Scarlet
Scarlet; a deep color of passion and elegance. Usually inviting and tempting. A color that may express warmth and dominance at the same time. Pleasure and lust skillfully crafted together. A poised woman so lovely yet fiercely powerful. Carefully sculpted into perfection; made to seduce any man she chose to set her eyes on. Irresistible; a woman who can make any man want her with just a look in the eye.
The maiden looked over the busy streets of Midgar; a cigarette carelessly hanging on her long and delicate fingers. She always loved staying on the balcony of her polished condominium every night after work. It somehow calmed her down despite the hectic nature of her job.
She tucked her stray, blond hair behind her ear as the wind caressed her gently; her deep red dress hugged her voluptuous body in an appropriate manner. She sighed heavily and cleared her throat as she coldly looked down the people walking on the streets. Her full, red lips came to a disgusted frown. For behind her cold blue eyes she saw these people as pests. She believed that they contribute to the imperfection of the once perfect world. A majority of the people feared her greatly. She was one of the reasons behind the tragic death of so many people; the dreams planned for so long yet destroyed in a snap of a finger. She is cold and ruthless, and no life of a worthless human was spared when she set her eyes on it.
And yet every night she would let down the walls she had put up around her so well. Her vulnerability exposed to the still of the night as she cried ever so softly. So softly for she was afraid that anyone would hear. For she was a human after all; alive and real. And she always knew that somehow as a human she still had feelings kept in her heart.
What was it that every woman had that she didn't? She kept asking herself. For no matter how many men she had owned and easily seduced, she was never loved truthfully. It simply hurt her. The loneliness locked in her heart for so long. She knew that she never meant anything to anyone; that she was just another beautiful ornament that shortly came into their lives and simply walked away, never to be remembered again. The desire to be loved, never even granted. The desire to be held so lovingly during the cold winters she usually withstand alone, never happened. When will she ever feel loved and appreciated? That she wasn't just 'some woman' who gave a man a good night's sleep?
Irony had spoken its wisest words. No one knew that a woman of fierce power and timeless beauty would cry in a lonesome state when no witness is present. And at the break of dawn she found it hard to look into the mirror. The last drop of her tears slowly escaped from her tired eyes.
Scarlet. A deep color of passion and elegance. A poised woman so lovely yet so fiercely powerful. A tragic and silent tale of the beautiful and secretly unloved.
A/N: Yes, I know a lot of people see Scarlet as a biatch. However, I dare to somewhat change that assumption (or fact) for a while. Most of the biatches in the world are actually just troubled women seeking for approval.
Well anyway, RnR is appreciated. Please tell me how it's been.