Erythema
Moonlight was leaking through an empty window. It spilled across the wooden floor and pooled on a outstretched blanket littered destruction. It was a white blanket, thing but soft. Heavy metal pieces were laying on it; some of them were twisted and most of them were blackened.
One could not easily identify what pieces went where nor if anything was salvageable. It was the effect of a brush with death. The red and black metal shards were neatly organized with reverence and care. The trigger guard was bent. The firing bolt was cracked. The scythe blade was broken in pieces. Crescent Rose, for all its worth, was utterly destroyed.
A lone girl was sitting atop her bunk bed. Her legs were not swinging as they dangled. They simply floated in the pale light. She had a pillow in her lap. Her hands were balled on top of the pillow, clenching it tightly. A light red blanket was wrapped around her shoulders. A red cloak was laid bare beside her. It was ripped along the tail and charred between the hood and cape. Silver eyes glanced at it momentarily before welling up.
The girl gingerly touched her bandaged shoulder. The bandage was tight and spots of red were riddled throughout. Blistered skin cried out in pain as she touched it. She gritted her teeth and her other hand clenched tighter to the pillow. The bandage wrapped from her shoulder to around her abdomen.
Slender fingers found raven black hair and ran through it. Hot tears spilled from her face and dropped onto floor. Silent drops fell from her face in the dingy dark. Ruby Rose, in all her spirit, was utterly destroyed.
Three sharp wraps broke the silent dirge. The large door creaked open. A tall man with grey hair stepped in. In his hands he carried a small plate and a mug. He betrayed no emotion as he glanced down at the decimated weapon. He strode slowly to the seated girl and tilted his head slowly to the left.
Silver eyes would not meet his gaze and pale hands pulled the blanket into a tight shroud. He made no reply and simply laid the plate on the floor beside the white blanket. On the plate were freshly baked cookies; chocolate chip, her favorite.
He did not, however, put the mug down. He held it up for her and paused. He felt the weight lessen before letting go. To his surprise, it didn't shatter on the ground. It was held firm by two, no longer shaking, hands. The grey haired man nodded with a glint of pride in his eyes. A small smile graced his lips before he exited and left the room to silence.
Thump, thump, thump
Heartbeats. All of them pounding through the silence. All of them trying to break the stoic veneer. She felt the warmth of the mug travel through her fingers. The ball of ice in her heart melted, slowly. After blinking away some caught tears. She pressed soft lips to the rim of the mug and tilted it gently.
The effect was immediate as perfectly heated ambrosia poured. It was hot chocolate, rich and warm. As she pulled the cup away, a faint grin fought its way onto her lips. He didn't forget the cinnamon.
