angry at his incomprehensible recklessness against life, angry at his foolish disposition towards those drinks, those 'pale, horrid, wailing phantoms of groundwater', and he did not know whether to begin with his apology or his gratitude.
"Forgive me. Tonight's all my fault. I've been so foolish to think I could somehow forget you." he whispered weakly in the silence, struggling to focus between the noises in his head that had suddenly fulminated to a fortissimo, "And you're all forgiven, Del. Stop wrecking that guilt against yourself." He shook his head apologetically. "You don't deserve that canard of a place, you lovely girl." His smile broke; a terrible ache welling up within as he recalled those times he had seen her bruised and smothered by her turbulent sights, her in a determined struggle to keep him away from the unfortunate happenings; when his gaze fell on the new bruises on her wrist, her hand, her shoulders.
"I'll do better," he choked, tracing the graceful lines on her face with his eyes, those slender curves that he could never forget; realizing how subtly they had iced, making her look even harsher than those wounds inside her. "I don't know how," he fought back the strong emotions, "I don't, honest to Pythia, but I'll try."
Tell me you would stay.
This vast blue sky of tears. I can't hold much longer. __ __
Receding from her and getting up, slowly; his head still hurting from the screaming pain, he checked his inventories and hobbled towards his coat, slumped sullenly over the chair while she had anxiously treated his injuries. Pulling his wand from its inner seams, Emil silently cast a series of healing spells on his broken lip and battered chest; scouring the dried blood away, though leaving a few scars that he was sure would leave in time. He turned back towards her, and saw how uncomfortable her posture must have felt like.
Holding his ragged breath steady, he limped towards his bedroom and pulled his cashmere sweater from his wardrobe; the sweater she used to wear so often it looked to Emil like a second skin. He cradled the soft fabric in his arms, stepping into the merriment of the Christmas carols and with what strength he could gather in his arms, shifted her gently on the couch. You used to love this. She stirred slowly, her translucent tresses flowing ever so carelessly on the softness of her cheek; lighting his face with a faint smile. With a quiet rush of his heartbeats, he weaved them back behind her ear; and it was unlike anything he had ever done before, for this was a reunion. A salvation from the bitter end.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and sat before her sheltered frame on the polished parquet; holding her hand as he healed those oddly familiar bruises on her, waiting for the deluge of yellow lances to slant through his full-length windows, waiting for the hot tisane to cool a little.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 16, 2014 0:33:31 GMT -5
"My feet chased the caving sun until the dawn of your return." @ara ----------------------------------------------------...golden and green of spring flowed through his senses in an excited sway, each turn of the Fortingall Yew leaf caught helplessly in the wind. An exhilarating rush of strength swept the air he breathed, as he gazed proudly at the two bright wisps of hair in his hand, as he looked thirty feet down towards the Arena... ...he twisted and swerved, eerily following the mad paso doble of his broom, leaving his four fingers the trembling threads keeping his two steps from oblivion... a white string came flitting down... heart swooped a transcendent nineteen meters. spinning head. fighting with wind.. mad swishes of stabbing branches.. a broom zoomed. a head hurled, out of the Arena... Oh, Del, this is trouble. Her sheltering touch woke him slowly; flooding his senses with the glorious warmth of the heaven, its brightness dancing spryly off her shoulders. He could search the whole wide world and find no place like this, no words to ever justify the beauty laid before his eyes; or perhaps his head that had faithfully begun its spinning routine betrayed his thoughts. His frown deepened. " Del.. Del, I'm—" His morning gruffness was removed by a defeated whisper, a weakened plea for her to stay and listen; yet instead her fingers slid through his and she stood up. In a frantic scramble, Emil rose, too, for a moment forgetting those fresh scars and wounds; the startled headache that sent him reeling and knuckling before the couch. Bloody wrecked body.Emil pinched his forehead furiously. He wanted to call her name, call after her a hundred times like he used to that night; but only a thin voice escaped his mouth. Must I watch her come back, only to see her leave again? Gracefully, she threaded across his living room into the kitchen, heading into the opposite direction from his front door. Then again, she did not need the door to leave, Emil realised, she could have left right after she touched his forehead, and he realised that she might not have been thinking straight either. His eyes watched her back as she stood and stayed in the kitchen; a curious expression etched on his face as a million reasons scattered his thoughts. Emil, you fool.He woke up on his desk one morning, that watch of his impressing its face upon his; the night before had been tolling past the verge of exhaustion. Del must have been, too. She had been with him through seven sleepless nights, Apparating and Disapparating across the continents as they went on representing Britain in the Annual Wizarding Conference. Even restorative potions cannot restore what those trips had robbed from them. Not quite the end yet, though, Emil still had to write his reports and give his accounts to the Minister, and so he dragged himself to his study and began writing...
"Emil! Emil! It's the Romanian conference! We're late, oh, Emil!" she shook him awake, her right hand still clutching onto her shoulder beneath his sweater.
