Written for Miko-chan. Because she needs her sleep, and I hope this'll bring her sleep. Oh—and because she needs love! -hugs her- :)
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Sense.
His leaving is inevitable.
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When she wakes up, she feels groggy and dazed. Dark eyelashes flutter for a few fleeting moments, moving at a quick tempo—her vision is blurring, all she sees is darkness. Her mouth is dry—her lips feel sore—she feels a throbbing pain washing all over herself.
Teal irises, clear and expressive, yet clouded and glazed over from fatigue and her deep slumber, dart to her right, to gaze out the window. Through the windowpane, all she sees is the dark, midnight sky. A dark, thick layer of ink, the shade of a panther's skin, splattered against the sky, dappled with soft, white specks of crushed pearls.
A cool, chilling breeze enters the dim room, chilling pure, flawless ivory-hued flesh. Bright jadeite hued eyes flicker to the window—a single window is opened, giving her a clearer view of the night sky.
(a window big enough for a person to jump out of, she muses bitterly)
A wistful, regretful smile graces her features—she is not happy. Nor is she sad. All she feels is regret—that the moment, where it was just her and him—that the moment couldn't have last for longer.
(it was short—fleeting—fugacious—yet she can still feel humid, ragged and rushed breathes fanning against her face, sending surges of heat through her face and neck—lips with a smooth, yet slightly brittle texture skimming the soft skin of neck, breathing sweet kisses across the smooth surface of her cheek, her neck, her knuckles, her ears, each kiss bursting with an overload of affection and passion)
The breeze whips coral and roseate hued tresses aback, soft, silky wisps of pink dance slightly, swaying in the bittersweet, cool winds. A dim light flits over a few strands of pink, shading the strands in all sorts of hues of pink.
(her hair is reminiscent of the spring—of lazy days, where the sun glowed with radiance and beauty, yet never burnt your skin—of days where you would spend the early hours of dusk only gazing at setting sun, at the twilight hours and you let yourself succumb to a peaceful ending—of cherry blossoms, fragile yet beautiful, only in full bloom at one point, before fading away—)
Pastel, dusty ivory glistens in the light, caked in a light layer of perspiration. Eyes of crisp spring leaves and ripe green apples gaze out the window, watching the pitch black sky, shimmering like a sea of crushed obsidians mixed with ink. A pensive, empty look resides within her eyes—the glittering dark sky was reminiscent of him. Dark, soot-hued eyes, captivating and alluring, filled with so many enigmas—soft, tousled mesh of night-hued hair, tinted with a natural streak of midnight blue.
(—but this blossom still has a long way to go before she would fade away)
'But,' She thinks, casting vivid teal irises downwards, causing slender spikes of black to cast a shadow over dusty magnolia, 'His leaving was inevitable. After all, it is what he is.'
(the wind hums a low, airy, yet resonant, sweet melody—poignant and melancholic—it was ironic, how the soft, hollow lulling of the wind fitted with her mood, with her emotions, with the unrolling scene of melancholy and heartache)
A dim light flits over the high bob of her rounded cheekbone—her small, mild smile is wistful, bittersweet. Because she knew it was inevitable.
Soft coral and rose tresses sway in the wind, dancing unwillingly with the chilling breeze. All she does is watch the sky, withstanding the apparition of him, the image of him, and how it refused to leave her mind.
(a droplet of pure saline slides down her cheek—the droplet glistens like pure, translucent cream, with a pearl at the end)
Teal irises watch—pink tresses dance—dusty ivory is unmoving. Only the translucent tear droplet moves and she allows it to move.
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When you sleep,
Do you wish to forget the sweet sensation of nostalgia,
And the heartache that follows obediently?
When you dream,
Do you dream of what we could've been?
When you awaken,
Do you regret leaving us?
It's questions like these that I wish could be answered,
It's questions like these that are better left unanswered.
But even if he doesn't know,
I could always tell,
That your leaving was inevitable.
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Fini.
SWEET DREAMS MIKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!