the crossword puzzle part I
She had frozen eyes, eyes so cold that would not melt, she had pierced the soul of many, bewitching them with the charm of a maiden.
She was beautiful and lonely, her snow skin burned in the sun with glorious pride like of a refurbished city.
She walked alone, yet she was well sought after, and love is not what she finds.
"Clover." she was called, a name of luck yet never obtained.
She turned as she did her golden hair sparkled with wind in her hair.
Clover... the only word she had heard before her foster parents were brutally killed by the soldiers.
Heartless creatures who had lost their souls.
She smiled, it was her god brother. As she did, he died in front of her.
Her loved ones was always lost.
A bullet was in his heart and in a moment of lost, she hid with tears overwhelming her.
They were still finding her.
She was a blueblood, an aristocrat. And her true parents seek her. She was bore by a murderer, that could only see wealth.
Hatred and agony filled her, her existence was a cataclysm.
If words could describe, it was lugubrious.
Like a worn out toy, she was tattered and sore but yet it did not contain her beauty.
She was like an aurora in the night that would not be missed.
She lay by the pond far from the searchers, crying into her own reflection. A fair lady with a pair of beautiful azure eyes, her complexion clear, distinct yet with a touch of softness.
He saw her.
He was the exact opposite, his father tortured him to a life worst than a slave, he brought the bread home yet was never respected.
His skin burned in the sun, but unlike hers was with pain and sorrow.
Different from others, he did not want her beauty, he did not even have a tinge of envy of her backgrounds.
He pitied her as he laughed at her sorrow.
Clover was shocked, but not only that, she was angry. How could he laugh upon her brother's death?
She however did not know that a stranger upon the sighting could only see a blueblood in rags and nothing else.
She threw a stick followed by a stone at what she thought was a shameless slave out of nowhere.
She had thrown lightly for she had meant no harm yet he had yelped in pain.
Now she was concerned.
Clover looked at him, before slowly approaching him like a cat meeting a dog for the first time.
For once, the two different worlds approached, and time seemed to stay.
He liked her but not for her beauty, as he saw the pain that truly hidden, he apologised.
The hatred was washed away with a simple apology, as she grew more concern why he had hurt this way.
The distance had brought coverage and now that she noticed the scars on his face, torturous wounds on his body. It was almost akin to witnessing another death.
She could not bear the pain as she hugged him, calling her brother's name.
The nameless boy who was only called by "hey you" when his father was feeling kind.
When worst, the names were discriminating.
Even his mother before her death had yet to call his name, so much so that he had forgotten and took her godbrother's name for his.
He acknowledged his new name with a slight smile of his.
"Trefford..." Clover whispered. Whispers that cries in the wind, echoing through the emptiness of the forest that was brutally victimized by deforestation, deprived of its green.
Clover called the name of her godbrother once more, which now belongs to the boy, bringing tears to her face.
She had fallen in love, and she was not going to loose it.
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Novel also posted on deapologue(google search for it)