"Del," he groaned. "It's been, it's been two days ago, dear." He squinted from the blinding lights, looking up at his fiancée.. She must think this was.. A brief smile lighted his countenance. Some things never change. And for a moment, it felt as if ten years had never slipped through his fingers. So he sat quietly on the hardwood flooring, unclasping and clasping his watch and waited for the spinning earth to stop; occasionally turning his head into the kitchen to see if she was still there; waited for her to come to. Show her those letters that I should have sent? No, that would hurt both of us even more. Ask her to delve into the mounts and crevices of my mind? I promised to be careful, only if she wants to. How bad will it get, though? .. He tried to think yet did not know where to begin; not to mention the fact that he had utterly disappointed everyone he knew yesterday; though deep down he had simply wanted her to stay. But for her to stay, I need to convince her. Honest to Pythia, I need to convince myself, too, that she would finally stay.. What was I thinking? If she would leave, on this very morning, would I be convinced to leave then, right away? Ten magnificent years of that opportunity opened wide at me, and now that the curtain had begun to draw in, would I want to stay here?Disappointed with himself, he morphed into his restored figure, sweeping the scars and seaming the scratches on his blue shirt.
He heard her footfalls approaching from the kitchen, still as gracefully as a doe would around her fawn, and followed her gaze as she sat on the floor across him. Taking the potion with his two hands, the two hands that he tried hard to stop from quivering, he sipped them and felt a tangible rush of calm overcome his senses. Strange how the silence grew louder instead, while their shadows lengthened on the chestnut floor; as the morning slowly grew older. A thousand rays of light stood between them, making them look like two odd twins about to play a magical game of some sort. Things would be much easier, then, but how will this end? He wanted to explain why he was in City of Justice yesterday, yet somehow it did not feel like the question they should be talking over. Because, Del, I've tried every which way, and perhaps that was the way I could have let you go? Perhaps that was why, all these years, you had kept all those drinks away from me? So that I can remember every trace you had left, even now? No, even while answering her question, he could not bring himself to say those hurtful words. He wanted to ask her how she had been; if she had been fine, if she had found what she had been looking for all these years, if she had really been scared of him, if she had fallen in love with another like him.. Too much, Emil.. Well, then, what should I ask! He riddled his mind with a riptide of holes, each new question being shot down by his fear of hurting her even more; his faculty of speech rendered into nothingness. That was when he saw it. His ring. His eyes, like the faithful ring between her slender fingers, suspended themselves in a moment of disbelief. My ring? Why is my ring still there? He thought she had tossed the ring, their promise, away into the bottom of the briny deep, or that she had sold it away, or anything other than having worn it close to her heart. Is it mine? It couldn't be, could it, if she had met someone so like me, someone with that same horrible taste?
Emil had first regretted it one moment too late; when he held her fingers and slid the white gold gently in, when he looked up and realised how its simplicity had paled in comparison to the brightness of her smile, to the winter crown of her hair.
Afterwards, he had foolishly asked if she wanted to change them, only to get her angry rambles in return. The only thing he could smile proudly at was its inscription, "The beautiful keeper of my promises; through vales and mounts; a day and for ever." Broken from his dazed thoughts, he took the leather-bound book and swung into another banner of disbelief as he stared at the title. The Odyssey. Have I ever told her before? Emil was fairly certain he had not, although his current predicament and the overwhelming currents of emotions could have tricked his senses. He blinked and blinked again. The Odyssey of Homer stared back at him through equally large typefaces. Oh, Del.."Thank you," he whispered, his fingers silently framing the book.
He stifled a smile through the pain of his unspoken words. " I would never marry a wife who would let her man sleep on another woman's lap through a night. I would never marry another," he gazed at her, "Haven't you seen our home, Del? It's all you, all of our stories kept in this home, waiting for you to come back." The heart of the matter is the matter of the heart.With a gentle tap of his wand, his watch unclasped and unraveled itself from his wrist, revealing the paleness of the skin hidden so quietly beneath the harshed years; floating dreamily between their space until it rested a few breaths away from her lap. Turning its face down towards the floor, the tender inscription spoke softly back at her, and he wondered if she still recognise them. After a long moment, he let the watch fall on her gentle hands, watching painfully as it coiled and shrank itself into his ring. " I could not see it without thinking of you," he spoke softly, shaking his head, looking down at the empty vial of potion. " One night, I looked for you so hard, Del, around the places and countries we went to, I was so tired of searching that I wanted to give up. Did you know I looked for you? I didn't know if I should have, I didn't know if I should keep looking, I didn't know anything," he caught his breath deeply before continuing. " What I want to say," he said, biting his lip, " what I want to say, is that I cannot forget you, no matter how many shouts parched my throat, no matter how many letters I wrote, even when the seasons had come and gone, I'm still here." He almost forgot to breathe. " I'm still here, Del, sleeping on the same bed you slept on, writing those clueless letters at the same desk I used to hear your laughter from, sitting on the same couch where I used to hold you close, feeding the little puppy that's now grown into a strong mutt, doing the things I used to do with you. All those little things.. I must have gone mad, Del," he chuckled helplessly before looking up again, his eyes two wells of unbroken tears. " Are you afraid of me? Do you think I'm mad, too, Del?" " My strength, my light, they went cold. I have had no reason to be fine," answered Emil softly, oblivious to any hint of professional intention in her question; as he held her hazy grey gaze, once sharp as gunmetal; his own steely blue reflected an ocean of sadness, waves of unfulfilled longing rushing past. So please, Del, come back.He tried, but he could not manage more than a few gruff groans, and he had wanted to ask her to stay. Unable to raise his voice louder than it was, he motioned for her to come closer. Taking the cold cup of tisane from the coffee table, he lighted his wand and heated the tea; stretching his better arm and waited for her to take the cup.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 18, 2014 4:25:50 GMT -5
