.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
04-13-2013, 02:56 AM
There is a certain loneliness that rests within your core. Something you cannot name, though it is nearly tangible all the same; by allowing yourself to feel you had unlocked previously unknown chambers to your wanton heart, opened the floodgates of everything you had always fought to hold back, everything you had always suppressed. You move as a ghost, the sea of emotions squirming through you not your own, foreign as they are. You wander, your heart a ball and chain tied solely to you, preventing you from running as you would have before, faces and names that would have meant nothing to the you that has always been, fading, etched within the metal. Sinding, ( and he has always been there, if you had to be honest, always ) Thor, ( the mere mention of the name causes something hot to shoot through your veins, subsiding just as quickly ) Xanthos. They have changed you, as much as you have not changed them. You ponder briefly if they hold you close as you hold them in the shadow of your quickly-melting ice-queen heart. What does it matter, anyway? You shudder lightly at the thought of their rejection, the chill it brings ringing through to your very marrow. What does it matter? Lily-white satin prickles, rising and falling evenly as you breath, try to calm the quelling something churning inside of you. You had strayed from your home, followed by an ominous feeling from the moment you stepped away. You, as with many things, cannot place it, but it is a presence looming behind your every step, breathing down your neck nonetheless. The trees seem to hold the same empty threats as you pass them by, stained-glass eyes barely moving as the mass of their trunks slide past inches from you, steps calm and collected as always, graceful, despite every muscle in your lithe body telling you to run, turn back, forget about anything that you had hoped to find. They are instead focused on a sliver of light within the dismal forest, the same color of satin in which you had been crafted, marred with blues, looking just as out of place as you feel. 'You look lost.' Blunt, you slow to a stop at the water's edge, flame-filled eyes glancing him over before again resting on his new face. |
omg, i am so sorry about the wait for this.
-hands cookies made especially with love- forgive me? C:
