Broken Wings
Disclaimer: I don't own CCS
Author's Note: Hey guys! Sorry, I think I decided to make my other fanfic "Gentleman" a permanent one-shot. Well, if you have any suggestions on what I can do with it, review on it. I really have no idea na. =)) Anyways, this story was an English project of mine, though I did not pass it as a fanfic but a real story, I want you guys to enjoy it and R and R! The project was supposed to be a short story, but it kinda jailed me up to the fact that the story has to be short. So, it didn't go so well. So sad.. T_T Anyways, I hope you like this one! ExT foreveeeer! ^^
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Chapter 1
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"E..Er..Eriol."
The bitter midnight air brushed upon her delicate skin. She felt coldness embrace her slowly, engulfing her. But she shrugged it off. She pushed locks of her long greyish her behind her ear and closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the whispering wind. However cold it was, it was not to bother her. She's had enough coldness in her life already; the winter wind was no to trouble her. She gazed upon the figure lying beside her.
And a small, sad smile formed from her lips.
She looked around her. She was in his rich, luxurious room. The walls were painted dark blue, like his eyes. He was laying on a king size bed at the far corner of the room and she sat right beside him. In the middle of his room was a grand piano; and beside it was a table with scattered papers that seemed to be there for a long time now. Beside his piano was a big, opened window that leads to his own personal terrace. The open window welcomed the moonlight. She turned her look back to him.
"Eriol."
She finally said his name straight, without any stutters. She has been watching him for awhile now, for days, for weeks, for months. He didn't notice her, not at all, but she was fine with that. He didn't need to know who she was, or that she has longed for him for so long now. He doesn't need to know that she has loved him for so long. He doesn't need to know that her eyes were always looking at him, wherever he went, whatever he did. He doesn't need to know that she was always sitting beside him, like this.
He doesn't need to know anything
She was content on being his quiet stalker. She was content on visiting him during midnights, spending quiet time with him, sitting at this side of his bed and watching him sleep.
Her fingertips touched his face and traced his cheekbones. He's becoming thinner, she frowned. She has noticed this for days already, it's like he lost the will to eat anything decent. Nevertheless, nothing has completely changed his features.
He's still beautiful.
He was charming and charismatic in his own ways. His eyes were the deepest and most overwhelming shade of azure, even if there were hidden behind his glasses. His skin was white, like porcelain. Sadly, it was cold as porcelain as well. His hair was as black as a raven, unruly most of the time, nevertheless it suited him best. There was nothing negative she could say about him, he was perfect. Perfect for her, and to everyone elese.
Unattainable. Unreachable. Untouchable beauty.
She felt her cheeks burn with a small tint of pink as she looked at his face. Even when he was asleep, he was still mesmerizing her. She was lost at that moment, slowly tracing the features in his delicate face, drowning in his magnificence. When she was with him, every second seemed like an eternity.
It was an eternity that she was happy to be in.
"Who," a cold voice cracked. "Who are you?"
She gasped and pulled back her hand, but he was too quick. He's awake already, and she felt the hard and tight grip he had on her hand. She wanted to scream, but she can't. She can't move, his grip was too hard. Words were angrily surfing through her head, but she stayed still. He sat up quickly when he felt her pulse in his palms. He looked at her with such fierceness and anger.
"Who are you!"
She couldn't not speak. She could not mutter a word. Her longing eyes were now clouded with despair and fright. She had never seen him with such brutal and deadly eyes before. She felt that his eyes sucked the life out of her. She open her mouth but no word came out, she was too scared. Not even a squeal. No, no sound at all. The loud thump in her heart increased, cold sweat formed in her forehead. But she could not do anything. She was powerless. She was scared.
She was at lost.
"Who are you!" He shouted in a more angry tone. He could not see her well; he was not wearing his glasses. Even so, the touch he felt from her skin was enough to tell him that his intruder was a woman. Her skin was so soft and her arm was too thin for a man. He felt a small guilt run in him, he knew his grip was hurt. However, woman or not, he did not care. He doesn't know who she is. What does she want? How did she get up here? Why is she here? How long? Too many questions bothered him about his intruder that it got him more upset.
He hated strangers.
"I'm asking you again... Who the hell are you!" He pushed her to the ground.
THUMP! Pain surged through her body once it collided with the floor. Her elbows felt weaker and she felt a little shaky already. Tears were already forming in her eyes...
She looked at him, glaring down at her as if she was an animal not worthy of life. The look in his took away her strength, she mustered all she had left and stood up, running towards the open window.
"And where do you think you're going!" He asked angrily, jumped out of bed and ran after her. She was scared to death, what will he do when he sees her? What will become of her? She was near the moonlight when he felt that painful grip again around her arm. He pulled her forcibly as she turned and looked at him.
There it was again, the deadly glare in his eyes. Her knees felt wobbly.
"I'm asking again." He walked steps forward her, she walked backwards in his rhythm, trying to gain as much distance as she could. Her eyes were filled were tears, but his eyes didn't seem to care of her pain. He didn't care about her fragility. "Who..."
A step forward. A step backward.
"Are..."
A step forward. A step backward.
"You!"
A step forwards. A step backward.
He stopped his tracks. She felt his grip loosen once the moonlight has touched her form. His eyes widened...
He stood there; his death glare disappeared and now was replaced by confusion. He blinked his eyes several times but the image does not seem to disappear from his view. He shook his head angrily and looked at her again, but, nothing has changed. He opened his mouth, but no more sound came. He wanted to say something, ask questions, and make her pay for intruding him at his sleep.
But he was simply at lost for words...
Was it real?
Was it real?
Was it real?
Are you real?
Questions that bombarded his head over and over again. But, nothing escaped his lips.
Not a sound.
Not a sigh.
Not a squeal.
Not a word.
Not a sound.
And he stood there, holding her, looking at her, examining her underneath the moonlight, while she looked at him with pleading and crying eyes to let her go.
Because underneath the moonlight he saw something he never thought he would see all his life. He saw something he long believed that only existed in fairytales, in children's dreams and wildest fantasies. But he was seventeen, he had long forgotten all about those things. He had long banished them in his mind.
But no, no matter how many times he told himself that it was impossible, that it was not real, it was still there. Looking at him straight to his face. He was too stunned to say anything, his childish fantasy coming into life in front of his very eyes.
He slowly let go of her, he felt weakness engulfing his being. She stood there for a moment. She looked at his confused look and slowly stepped back. Then she jumped from his terrace, disappearing into the night.
He could only look at the same spot where he held her tight. Because the moonlight has unlocked one of his childhood silly beliefs. He felt his knees decline.
Was it real?
Was she real?
Questions that bombarded his head over and over again.
Because that night Hiiragizawa Eriol saw a girl with beautiful white wings jump into darkness, he even held her hand.
Because Hiiragizawa Eriol saw a beautiful girl with white wings look at him with such anguish. She was breathtaking; her eyes were deep plum, filled with vulnerability and innocence. Her skin was pale, paler than his, not to mention colder. She was wearing a plain white dress that suited her features perfectly. Her hair was let loose, long strands of gray that danced with the wind. He was utterly lost for words.
Because Hiiragizawa Eriol saw a beautiful angel.
Yes, Hiiragizawa Eriol saw a beautiful angel.
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Hi guys! I hope you like it. R&R please!