"My capricious angel of dawn, fallen under the weight of a trillion teardrops." @ara ----------------------------------------------------A lingering scent of herbal infusion, and the fleeting remnants of the flagrant night, chased the air between them; ever so enigmatic and bittersweet.In the sum of his days, memories were built upon another; practically paved on the shelves of his gallant mind. Emotions, especially anger, he carefully arranged away from his fortress of knowledge. Like a mahogany seed by the edge of the woods, resilience was wired deeply into his core; as the years had taught him how little is needed to thrive when failure is never an option.Yet nothing in his life had prepared him for this gracious tempest, hurrying reckless gusts that stormed so intense within the atria of his mind; it shattered his defenses down.As if time, in spite of all its cruelness, had gifted him with another chance; this time, he caught her. His wand fell forlornly on the hardwood; his only thought to hold her closer than his very breaths.With each turn of fists that helplessly hammered against his mended chest, still he ached and winced; yet it was not them who rent his heart to its seams. It was every tear that she did not manage to fight back, every word that she let out of its confines; it was them who knocked him two steps back from the sanctuary of his memories. For a long moment, he could not speak as her presence roamed through the crevasses of his being; searching for a complete explanation beneath the inaudible languages of his heart.He fluttered his eyelids closed, letting her tender touches frame his face; tracing every line and corner of its side. I have promised to protect and stay with you through everything, Del, it was with an affection so sacred that I have sealed it, do you remember? How am I to live, knowing I have failed this one vow, knowing you tread the world out there, hiding from whatever demented fears and nightmares I have failed to drive away? How am I to thrive, while my thoughts remain sundered by the delirium of this darkness?____ I love you, do you hear me, Del?____ I love you even when I do not know why, though your very presence has left its hollow ghosts in your stead, I loved you, Del, and it pains me how weightless these words seem to whimper with repetition. If your desire is not to be found, to lose your precious self from my searching eyes and my longing heart, what tragic symmetry has brought us here again? If I scream for the thousandth time, if I cry for the thousandth night, if I beg for the thousandth year; and you'll be here.. If I have to go through ten more beatings for you to see me, I know I would, even when I do not know of any logical stance.. I'm sorry. I know I should not run towards death, Del, but look where it had brought me .. Us .. There is no place I would rather be at this moment.____That night, his senses had failed him, and what remained of sensibility had lost its purposes. In his own unrestrained, inadequate and fragile ways; he searched for a release.. And fell. He kept falling so freely, with seemingly no other truth to grasp onto. A strangely beautiful tune haunted him as he entered oblivion; yet another soul, equally wounded, was there to break his fall. Broken and scarred she is, still; still she bravely fought to love and to belong. This is my chosen ground. ____Sheltering her slenderness from the invisible shadows, Emil held her against his beating heart; letting her hear those familiar sprightly beats, a part of him that still yearned to fight and mend this brokenness. Breathing in her scent, his own sentiments galloped into the sleepless ocean of longing; it was strange how afraid he was of losing her, even when she was already shackling herself in his warmth. He looked up towards the early sun; fighting his own flood back as he held her tighter, drowning in his inability to ease her pain; his right arm arched lovingly across her shoulders ..
At wit's end, he watched painfully as her words; like a flowing river which imploded with currents of sorrow; painted her questions, veiled questions that both knew would finally lead them towards the truth. You silly girl. He could hear his pained chuckle in his mind. Smiling back at her, his own fleeting attempt at assurance; he cradled her cheek in his hand, wiping away those dreadful, relentless tears with his thumb. How many times do I have to tell you you're beautiful? Even when you're wrecking guilt against your soul like this ..
This exquisite crown of yours, it blurred the contours of my reality, just like this, catching light and losing dark. Nothing can hide that light which shines from within. His hand hidden beneath her hair, he leaned in and kissed the softness of her forehead. Your bruises are the autumnal patches that I have woven carefully into these fabrics of my life, each perfect explosion of colors inspired by you. If this throat could sing without hexing your ears, I would sing to you every nightfall, every daybreak, Del, hearing your precious laughter in return. Each waterfall glistened in the sun, palpably and substantially; unceasing as if she had kept them closed for far too long. How long have you been strong under that sweet disguise? ____He looked at her earnestly, letting the unbearable lightness of her soul steal his quiet breaths away; before whispering carefully in her ear, "My dreams, they were what I wanted. Though I am happy, your absence breathed it away at once. You, Del, you, who lingered like the refreshing scent of pines through spring reveries," A drop of pearl fell through her hair. "You, who stayed like the undeniable frost of winter stills," he fought back from choking on his words. He was oblivious to the way the wind had suddenly rushed stronger, oblivious to the way the spilled tea gathered its outlines back into the cup. "You are what I need, Del. And it was such a torment, not knowing whether to wait or to forget .." Wherever I went, they would ask if I had thinned. How will I know? He took a deep breath, hearing his own foolish words spoken back through the winter air. "The only truth I held on to was the moment that you would come back, and somehow, through every morning, that brought me here. It frustrates me, too, how simple things were, and how complicated we made them out to be. It frustrates me, too," he tousled his deep brown hair with a free hand. "How stubborn this heart is. You're right, Del, it's obstinacy running on the verge of madness, it's a dangerous thing, being in love. I traced your steps, going backwards, but I could find no inevitable explanation laying beneath your leave."
