I'm bak-but only for this story, please r/r-just some weird stuff that came
across me brain as I was mostly brain dead-which caused me to fold paper
cranes instead of writing-so I thought of this and yeah- here ya go-gotta
stop talking fore it warps my brain again-
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Legolas Lives In My Closet
Chapter 2- On The Inside
To peek or not to peek? That was the question Legolas comtemplated as he sat still and alert, feeling the cool, smooth wall behind him. The walls surrounding him were covered in pictures. Of what and whom, that is no other's business but his own.
Still, he waits, underneath the safety of the his clothes that hang on wooden hangers above him on the metal racks.
Surrounded.
By an assortment of all types of stuffed toys-beanie babies, bunnies, duck- type creatures, and then there were other mammals too-all different shapes, all different sizes, and colours.
He sat alone, plunged in darkness, with only a strip of moonlight peeking through from the room beyond.
The room he so loved.
The room he was inhibited from.
He had only his closet now. His little closet where he would decorate and play in, any way he pleased.
But it was still not the room. The room with the window that showed its onlooker so much more.
So much more-that was what he wanted.
More-He knew he could do so much more, without the solitary confinement of his closet.
He craved more; he needed it.
To peek or not to peek? The question had returned. Perhaps to haunt his precious? But no, not to haunt, maybe to dare, or suggest something more? Maybe Legolas could run free-grab hold of his potential out there. Far, far away.
To peek and see Her. See Her sleeping. See Her unconscious, doing so much more, as he wished to do so.
Away-in a happy dreamland. But if She stirs? Oh no. That won't be very good.
Stay here, stay here, stay.
Stay. Staying. Gone.
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~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Legolas Lives In My Closet
Chapter 2- On The Inside
To peek or not to peek? That was the question Legolas comtemplated as he sat still and alert, feeling the cool, smooth wall behind him. The walls surrounding him were covered in pictures. Of what and whom, that is no other's business but his own.
Still, he waits, underneath the safety of the his clothes that hang on wooden hangers above him on the metal racks.
Surrounded.
By an assortment of all types of stuffed toys-beanie babies, bunnies, duck- type creatures, and then there were other mammals too-all different shapes, all different sizes, and colours.
He sat alone, plunged in darkness, with only a strip of moonlight peeking through from the room beyond.
The room he so loved.
The room he was inhibited from.
He had only his closet now. His little closet where he would decorate and play in, any way he pleased.
But it was still not the room. The room with the window that showed its onlooker so much more.
So much more-that was what he wanted.
More-He knew he could do so much more, without the solitary confinement of his closet.
He craved more; he needed it.
To peek or not to peek? The question had returned. Perhaps to haunt his precious? But no, not to haunt, maybe to dare, or suggest something more? Maybe Legolas could run free-grab hold of his potential out there. Far, far away.
To peek and see Her. See Her sleeping. See Her unconscious, doing so much more, as he wished to do so.
Away-in a happy dreamland. But if She stirs? Oh no. That won't be very good.
Stay here, stay here, stay.
Stay. Staying. Gone.
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