RATING: PG/PG-13
PAIRING: Anti-Sora x Namine
WORD COUNT: 378
PROMPT/REQUEST: 15pairings - THEME SET 1 - 10. indecent exposure [see homepage for list of prompts]
I wrote this over a year ago but still like it, so I figured I'd post it.
He's darker than any crayon in her box. He almost makes them seem caring. Almost makes her think that, maybe, Demyx is right and they do have hearts, because there is no way he has one.
And yet his dark tendrils snake around her and she can feel it; she can almost hear it, beating within him. It's caged up, ready to burst forth, and he depends solely on it. He lacks everything she has, and she lacks the one thing he possesses. She wonders how he got in, her mind whirling and wondering why something seemed so damn familiar as she's pressed against the floor, that heart beat ringing in her ears as if it were her own.
She can nearly feel his wispy hands slide down her arms, his eyes burning into her in a shade of yellow she could never quite master had she ever tried. It was as if she had been living in a black and white movie against the dark black coats and pure white walls, only to finally discover what color really looked like.
She lifted an arm, threading fingers through the dark blue-brown of his hair, almost as if she could hold it. She didn't dare though. She didn't need to. An artist doesn't need to touch, only to see.
His hands snaked down her side, feeling a solid form and maybe imagining what it must be like, if only he had more then a heart. She looked over the blue patterns and shapes on his clothes, burning them into her vision as well as she could. He's moving constantly, and if not for her breathing Namine wouldn't be moving at all. Her hand falls back down, the contrast of peach leaving navy, and then he's gone.
She opens her eyes, or maybe they were already open and she's only now realizing, only now really seeing. She sits up, dress wrinkled and paper everywhere.
She got up, not thinking of what she was sure maybe just happened probably. She sat down at her table and searched for her black crayon, breaking it. She seized the white next, snapping it in half. Pushing the pieces aside she picked up another crayon, fresh and new, never before used, and drew in color.
Thanks; I hope you enjoyed! As always critique is loved and comments welcomed.