The familiar face was looking fixed at him, coming in full contrast with the stupid grin still etched on his face; evident disbelief unsuccessfully stifled beneath the piercing stares of his company.
"Emil," his younger brother began to speak, revealing what his parents had been too timid to admit. "Have you thought this through? What they believed, she could very well kill you, what with all those calamities you have gravitated towards since you two started .."
Biting his lower lip, his arm slung carelessly over the couch; Emil waited a thoughtful instant before answering, the ever-widening grin not at all fading. "All vagarious propensities aside, I have, Amos, and 'yes' is her answer." His blue eyes continued to shine with blissful brilliance. "You should be merry, young man, that your stone of a brother is not going to live the rest of his life alone."
"Solitude breeds a man his disunity from reciprocity. I intend to honor your decisions, Emil, and I look forward to see you both," Amos finally smiled, raising his glass of wine in conclusion.
Nothing heals without bleeding. These tears leak from our very own bloodlines. "I am still that simpleton you knew," he smiled as his hand closed around hers, feeling her fingers fill the spaces between his. "That silly boy who still wears his watches on the inside." He closed his eyes and brought her hand to a loving kiss; out of longing, out of his unmasked emotions. "That idiot who have never understood why people, for the sake of themselves, build houses so extravagantly splendid when out there, houses so decrepit and infirm of support exist, when a more spacious house often strip its people of the intimacy that brings them together in a little house." His hand trailed the familiar curves down her shoulder. "And I know you would wonder why bad things happen around you, Del, with Skylar.." A wince followed his words, his gaze falling upon the great land of immeasurable regrets. "But they happen everywhere. I'll make my faults right. And these are not your faults, I promise.. You, with a heart full of noble intentions. I'm sorry," he faltered, his own guilt roaring furiously after him. "I lost my senses yesterday, and my intentions were far from good. I'm sorry, Del, for making you worry," he smiled apologetically before carrying on, "and I will never drink again.""I want you to stay because," Emil cleared his throat that had begun to dry and confessed to her, his hazy gaze searching hers for a hint of cognizance, "because I need you, Del. And because I am a coward, who cannot bring himself to crawl into another's embrace while waiting for yours to come and stay." Their warmth suffused in one another's; though the jealous winter air was still breathing thinly between what little was left of their spaces. It had been a long time since he had been this close to a woman, and here he was, moulding his figure to the woman of his dreams. Sinking his hand beneath her hair, he reached out to the soft skin behind her ears; and he kissed her with all the simple passions he had kept encased in his heart for ten long years. His hand that held hers, held her tighter with the strength and decisiveness of a man who wanted to protect her with his life. Damn it, Emil, you promised her to be careful ..
Oh, Del.At long last, he pulled away gently; eyes on fire, still catching his breaths; letting his arm fall by her side. Putting on a calm façade to hide his jangling nerves, he asked, gazing at her lovely eyes; his own glistening like those of a little lost boy looking for his lost pup."Will you slide my ring back where it belongs?" He laid out his right hand in offering for hers, once again waiting nervously for her answer. His heart was beating right out of his chest, his empty gut clenching itself in slow turns. "Will you let me make things right, Del?"
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Post by Deleted on Aug 23, 2014 0:16:11 GMT -5
"These little tides of happiness." @ara ----------------------------------------------------"You don't know what you're doing!" he shouted across the wooden barrenness, one hand clasped tightly around his coffee mug. He slammed the cup down on his table, its seething liquid splashed and scalded his skin; and stepped closer towards the girl standing by the door. This was what frustrated him. Her willfulness against his.
"You only know to take what you want, is that it?" He raised his eyebrows at her, a frown marring his countenance; scratching the back of his head in annoyance, eyes squinting with incredulity as he met hers once more.
Each word was bursting acid, pounding angry fists on cold metal. Her eyes searched for his – for something – for understanding, perhaps – yet at the moment he simply cast her off as defiant as ever.
Not speaking. Great.
Rain was trampling relentlessly against his windows; the grey skies feigning interests at their predicament.
After an eternal silence, a stark sentence drifted sharply in-between his angered thoughts; which frustrated him all the more; his anger precipitated, confounding themselves into chaos.
"I'm moving into your apartment and you can't do anything about it."
"Why? Because you say so? Do you understand what would happen if words get out? Do you see the reporter down the block? Things they would write .. Do you even think about what she could do to me? To my reputation?" He pointed a finger at his own chest, still holding her gaze steady. "To yours? Does any of this mean anything to you?"
