glass slippers
they call her a geek. they're crazy. namixas
cliche title, sappy content. argh. (authoress proceeds to run away)
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Roxas stares and stares.
They call her a geek. Freak with four eyes. Albino. Dork. All kinds of mean adjectives to describe her.
They're mad. And they're crazy.
Because it doesn't explain why when she stands before him with her hair down, her skin ivory, her eyes glistening into his without those rimmed glasses, his heart churns, his blood heats, his shoulders tremble, his knees wobble, his stomach swims with butterflies, his head spins, his breath stops, he forgets his name, where he is - and there's only her before his eyes.
"Wow." That's all he manages to say.
She steps out of the dressing room and lifts her eyes to him. He offers his hand, and she takes it in hers. His fingers automatically curl around those dainty, delicate ones, and when she places both feet into the pair of glass-like slippers, it feels so natural how his arm goes all the way around her tiny waist and bring her closer into his arms.
He takes in her strawberry scent, smells her hair, and kisses her hair.
She colors prettily. "I feel like Cinderella." Her eyes acquire a dreamy look.
"That's because you are." He says with a gentle smile. Roxas leans back to tug a stray lock of pale hair from her face.
"Are you implying something, Roxas?" She asks with a small smile that's unmistakable.
"Only if you are." He smiles and allows her to nudge him a bit in the stomach. He encircles his arms around her.
She tip-toes, and touches his nose with her finger, "And you're my prince charming then, Roxas." She breaks out smiling. "There, happy?"
"Uh-huh." He says, smiling boyishly. He touches his nose to hers. The gesture makes him color fast and furious. He's still not used to their close proximity after all this while. And he isn't the most romantic person around - he's still trying.
And when she pulls away, stares at herself in the mirror with disbelief, she tells him she doesn't recognize herself.
"You're beautiful." He tells her. He's flushing so hard.
"So you like me like this better?" She asks him.
"Like this." He assures her, then takes her hand in his. "But I'll like you in rags, too, and in anything you wear." He corrects, smiling boyishly.
Her fingers intertwine around his. "Love, you mean?" She teases gently.
"Love." He confirms.
And they call her a geek, an albino, a four-eyed freak, a monster.
He calls her his angel.
owari.