Disclaimer: I own nothing. Maybe just a plot, but even this I cannot be sure! (Remember, children, plagiarizing is bad!)
AN: Dedicated to my soul mate, whom I haven't seen for so long, and who, by having the same annoying traits, frustrates me so!
Also, to KG fan, sutaru mitsumi, Bananawings72, tadah! (hehe), fan-rei, nerian, restin and Lumier. Thank you guys! I don't really want to continue 'Whatsername', but similar fics may appear somewhen.
Paragon
by
Ta-dah!
You sure have a person who influenced your life the most, changed it diametrically, spun you around by 180 so afterwards you were dizzy and images your eyes perceived were blurry, but your mind knew clearly from then on. Whenever you muse about a certain individual, it is accompanied by a tinge of tenderness touching your bare soul and a silvery gold gleam in your eyes. It is indifferent to you whether their teeth are pearly white, the voice is gentle or raspy, and hair are smooth, even though it was long ago said by specialists that looks are immensely important to our view of people.
This person is perfect.
Everything you want to be.
The ringing sound of a laugh that you wish you could let out, is there.
That unconstrained carelessness that that person seems to be a personification.
The dazzling smile that awakes empathy and understanding, the kind of a smile you could not produce before meeting them.
And yet, they are everything you want to protect, envelope in crushing, comforting, warm as if it was by a woollen scarf - made by a grandmother you never had anyway – hug, close in a golden bird cage, and that knowledge is heart-rending to you at times like this.
At times when you see that person right before you, that is.
Sits right there, only about 4 meters away, as your ever-analytic mind unconsciously scrutinized. You see a delicate hand resting on a polished wooden desk, twirling between fingers a paper card, golden locks flowing freely around her face, as she shakes her head, with a smile on her thin, erotic lips – so innocent, word both suitable and scandalously inappropriate when used in connection with her.
And you get nervous – your palms begin to sweat and your hands start shaking – that damnable habit of yours, now the only thing giving away your weaknesses.
Your heart starts pounding boomingly in your chest. You can literally feel the blush creeping up to your face.
Damn!
Standing there, scared like hell, like you've never been – because in everyday life you're persistent, courageous, persuasive, quick-thinking, or so you've heard.
And quick-thinking you are, disappearing as if you've suddenly covered yourself with Invisibility Cloak, like a ghost on a night spent alone.
You waited for this for such a long time, every one of your doings have been done with the purpose clear in your head – to be worthy of her attention later on.
BUT she is exceptionally brave.
And YOU are now cowardly facing the mirror in men's loo. You are furious with yourself, clenching and unclenching your fists.
You take a few deep calming breaths and look around – it has become a habit since today, at the age of 25, (which, in your case, cannot be described in any way as tender) your essential ability is to take notice of your surroundings. Otherwise, you would be dead by now; times are dangerous, even though officially peaceful and serene.
The restroom is elegant, a weird term to describe the mien of men's loo. It is empty, but even if it was crowded, it would seem empty, nonetheless – the place is huge. The floor is marble, smooth and lubricious, and walls are covered with simple mirrors. It is sparkling clean, and neutral. Too neutral. You are used to such rooms, but it is definitely not what you wanted to see at a significant time like this, when everything will be eternally printed onto your memory.
'Face it' – the deep voice of yours, that has women swooning, now seems to be shaking. – 'You cannot do this. It's useless.'
A pause.
You smirk, knowing that if there was any observer right now, he would report you as a crazy maniac raging in the restroom. You look in your reflection. Pathetic.
'No! You have to. You must. You have achieved so much. United clans… Remember the most eligible bachelor? It's you, you imbecile.'
But it does not seem to work, and your voice resounding in this deserted room weakens. You take a deep breath again, and try to calm yourself by filling your chest with life-giving oxygen.
With painfully slow movement reaching the silvery faucet and touching the steely cool, you twist it. Without stretching to check over with the tips of your fingers the crystal water, you, without hesitation, dip your hands into shockingly cold liquid and, quickly as a flash, cover your burning face with millions of droplets. Soon, there is no trace of them on your sun kissed face.
You move your right hand, and deliberately unfold fragile, handmade watch. It shows 13:26.
You muster all your courage, and, feeling hot and dizzy, exit, gently pushing the door.
The bubbling whirls in your stomach are being pushed up your pharynx.
It feels like ages, walking steadily this spacious hall and ignoring flirtatious smiles and amazed looks you are given, emanating wealth and self-esteem.
It's no wonder; you are famous, after all.
Ages? Millennia. Eons.
The sound of your expensive shoes tapping on flooring echoes, and you look straight in the eye of your beholder.
You see, as if the movement is slowed, recognizing flaming up in her amber eyes.
'How can I help you, sir?'- A gentle voice of her companion awakes your mind from a hazy nap, and you ignore her.
'Éclair, long time no see, do you think you are able to have a coffee with me?' Your lips form a shy smile.
She firstly blushes profusely, and then smiles back a mischievous roguish smile.
'Why not? What about 3 p.m.? I have a break then. And yes, too true, I haven't seen you in ages, Tim.'
AN: The idea came to me somewhere between Chemistry and Geography, when I was close to falling asleep. So, what do you think? Every review is valued.
Damn, I'm even too tired to make some witty comment.
I wish you a happy life!