He never apologized afterwards, nor had he asked for her reasons; and he regretted himself for a decade long.
She must think I don't love her enough, she must think I'm a selfish, ignorant prude. She must think that.. "You cold?" He gathered his sweater tighter around her, his hands finding their way behind her back once again.
"I'm sorry I tried to push you away, Del," said Emil, his tone a presage of their reunification and reconciliation. He took The Odyssey in his hands once more, his eyes sinking into the familiar ocean of warmth.
Looking up to find her gaze, he carried on, "Well, person of mine, I want you to stay. Here." Reveling in the little blush forming up her cheeks; he cradled her face once more, wiping the remaining tears gently away, soothing her confused thoughts; his own momentarily tucked away beneath this vulnerable moment.
A soft, familiar bark came from upstairs.
He looked up towards the stairs, thinking if he should leave this a moment too soon. You must be starved, bud.. But she's back, Xo, have you heard her? Can you see her soft footsteps across the broadloom, where you played together? Can you hear her scent treading across this lost space, the only place you know so well?"Tell me, Del.. It's all forgiven, dear, I just want to know.. What happened and what brought you here the first time.." It was so unlike you, so what happened? I'm sorry I never gave my time to listen. "What made you left.." Was it entirely me? "What brought you back.." Me again..? "All that I've missed.. I'll be careful to listen."
Like the soft evening snow on the windowsills, she waited patiently for him to appear out of the Ministry building; standing by those gigantic doors, she rubbed winter's breaths away from her trembling hands.
Their first day at the Ministry.
He had wanted to make the most out of his first duties, though he was a simple keeper then – lifting and randomly sorting new orbs of prophecies onto their respective shelves, roaming through the endless aisle of blackened deep, squinting to read the written initials of those Seers and Seeresses, memorizing each placed orb without fail, enchanting new rows of orbs to protect them from prowling attempts .. ___ ___
A .. Z.
H.K.A. to E.A.Z. Emil Zephyrinus
Calmly, he turned the gleaming blue orb by a pivot, peering into the translucent wisps within, not unlike the scales of swimming fish under the quiet moonbeams; when his gaze suddenly found the face of his watch – its dials pointing guiltily past the number six.
With a rush of urgency, he returned the prophecy back to its rightful place; grabbed his coat, entered the last logs of the day and took his leave immediately; once again looking back at the darkness swallowing, like a star that shone no more, and making sure that the prophecies were safe.
When he greeted the sinking daylight; he was greeted with her angry inquisitions as well, and he returned them with his profuse statements of apology. Why did he always mess things up? Wasn't he supposed to be an expert at all things? Still, he marveled at her; briefly wondering how she could still find it in her to stay with him.
"Say, Del, would you say yes to a stroll before heading home?" He looked at her; letting her arms slip through his, though her lips were still pressed together in boldness. Without his conscious volition, his right hand reached up to his chest, feeling the little box bursting with its own eagerness against his touch.
Oh, not today ..
Maybe that day will come, when you finally do things right. "I know," he smiled back. "I know I'm crazy the moment I brought those roses before your hands .." He let out a small laugh, the smell of reminiscence thickening in his senses.
"Roses? What was I thinking, Del?" The sounds of his laughter were coming back to him; the rare tides of happiness that drifted with her presence returning to their shores. He did not need to read her mind to know what was in her mind; he simply knew her. What a strange thing, love is. What did she hear? Not that, oh, Emil..
"Oh," he chuckled pleasantly, "I don't think I can hear myself sing, Del. It's not my angelic voice, it's my vocal cords.. I, uh, I think I got it injured," he touched his throat, anxiously examining the sharpness against his skin. "Might need you on that," he winked down at her."I love you, too," he replied, trailing down her hair playfully with his fingers; his nose sinking beneath her hair."Mine are nothing but borrowed words, Del," he whispered back into her ear, his hands pressed against the slenderness of her waist. "Stop with the disappearing. I need you, and if there is anything I am fighting for, it is you, Del. Stop with the nightmares. If only for a moment, see how graceful you are beneath this glorious morning light," he breathed, inhaling sharply at the long-lost scent where his peace was found. My heartbreaks. My strength. My light. "Stop with the crying .. It rends my heart." He pulled her even closer, sliding his hands along her arms to warm her.
"Then the eye of the hurricane is where I find my blessings. As long as you're mine, I like to live my life dangerously." He grinned at the old revelation that had arrived upon her arrival.
Focusing intently on the bright-feathered budgerigar, her eyes an ever-widening brilliance of grey; she shifts her attention from the bird and the exquisite chalice standing beside it. Sitting by her left side, he inhaled a deep breath before watching the chalice transfigured itself, scrambling and weltering above the creature; essentially capturing it within bars.
Even then, he might have already loved her.
With a playful smile and a tap of his wand, the ornate cage gathered itself back into the cup, and Emil, motioning to Grimp, said, "He knows you're one of his best students, I can see it. Now, got the hang of it, haven't you, Del? Must be easier now, and you can do it quickly."
He looked at her, anxious that he had spoken a little too much; his smile fading. "Though we'll do it carefully." He let his gaze land on the goblet.
