Hellooooooooooo Ib fandom!
God, I don't know how happy I was when I discovered an Ib section was here when I thought there was no such thing. Ahhh I hope the stupid site-fic purge won't ruin anything here. That would make me real angry.
But anyway, moving on!
Love
She scribbles the word down - almost absent-mindedly - with a bright yellow crayon, humming a mindless tune once sung to her as an infant would repeat. If they did at all. But she does not bother herself with such plain thoughts.
Love is beautiful, and it is free.
I would love to be given love.
She pauses to giggle, amused, as she looks over that particular second sentence. Yes. She would love to be loved.
Love is beautiful, and it is free.
I would love to be given love.
Love like the light of sun, love like the kisses of the sea, love like the bitter warmth of the snow. I would love to be given love, just like the sweetness of reality
Her crayon snaps abruptly. The blonde feels her eyes widen at the sight of the sunny, broken piece roll awkwardly on the paper - but the shock wears off as soon as it comes, and she merely switches to another of her favorite colors.
Blue eyes trail after the blue pencil - not a crayon because she's sick of them now and everything is made of her childish crayon scribbles anyway so no more of that - as she scratches the rough figure of a rose, right after the unfinished sentence that contained a hint of her soundless ramblings. When she's done, she holds up the paper as her forgotten pencil is dropped to be lost under her other drawings and books.
Mary smiles, and decides. The next person would have a mysterious, blue rose – if someone like that can even exist, of course.
-Personally, maybe, I might make this a chaptered thing. Remember, key word - maaaaaaaybe. God really knows.
Review if you like. Flames are not appreciated.
~Shiroi