Sinful Jade
Green eyes. Emerald gems, I like to call them. They sparkle so profusely at me sometimes. I like to laugh with him, I like to talk to him. I don't blush anymore around him, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is him. I wanted him since I was ten, his quirky smile, his gentle laugh, the way he walks, the rage but compassion inside of him. Whenever I am close to him, I imagine him holding me in his arms, quivering, and his tongue rolling off the words I've always wanted to hear but don't know the meaning of.
And yet I can never have him. It's times like these that I like quiet times to myself. I swim in the lake, to get out all energy. Flawless waves come over me, and I am drowning in blue, wanting to die, breathing forgotten. Sometimes I am washed away by the beauty of the water that I almost stop living, that I go under the water with no intention of breathing, hearing or talking ever again. This is one of those times. I emerge from the water as I always do, breathing, regretting that I have left the world that is mine. The bittertaste savors in my mouth, and I want to feel it again. I need to die again.
My eyes are still closed, stinging in the cold, icy air. The freezing water around me is crawling around my bare body as I release the tears welling inside my closed eyelids. The lump in my throat is gone after the release.
And then, I open my eyes. I am disappointed at the second world I live in. I sweep my clothes into myself once more, and go inside the castle, shivering, pulling myself into the warmth of my shirt.
There are footsteps behind me. I walk faster, but the footsteps are still there. I turn around swiftly, catching the sight with surprise. It's Draco. The blood inside of me is drained out.
"Are you following me?" I croak, feeling my limbs discharge. He gives me a look that I've never seen before. That I've never learned before. A tender gaze, that seems to hold upon my face, studying my feautures. A chill goes through me. He makes me want things I am forbidden to bid upon.
But then, the passionate gaze is gone, an annoyed doubtful glance fills it's place. "Of course not," he says briskly, pushing past me, and I feel his touch, it lingers inside me, inside my clothes, inside my whole body as he leaves. I stand there, rigid, not knowing what to think. I've seen him watching me before, but all I can conclude from his looks is that he hates me. Doesn't he? I am golden, he's lime.
I can't have him either.
Green eyes. Emerald gems, I like to call them. They sparkle so profusely at me sometimes. I like to laugh with him, I like to talk to him. I don't blush anymore around him, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is him. I wanted him since I was ten, his quirky smile, his gentle laugh, the way he walks, the rage but compassion inside of him. Whenever I am close to him, I imagine him holding me in his arms, quivering, and his tongue rolling off the words I've always wanted to hear but don't know the meaning of.
And yet I can never have him. It's times like these that I like quiet times to myself. I swim in the lake, to get out all energy. Flawless waves come over me, and I am drowning in blue, wanting to die, breathing forgotten. Sometimes I am washed away by the beauty of the water that I almost stop living, that I go under the water with no intention of breathing, hearing or talking ever again. This is one of those times. I emerge from the water as I always do, breathing, regretting that I have left the world that is mine. The bittertaste savors in my mouth, and I want to feel it again. I need to die again.
My eyes are still closed, stinging in the cold, icy air. The freezing water around me is crawling around my bare body as I release the tears welling inside my closed eyelids. The lump in my throat is gone after the release.
And then, I open my eyes. I am disappointed at the second world I live in. I sweep my clothes into myself once more, and go inside the castle, shivering, pulling myself into the warmth of my shirt.
There are footsteps behind me. I walk faster, but the footsteps are still there. I turn around swiftly, catching the sight with surprise. It's Draco. The blood inside of me is drained out.
"Are you following me?" I croak, feeling my limbs discharge. He gives me a look that I've never seen before. That I've never learned before. A tender gaze, that seems to hold upon my face, studying my feautures. A chill goes through me. He makes me want things I am forbidden to bid upon.
But then, the passionate gaze is gone, an annoyed doubtful glance fills it's place. "Of course not," he says briskly, pushing past me, and I feel his touch, it lingers inside me, inside my clothes, inside my whole body as he leaves. I stand there, rigid, not knowing what to think. I've seen him watching me before, but all I can conclude from his looks is that he hates me. Doesn't he? I am golden, he's lime.
I can't have him either.