From his peripherals, he could see Jill smirking across the classroom, smiling so smugly he thought she was going to pull another prank on him.
Danger. Things that woman know, he sighed. "It's alright." He pulled away slowly, smiling wistfully.
"We make a strange pair, don't we? But even some vipers can be exceptionally faithful.." Leaning his face into her hand, relishing this tender moment they have created for one another, he carried on, "And even some eagles can be surprisingly affectionate." He smiled one of his rare, shy, boyish smile; half-wishing he could have said all these words to her a lifetime ago.
"Is that all, why you left, Del? Because you did it for me.. You wanted to let someone paint my tomorrows? Or did you see something?" He asked her honestly, unable to contain his curiosity any longer. "But you know I can't let that happen again, right?"The morning sun burnt brighter, traversing through their memories; hidden beneath the thickness of dust. Each portrait was returning to life, each frame becoming one with the reignited colors.I will never make it out of this alive, alone. Let our world be a battleground for good and evil, light and dark; but I don't know what I'm fighting for if you're not by my side. He pulled an intricate little box from his desk drawer, silk ribbon fluttering across the room with a flick of his wand. Undoing its knots, he opened the case and handled it to her.He knew what was inside, the Christmas gift that he had not a chance to give her ten years ago. A stellar crystal.
"You always loved watching the snowflakes fall through the sky, and you always detested how they melt, soon as they meet your touch. Just like you loved when the Middlemist bloomed, and detested when it faded." He touched the back of his neck, unsure if she would like it. "I haven't forgotten those, either."
Spending his days examining how different snowflakes looked like with a magnifying spell he recently invented; days turned to weeks and weeks to months.
Each fragile snowflake he inserted into the crystal was each promise he would keep for her; pure as the driven snow. For three months, he slipped away from her sleeping figure and stayed up each night, hugging half-remembered dreams of the night; studying each ridge, each indent, each crevice, each plane, each dendrite, each curve; committing them into the crystal's memory along with his words.
"For her, whose voice dreams of forlorn angels .."
"Someday, we'll build a home together .."
"I love you, a day and forever .."
When he completed a hundred prisms; the transparent, palm-sized crystal turned a full circle in his palm; disorientating and orientating itself; and he wondered if she should like something so fragile, so harmless, something so essentially foreign to her. Emil, you crazy, lovesick fool, three months for something you're not even sure she would take a second glance at.
But she might.
And it might have meant everything to him. Getting up slowly, easing his right leg; he turned towards the kitchen, wanting to prepare a decent breakfast for the three of them. He was famished, his gut having left empty from the egregious night before. She must be, too, he thought, she was with me the entire night. I must have stolen her sleep, her strength ..
Quietly, he smiled to himself.
And I still remember your favorite breakfast.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 5, 2014 10:56:39 GMT -5
"When two hearts come; words deserve air, and a poignant clarity." @ara ----------------------------------------------------"Your affections are out of habits, out of these duties you lack the courage to end," said her; the voice that was her becoming sharper than the icy chandelier swaying above his head, threatening to fall with her leave. No, Del, I'm not a coward. I've looked at myself in the mirror, and I see a fallen man. Not a coward. Nothing but a self-important, appalling figure of my own rendering that I cannot recognise. Even a fat-headed coward would have recognised himself.
He chuckled derisively at his thoughts. I used to see the reflection speaking about the best of me; forgetting those shadows I have so easily shackled by their arms and legs. They could have showed the worst of me, and so I refused to listen. It is true, Del, that one moment of patience in a moment of anger.. saves a thousand moments of regret.
Suppose I was never one to stop for doubting myself. Suppose I was always too sanctimonious to know that I could have treated you bet—
Del..? Are you leaving? Why are you leaving? His mouth cracked to speak. Why threaten the existence of that which already does not exist? The bruises that made her shoulders began to turn; her contours blending one with the darkness impending. No! Words hurled themselves at him, hurled at her; yet his feet were firmly fixated upon the ground. The wind that rustled the curtains began to render the room spinning. He could not feel his feet. Living without you fills me with regrets, after everything.. Her shadows hid. Please, please, just once, show me I've been wrong, I'm tired of taking both sides of the conversation. I'm tired of going through my mistakes. I'm tired of fighting with your ghosts through the seconds. Further, ever ever further. I'm tired of losing my mind and rewinding it numb, unrepaired.
In the beginning, it was easy to fake it. Show them that your absence meant nothing to me; shove their worries into hiding places, beneath old dust. The truth, however, is that it takes a long time to get to knowing; that beneath a dashing figure sleeps another façade. Other well-crafted pretenses woven beneath my imaginations. No one saw through them, not even those I cared dearly for. Or perhaps, I simply drowned myself in excusatory preoccupations, feigning ignorance at their questioning glances.
The shadows have returned to me ever since.
Nothing but the dark.
I know I'm a coward.
Silently, the chandelier ripped itself apart; a thousand stellar crystals shattered by the frost, each a heart-rending explosion of driven snow; each looking at his crouched frame, adrift in mid-air.
He awoke in trembles.
