Whoo! The first of its kind…on here anyway : D Well this short story might come off as a little confusing to some of you.. But all will be clarified…Many metaphors on the way. This may be an usual pairing, but I love it anywayXD Enjoy
Disclaimer: every time I send my metaphorical request to Santa, he sends it back.
It's So Simple: Collapse
Never look back when someone calls your name. Always love whole-heartedly; by no means forget that person. Their heart, so fragile holds the deepest secrets. The darkest reside within yours. A mantra of the softest sounds reverberates around you. The voice of contempt, sits humming the secrets of your heart to the rest of the world. An experience no one forgets. Her sweet laugh was always welcoming. An assuring notion she shows.
Soft fabric flutters gracefully in the wind. Fabric made up of the softest threads, the most expensive. Nothing was ever as priceless as she was. She was a jewel, a shining amethyst. Now dull from the neglect. Hidden away from the world that once knew all her secrets, now she sits unseen in the depths of the morphing earth. Or rather, high above the clouds, all secrets free floating in the unending black hole of space. Soul forgotten in the bleeding womb laid the still child. Unbeknownst to the family closest, they stray away to become the distant family in retrospect. Heart mended, time procrastinated, and she lay burdened by the body that betrayed her. Faithful mister stood near unfaithful fiancé.
The violet eyes haunt her every being. Jet-black hair provides her dreams with the unwanted attention of the shadow of a child. Black eyes instill the pain just beneath the surface of the façade she had had since birth. Unused until the silver band of devotion made its home on her precious extremity. Passion exchanged unnecessarily for necessity. Illegitimacy spawned deceit and unhappiness.
To be lost in ones own heart is truly something to pity. A heart too full perhaps, cannot fill with the passion most would associate, but with deception and conceit. The eyes of the husband bore into the eyes of the wife. Her eyes unseeing, his eyes see everything. No violence of course, he is too good to stoop that low to retrieve it. No longer able to stumble back into the home she once yearned to leave. But stood planted to the spot he had ground her in. A mandatory love he would call it. Forced is what she would call it. Her youth's frivolous affairs began to fade along with the pain that lay deep inside her. The slow progression of the dagger as it is unsheathed from her profusely bleeding bodice.
Wicked they all called the senior of the young boy already a man. The son of the light haired businessman. They stayed unaware of the temporary new addition to the empire. The momentary heir of the two biggest business empires in Japan, the brief bridge that would have astounded the world had it survived. Child of the damned, their parents would have called it. Had they even known about it. The third son of the dark haired businessman stood unnerved my his sibling's nine month vacation with his second year companion. Though he soon realized the reason she had been absent and why the grandson of the wicked had been neglecting him so often, he stayed silent. His father would see what was coming to him if he ever found out.
Home. Hell. There is a difference. Of course, there is a difference. A comfort to one person is a hell to someone else. That was always her explanation whenever her arranged husband asked whether she liked living there with him. He never really understood her answer but he respected her and her responses. As time wore on, she grew to love him, she never understood the concept of love and its many forms, but she realized that the wound of her still child where becoming more and more miniscule. The blond haired Frenchmen and only daughter of the dark haired businessman knew the ache never completely dissipate.
The curtain sways in the slight breeze, the softest silk. The silk lay tattered. No longer priceless. But a useless decoration. He was a marionette with the strings cut then retied. There he was back into the grand plan of his grandmother's strict regime. Not free, just dealing with life as it appears. A turtle on its back, basking in the hot sun, unable to do anything about its position until a sudden burst of strength, a true miracle, adrenaline, rolls him back over. In the form of a young man, with dark grey eyes, staring straight at him, reaching for him. The grandson of the wicked was no longer lost in his eternal passion, but safe in the many pairs of arms that surround him, one fragile pair in particular…
The only daughter lay safe in the arms of the husband she loved until death do they part. Her youth is now just a part of the past she must try hard to forget. Clouds must drift over the Earth in their cynical fashion. She must stop the vicious circle. Shooting stars will plummet to Earth no impact made. Or rather, his violet eyes will no longer haunt her dreams; the soft laughter of the child she never got to actually hear will be a sweet lullaby. Gone astray somewhere in some burning field she walks, feet blistered with the many mistakes she had made in her young life. Found by the strong arms of her other half, her real life has started.
Though they would never marry, both were truly happy apart.
Thanks for reading, for any one that actually reads this congrats, you get the key:
Son of light-haired businessman, blond haired Frenchman, second year companion, etc- Tamaki Suoh
Unfaithful fiancé, only daughter, she, etc- Fuyumi Ootori
Son of dark haired businessman, third son etc. - Kyoya Ootori
Wicked- Tamaki's Grandmother, (what's her name?)
Dark-haired businessman- Yoshio Ootori
Light-haired businessman- Yuzuru Suoh
Many arms- host club members
Fragile arms- Haruhi Fujioka
I think that it… anyway, I don't know why I didn't want to use their names, maybe it's just more mysterious that way… review, you know you want to. :D