i miss you, love
xx
The fallen star brings with him strange dreams.
Princess Sakura knows, never quite certain whether he means for her to pry, or if it is completely unintentional.
There is gold, stitched like thread to carpets' gloss and every colour imaginable that makes the life she lives her pale in comparison. The rainbow blinds her, saturated in sylphlike etherealness. The colours drench her dreams and soak her skin, and she is uncertain of what they mean. They are not prophecies, neither draped in ivory bones nor carved into its marrow; and they are not creations of the unconscious mind either.
She is not sure what they are, but she thinks that they mean something.
Vividly, they capture her attention, in haughty hues that are stylized, that she cannot help but admire it, a smile on her bonny face.
A fairy tale, she could call it, one so pretty and elegant.
She wants to be in it.
xx
Sighing, one midnight, when she wakes from that recurring slumber, the Princess wonders why the nightingale sings so sweetly, perched outside her window. It is such a pretty melody, almost a shame that it only is heard during the night; yet if everybody heard it, wouldn't the nightingale's charm be lost?
It can be her secret, the Princess Sakura decides, entranced as try to approach the bird. She tries to float, to glide across the floor and not stumble — trying her best not to make a sound. Yet it is futile.
For it doesn't sing to her when she reaches the window, preferring to fly away while the breeze plays with the feathery wings. But Princess Sakura waits, remaining by the window, perchance another nightingale — not the lark — decides to serenade the night sky.
And as she waits, she catches sight of the strange boy with strange dreams.
He sits beside a fountain, illuminated by the lunar circle caught on star's web, moonbeams shining upon him; but he notices nothing but the water, shimmering and rippling.
Therein, this image, idyllic as it is isolated, is what spurs the Princess Sakura's impulse to befriend him.
xx
She does not mean to frighten him, but ultimately does.
Her hand brushes his shoulder, and, startled, he jumps, taken by surprise.
"I'm sorry! Are you alright?" Quickly, her words spill out too hastily, a jumble of nonsense that is too fast for his ears. Concerned, bashful, Sakura bites her lips, not intending to frighten him, and feeling all the more repentant for it. Averting her eyes from his, she begins to form an imaginary circle with her big toe on the ground. She tries again, in a slower tone. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you. It's just that I… well, I saw you… looking out my window." She points to it, emphasizing that she spoke the truth and not a lie.
"Oh." Slowly, his mouth parts, and he stares at her, maintaining silence for a very long time. "I see."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
"No, it's alright. I was surprised, that's all." His voice is… far more pleasant than she thought it would be. Honestly, she didn't know what his voice would be liked, but Sakura didn't think she'd like it this much.
Her face flushes, cheeks warming much too fast, as he surveys her, blue eyes memorizing her figure, capturing her essence and locking it in his memory for a rainy day.
"You're very pretty." He says simply. "I'm sure you'll be an excellent queen."
She smiles at that. Though she doesn't know why. His words are nice — perhaps that is reason enough.
"And you have an even prettier smile." The boy says, almost affectionately.
"Thank you." Her smile widens even more, and the tension and awkwardness is less tangible than before. "May I ask what are you doing here?"
"I couldn't sleep." He admits to her, shyly; his eyes seem to glitter in a mischievous manner, and she remembers all those dreams — sweeping, glamorous, enchanting — and cannot help but grin in return. "My cure, I find, is to trace constellations." At her puzzled expression, he clarifies. "Ah, that is — marking stars."
"Is that what you did before?" Curious, the question is out before she realizes it.
"Yes." And his face flutters, the soft lines on his face changes into wistful nostalgia. "I did."
"Then…" Here, her face scrunches up, bemused, and the strange slender boy cannot restrain laughter — delicate, like china, the Princess thinks. She doesn't mind, she assures him. "… why were you looking at the water?"
His eyes blink slowly. Bemused, he asks her. "Is that odd?"
"… I don't know. I've never marked stars before. But… I think… if I were, then I wouldn't be looking at the water." Cautiously, she admits, somewhat beleaguered in this topic.
"Ah." Cheeks, once seashell pink, visible even in the night's luminance, fade. He grins impishly at her. "No, I suppose not. But it's fun if you do it this way."
"Oh?" Curious, she sits down beside him. "Show me."
When he grins at her, the Princess is surprised by its effect, taking her breath away.
The boy begins.
"Here, we have…"
xx
what are you waiting for? she asks, ever curious, ever inquiring.
he takes his time in answering.
the changeling child.
xx
"Fai? Is that your name?"
"Yes, what of it?"
"We've never been introduced. That's all."
"Then, I suppose, we must fix that, mustn't we?"
"I'll start. Hello, my name is Sakura."
"I'll continue. My name is Fai."
"It's nice to meet you." Simultaneously, they say, before laughing with each other.
They don't retire to their cotton swathed duvets, lingering on and basking in the moment, at that fountain, waiting for dawn to smother those sparkling orbs in a rosy wave.
The larks begin to sing.
xx
come home soon