The window was flung open as a nightbook; quivering splashes of wintry shower flooding his sheets in tiny arrows, slanted lines. "You could have left for a day," he sighed, his tone fraught with strangeness and despair. "Or a week. You could have let time triumph over loneliness."
"I know everything I have is all I need, but I know the heavens could be cruel with their delayed endowments. I began to love snow rains because somehow, they remind me of your presence." Without consciousness, his fingers brushed and circled the cold metal of his watch. Silence, the sweet twin of speech; refused to let peace triumph over his sorrows. Like a boy who lost his voice, a ship out of its safe harbor; his wonder was lost in tears. "We shared our stories together here," he spoke through choked breaths, fingers trusting the wetness of the fabric. "Tales that only we will know. Our dreams."
The puppy was whimpering beside him; its body where another used to be.
"I guess I can't forget them."
"I can't sleep tonight again, Del. I think I missed you, can you hear me? Some nights, I awoke in endless pain. But it didn't matter now, did it? This emptiness eating at me. I.. I think I shed more tears tonight, each drop riving a part of me," he whispered to the empty shadows; careless to wipe the stream of tears from his cheekbones, careless to the fact that a fever was getting to him.
"I wish there was some escape plans, some termination letters, some light at the end of the tunnel, as they say. I can almost paint my thoughts now, draw you out line after line, curve after curve. Each coming night, they circumnavigate each other pointlessly, when all I really wanted to say.. was that I miss you."
If your eyes a gracious sea of calm, there I wandered, and lost and part, with careless sprint from silver stars of old as red leaves fluttering, falling for your heart.
A garden of words he could have tended for her. Yet every time he tried to frame his thoughts with language, nerves failed him. He, the boy who had always considered particular things in the world with great care; laughed softly at his own foolishness. Most girls would love roses, not poems, Emil. What are you, the incarnation of an antiquated poet? Imagine the horror when she snickers at you and your love poems.
Then again, she is not most girls .. and what is life if you can do everything, all, just right? Have to traverse through all the bumps too, don't we?
Sitting by the picture window, his curious gaze landed beneath the evening sun; falling on the Quidditch pitch where she was training effortlessly.
What would you smile at? His blue eyes followed the Fifth Year's flight; trailing each perfect spin, each timely dodge, each unforeseen direction. How do you manage to make everything seem so easy?
Ruffling his hair boyishly, he stood up and shoved the letter into his desk drawer; as far as he could, along with a dozen or so more. I have never been good at these things. Must be one of Jilly's hexes to flock those wide-eyed girls to come streaming in. Makes me feel like living in a fishbowl. Oh, the joy she would relish in my suffocation.
Never show it, Emil.
Throwing his head back, folding his arms to brace the nape of his neck; he breathed in deeply, wondering if the girl ever liked roses.
You came to me with the wind, like a flower catching the evening breeze. Perhaps you would care for roses?
A letter never sent, pulled from the drawers of his memories Do you remember when I lost sight of colors after that incident at the Tournament? Red, blue, green, yellow. They were gone, faded, washed-out. All I saw was black, grey, silver, white. I never told anyone, Del, but my nerves were bleeding internally, literally; right when I woke up and opened my eyes. Do you know how scary and sorrowful the world looked then? I never realised how much meaning all those colours had around us.
But.. you looked the same to me. You would never believe me when I said how beautiful your grey eyes were, how flawless your skin was, or how attractive your silver hair was. I wish.. I wish I could have told you how thankful I was. You were my only constant, even in this suffering.. You were my lifeline.
You always said that there is no pride in being seemingly monochromatic all the time. I almost ran out of answers then, did you know that?
Yet the universe always have something unexpectedly sweet laid in store for you, little girl.
Every day, I tried to remember to act normal, to feign awareness instead of showing that blessed blindness. I began observing the outlines of objects, their harsh edges and truthful curves to help me recognise them. I tried remembering what colour each object belonged to, and tried hard to bring it back. As if staring at them for long, or talking to myself, or tricking my memories; as if any of these could bring the colours back.
Long after, when your best friend put that red thread around our ring fingers, I couldn't see it well, you see, it looked plainly as a needle among needles.
I could have broken the spell in a wink.
Risking your wrath, I didn't. I simply spent my moments looking at your confused countenance and frayed hair; teasing you endlessly.
That red thread.. I tried so hard to remember that it was there. But something broke my attention. Something always does. When I accidentally, suddenly, moved my hands to reach for that furthest vial in Potions; afterwards, I scolded myself repeatedly for being such a reckless fool. I didn't wish to make you worry, and now I risk being a dishonest fool, too.
That night, I asked to meet you in a corner, somewhere quiet in the dungeon; and confessed my condition. I apologised for everything. For the reckless accident, for the delayed conversation, for the littlest things that triggered your suspicion. That the nineteen-feet fall hit a nerve, they finally said, and that healing by magic was not advisable.
You could have been angry.
You could have been disappointed.
But no, you simply held on.
Each coming day, you patiently drew out different colours from the tip of your wand, spending hour after hour showing me different things. A red flower, you would say. A blue button. A green blade of grass. A yellow feather. It made me feel like a little child, all over again; though it was entirely strange and uneasy. But it made me feel safe beside you.
