The Rose Rebels
N a m i n e oOo C e n t r i c
You hate drawing. You absolutely detest it. The feel of the crayons gliding across the grains of the paper drives you insane. You want to quitquitquit and run farfarfar away, but you can'tcan'tcan't because you know that if you manage to drop that crayon and run, he'd find you. He'd hunt you down (relentlessly, like a hound does its prey), and when he found you, he wouldn't hit you (because a gentleman neverevernever hits a lady, he constantly reminds you), but simply chide you in that damn disapproving tone of his (and it makes you sicksickmadsick when you hear it) and drag your ass back to that damn white castle with its damn white walls and stick you in that large snow-colored room with those damn crayons and that useless sketchpad.
Ah, the sketchpad. You flip it open, and take a look. A smile comes to your lips. You were ordered to give the keybearer new memories, to draw false truths and bring them into reality. On every page, you were supposed to draw a false life for the Keyblade Master. Key words being supposed to. Instead of those false truths, you've filled every page with roses (because you know he loves them) and HIM. Yes, the same him who drags you back to the castle (on those few occassions when you manage to escaperunawaybefree) and who chides you in that voice that you absolutely hatedespiseloathe(yet loveadorecherish at the same time). Memories begin to flood as you gently and lovingly gaze at each page. Then your smile spreads as you toss those damn picturesmemoriesdreamsNIGHTMARES into the fire. Afterall, if he can rebel, so can you.
You pick up a crayon and begin to work with a new goal in mind. You never did like roses anyway.
Author Rambles-I am not happy with this. Not at all. However, my muse said I needed to write something to keep my writing skills up-to-date. I was aiming to do a Namine fic anyway, but this turned into a drabble. o.O Oh well. The HIM was, for those who haven't played CoM or KH2, Marluxia. I wasn't planning on it to be like this, honest! But my hands and brain never got along much anyways...
The title just seemed to fit. It doesn't make a lot of sense, but still...meh.
Dedication- No one cause I don't think it's good enough.
Disclaimer- Nein. If I owned it, would I write about it? Thought so.