{Frozen Wishes}

Citrine wanted to escape her bitter exterior; pray beneath her blanket of snow is a beautiful woman and on a cold winters day her source of help is her youngest brother; Nigredo. Citrine/Nigredo

{Comments ; ; Another fic, wrote on my iPhone, this time in the tub while I was waiting for my conditioner to soak in XD I've lost the plot I swear some days…I was at work the other day thinking of a Sakura and Rubedo fic I never managed to write down. Oh and it shouldn't be a T but my best said the first sentence was a tad bit off, so teenager it has to be, unfortunately. Enjoy this – rather – pointless fic ^_^

It was warm; deliciously sweet; almost tantalisingly seductive as it flowed into her mouth; down her throat in a ht stream before dripping to her stomach to heat up insides that felt like frozen clockworks belonging to a freshly made silver pocket-watch. After ten delectable seconds of the foreign yet familiar liquid running down her mouth, she pulled the damp rim of the white mug she held from her thin rosy lips; swallowing what was left inside of her. Softly, as if it were a creature she needed to care for, she looked down to the mug, where the steam escaped the top angelically; floating into the abyss of the pure white surroundings of an Institute, she knew too well, blanketed in snow, which still from the sky in thick drops; more defined than the rain she knew so well in the Simulators; better than the blood that would stick to her uniform; join itself with her once clean threads unwontedly. The snow was welcome to hit her body; her covered black legs and frozen hands; sticking to her hair that was more like a faded shade of her elder brothers locks (though she never called him brother – only that boy – they were all meaningless. The boys, the Doctors, Scientists – all but her father – her daddy as the child inside of her begged to name him).

As she sat there, isolating herself as usual, the snow reminded her of her exterior; cold, flat, all one shade yet covering something underneath that was blossomed was utterly beautiful to others; feelings, desire of the flesh and mind she had cast herself away from; hopes and dreams that were once coloured brightly like the sleeping flowers under the weight of the bitter snow.

Citrine stole more moments of her pointless time, pondering on before a crunching of the snow pulled her instantly from her thoughts – her training having perked her mind even in areas supposed to be kind – and for another vain moment waste of time, she scolded herself from getting dragged too far into her own mind, which she found pointless – pointless to think, to dream, to remember.

Grazing her profoundly sharp eyes across the supposedly empty, desolate, courtyard, they met with the body of their youngest U.R.T.V; Nigredo; sticking out like a sore thumb with his too dark exterior against the sheer purity of the snow – the fragile snow that he could stain with his darkness. But then she wondered how odd she must have looked, but allowed that to slip – forgotten in her busy head. Even against his uniform he looked odd. Pale olive skin (dirty looking skin, she reminded herself, in the summer time), pure black hair and pale clothing and pale siblings. His eyes gleamed with childish curiosity at the sight of his sister as he walked just a few feet away from her now, and though such a thing disgusted her, she couldn't help but allow her mouth to pull words from her throat;

"What are you doing out?" her voice was harsher than she realised; much like the coldness of the snow that, until today, she didn't realise could be so painfully bitter against her finger tips. Was her voice much like that too? Painful against the tiny ears of the youngest child? For that was all he was – a child lost in their world.

"Albedo and Rubedo are resting," he explained to her with his softer tone as his feet stopped walking just beside the bench she sat at with her agonisingly lovely drink. "I wanted to take a walk."

Citrine could only stare. Nigredo stared back; thoughtful – thoughtless – worthless – everything. She wondered what he saw in her eyes as a barrier was pulled from her mind; her weakness being recognised by herself, though she had tried so hard to hide them in her life. His older sister's eyes. She wondered why she cared. But asked herself whether her snow would melt and she would be as fresh and beautiful as the carnations and roses embedded into the Institutes grounds or had her father destroyed all of her feminine qualities? Was she a monster – as she heard Albedo call himself – too? Had she ever even been as beautiful as a woman?

Biting her lip, angered at herself for her next movement – torn between emotions – she suddenly thrust out her arm; holding the mug of hot chocolate out to Nigredo, which had caught some of the snow yet the water was still hot; melting the snow to its liquid form within an instant. A shiver ran through her as her body moved in the cold air, and she wished to be wearing the grey scarf Nigredo wore yet she wouldn't let the wish escape her throat, let alone be thought of once more. She was stronger. Strong for her father. "Here," was her simple word; an order of sorts, so the young boy could only stare at her bewildered by her tone with her kind action. "Just try it," she felt a slight irritation grow. "It'll warm you up."

When he reached for the mug she saw his hands red and tattered; torn from this last expedition into the Simulator, causing her to sigh in slight pity. He took the weight of the mug from her hands, which she shoved between her bony knees for warmth, and a sigh escaped her throat in a thick white cloud as he attentively took a sip and offered it back. "A drink, Nigredo, not a silly sip," the bitter air was getting too much for her now, but she ignored it; not weak for her father; not weak; not weak, though she so desperately wanted to prove that she was – to prove she was human and he was her brother. She was trying to be kind; human of sorts – a woman she desperately wished to be yet feared to be without the support of her father. She was trying to melt the snow of her exterior … trying to prove to her beloved daddy she could be a woman; not a monster.

Beneath his cold chest, Nigredo's heart fluttered from the heat; his taste buds burning yet tickling with the flavour. How she possessed such a beautiful beverage was beyond him (though he figured it would have something to do with their father) but he yearned for more. Carefully, she shuffled on the bench; allowing him room she figured he wouldn't take but he did; her brother sat beside her for the first time. And he offered her the drink silently, but instead she stubbornly declined; not a word passing their lips or mental link. Lowering her head, she sucked herself into her mind; thoughts whispering so quickly, silently, around her she couldn't keep up with them.

And then … a soft fabric wrapped its way around the back of her slender neck; floating thickly over her shoulders; warmth encircling her – a feeling she had never held before. Slowly, she looked up to her younger brother whose grey scarf was around her muscular – unfeminine – un-childlike- figure and for the first time Citrine smiled at him. And she could feel the snow melting away from her brother kind touch; praying underneath she would be beautiful; a beautiful young woman rather than a machine trapped by her father.