I could swear I almost felt ecstatic when a shade of yellow, from the brightness of the book you were clutching; touched my vision once more.
After a long time, it felt as if the other colours were not coming back. I started wearing yellow because that was the only truth I could grasp onto.
Still, you held on.
Each sunset and each sunrise sent a deluge of hopefulness to my heart. Until red, blue, green, and every other colour; faithfully returned to its rightful seer. I could never have done it without you.
The perseverance of streaming seasons, too harsh for bloodlines rendered ageless on the yew by a tenebrific river – veins throbbing an étude of hearts.
Each letter he inked and never did send. Each poem he wrote once, read once; abandoned afterwards. It was too painful to imagine her reading them and lighting them on fire, swallowing them into dust; but he needed a release. After ten summers, the stack of letters grew thicker and taller; waiting innocently in his desk drawer.
This is a waste of time, Em. He could hear her reprimanding. Why hold onto something that hurts you so, someone who broke you so? Foolishness could not have found a better company. Have not the white winters harshened your affections for me? I am that white winter gale. Why keep on wanting a broken heart? Why assume that the shadows were the ones looking for me?
Then stop hurting me so much, then stop breaking me so much, then come back. Winter after winters, I was certain you would finally come back. Is it all a game, Del? Is it a final hide-and-seek?
Mine is a broken heart, too.
But it knew the difference between you and the world.
Your familiarity; so irrevocable, so sprightly, so unbending and unmasked. This is my home, this is my chosen ground. It mattered not that you were the girl who stuck with nobody other than your best friend. It mattered not that you are the girl who left me years ago.
It was the familiarity. One that I found when you stood by the inchoate light; lips barely touching the amaranth petals as you bent down to greet them. Do you know how beautiful you are? I could have said it nine times out of ten, only to find your witty comeback teasing me back.
It was the red thread.
All along it was there.
He probably knew that fatal flaw of hers; from the moment she never thanked him for the roses or the chocolates, for the letters and the school dances. He probably knew it from the moment a blush painted her cheeks red, instead.
From the moment she smiled at him.
Which was why he brought her Middlemist Reds and made her breakfast, wrote her poems and took her to ballroom dances.
Smiling in wishfulness, thinking she'd someday, sooner or later; realise that he's known her all along. Playing with your fingers. Seeing her nervousness, he waited patiently as she gathered her uncertain thoughts; saying nothing meanwhile, his steady hands still resting on her arms. His gaze fell slightly, remembering the years that slipped elusively past their embrace. Many things must have happened in between, both pleasant and unpleasant.. You, the one who never forgets. Even if your thoughts could forget, your heart never could.. What reasons could possibly lay beneath this hesitation of yours? He knew that she was not one to frequently hesitate; that each step was bound to be ambitious and purposeful. That she must have thought of an explanation before once again entering his life. You know I cannot let you go this time. No matter what cruel visions dismembered your thoughts, I will always be here for you. You know that, don't you, Del?
Why are you protecting me, Del?
What afflictions found your journey?
Even if you manage to walk away this time.. I would not hesitate to chase after you. What hurts prowl among your remembrances, I would heal each wound that you have left untreated. The danger that hides itself underneath your path, it may threaten to explode; but I will be there to stop harm from happening.
When she leaned into him, it was all it took to bring the sweetness of her memories back. Each thin hairline. Each perfect sound. Each defiant freckle. Each pleasant smell, each tinge that spoke of the freshness of earth after rainfall. " I vow not to die before I can make an eternity of happiness for you," he promised, smiling at her playing at his collar. Looking slightly sideways, he continued, ".. and your giggles healed all my injuries." He groaned, laughing softly afterwards. " Oh, Del, I missed you so much." " Hey," he spoke, meeting her gaze fully. " I can wait, alright? Whatever these things are.. I promise you to do it together. I.. I'm guessing in the dark at the moment, as you know, but once your explanation arrives, I'll do everything in my ability to keep you safe. It's alright."
As he stood up and looked back at her; both of them admiring the way the lights fell and gathered itself, dancing off the crystal; his steely blue eyes focused on her instead, at her delight upon setting eyes on something so beautiful. You have the loveliest of smiles when you see something you love.
It did mean everything to me.
Why doubt something so beautiful? Foolish, Emil. You could have spent everyday drowning in doubt that way.
From where he sat, stroking Xo's head dearly; he could see her busying herself from one credenza to another, each movement returned to her purposeful approaches; deft and quick. I missed this, too." Oh," he said with a frown. " Ran out of groceries again, are we? Don't worry," he chuckled gleefully, unable to contain his happiness this moment. A moment that should be so ordinary for couples, but one that he had grown to cherish more and more by the second. " I kept myself fed too. You simply caught me at an unfortunate break.. Would you like to have breakfast outside, then? I can pick some groceries up later. Perhaps we could.. stop by that tea shop you loved. I might have run out on that, as well." Each occasional laughter was becoming more frequent, each glimmer of happiness glowing more spirited and brighter. Each passing second was indeed touched with bliss; each hollowed memories in his mind refilling itself into moments of affection. Del.. Don't ever change.
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