ANGEL
Jin Kazama's definition of an angel was, simply put, Ling Xiaoyu.
She was innocent, naïve, sweet, caring, kind, and every other word synonymous to those. He admired her for those qualities, for he was quite the opposite.
He also admired her for having the ability to accept anything and everything people thought about her; he knew she was not well-liked, although he had never understood why. People claimed it was because she was too happy or childish for their liking, but Jin didn't see what was so bad about that, and besides, they didn't know what he knew—that there was so much more behind that gleeful smile of hers. There always had been. After all, everybody has a story to their life, don't they?
He couldn't count how many times he had watched her help random strangers on the street whenever it appeared that he or she needed it. Another quality about her that he liked—she was always trying hard to help someone, no matter what the situation was, or the size of it.
She was purely an angel; what more could he say?
Sometimes, when he looked at her, he had the urge to break the halo it seemed she was always wearing above her head—of course that was just the devil in him speaking.
But, to tell the truth, even Jin Kazama wanted to taint his little friend—because anybody and everybody who's not innocent wants to taint an angel, even just a little bit.
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I feel like it's been forever since I last shared something here. Well, here I am. Yes, I do realize that this is an extremely short and pointless piece, and that there is a lot of grammatical errors in it, but what the hay. Perhaps it doesn't make any sense, either? I tried. I don't think I did a good job of portraying what I really wanted to write about, but I was suffering through major writer's block. Maybe when I get hit with some real inspiration, I'll revamp this piece. I don't even know why I'm posting this, to be honest. Thank you for reading, anyhow!