Word count: 1, 218
Wind
She had always loved the wind. Ever since she was a little girl, she had stood outside and relished the feel of a warm breeze against her cheek. She would be there; poised to close the window, then disobey her mother at the last minute because there was just no way she could shut out the wind like that. It wasn't possible.
She loved the moon too. The white expanse of it captivated her, called to her in a way the sun and the other stars never could. She used to spend spells just gazing at reflections of the moon on the water, poking the little ponds with a finger and watching them ripple gently, rocking the reeds within it. She dreamt of flying, flying so high that she could touch it, touch the moon's ethereal light and break the perfect surface with a mere breath. Those hopes, however, were dashed by the time she turned nine, after learning that the moon, pretty as it was, was only a rock floating in outer space.
And then there were wolves. Big, dark, hairy wolves that glistened under her moonlight and snapped at magnificent white dogs. She liked the dog much, much better, but the wolf – it, it intrigued her, called to her, and gave her a guilt quite unlike anything she'd ever felt. She honestly couldn't remember what she'd ever done to offend the creature, but she could feel its anger, so prevalent each time it fixed her with its bright blue eyes. She often wondered, had things been different, she might have grown to love the wolf, almost as much as she loved the beautiful white dog.
She sighed, resting her chin on clasped fingers. She had been daydreaming again, when she really should have been doing her homework. The petite teenager shot a look at the sky outside, frowning at the brightness and stale air. She hated summer. It was so damn hot, and the air was stifling. It often gave her headaches.
But it wasn't summer yet. It was only spring, but the past few days had been especially warm and uncomfortable, forcing the young girl into the comfort of air-conditioning and shelter. Her newfound friends had invited her to go swimming, but the adolescent politely refused, not wanting to get herself into an awkward situation. Cautiously, she reached a hand to touch the small of her back, running her fingers over where she knew her curious birthmark lay. It was hideous, really, the dark brown almost an unnatural contrast against her pale skin. It looked like a spider, almost. And she hated spiders.
Spiders. She shuddered. They were such disgusting things, slinking around in corners, weaving their nearly invisible webs to trap the unsuspecting. She hated bees too. They made the most god-awful noises, the buzzing enough to driveanyone insane. And the way they hovered! Like they were going to sting and poison you at any moment. The teenager gave another inward shiver, feeling remarkably lazy as she stared at a spelling mistake in her essay.
'What's the point?' she thought, rolling back onto her wheeled chair. 'It's not like people are going to care if I know how to define a proper noun from a common one when I get a job.' Her heart felt particularly heavy and sore today, and the young girl was surprised at the lack of life in her being. But then again, perhaps it had something to do with that enormously tall, gorgeous university student that was standing outside in the cul-de-sac underneath her window, watching his little brother shoot baskets with a guarded look.
The teenager squinted slightly, looking out of the window with rich, almost crimson eyes at the other boy who was currently scowling under his older brother's stern presence. She watched him open his mouth with an angry retort, then slam the basketball into the hoop with annearly feral intensity. He was such an idiot; she remembered seeing him around her new high school, constantly snarling at others and sporting an arrogant act that fooled nobody. But his elder brother…she took another breath. Such arrogance. Such authority. Such…power. How horribly tantalizing.
He suddenly looked up, scanning the sky with shadowed eyes. She felt her heart catch in her throat; he was even more beautiful in movement. Such grace!
She didn't know what it was that drew her to him so, or why the mere thought of him made her want to be submissive, and obedient. She knew she was anything but obedient. Today was one of her strange days, when her mood lay especially down, but most of the time, she was probably the most fiery, disagreeable person around. Almost as disagreeable as her obsession's little brother. She chuckled half-heartedly as she remembered the swearing competition the two had gotten into just last Thursday.
The girl looked down at her paper again, absently erasing 'dasterdly' and replacing it with the proper spelling of 'dastardly'. Her eyes clouded over for a moment, and she thrust her current sheet away, dragging out a notebook that lay buried under her half-completed homework. After shooting a strange, wistful look in each direction, she flipped it open, pulled out a pen with a feather attached to it, and began to write, whispering the words under her breath as she did so.
'The wind sorceress approached the stoic taiyoukai under the moonlight, with only one thought in her mind – Freedom, freedom from her creator. And this man was going to grant it to her, whether he liked it or not….'
A series of thundering steps from outside her door made her pause, then frantically stuff all her writing into a drawer. She whirled around just in time to see her uncle, leering at her from the doorway. His chilling smile cracked a fraction bigger, before he crossed over the threshold into her room.
"Not done yet, I see…" he mused, his deep voice deceptively gentle in the room's cool air. Shooting an annoyed glance at the open window, he strode over and yanked it shut. "No distractions."
She nodded, turning to face the table and dutifully writing the last few numbers for her math equation. She prayed desperately that he would leave. Today however, he wasn't in such a good mood, and before she knew it, his overpowering form was behind hers, suffocating her with his…aura, almost. Quick as lightning, he grabbed a fistful of thick black hair and wrenched it towards him, bringing her face inches from his. He spoke.
"Don't waste time," he growled, minty warm breath caressing her skin. "I won't tolerate it." Then, just as suddenly, he let her go, striding out of the room and shutting the door behind him with a bang.
She stared vacantly at the table before her, shaking with an indescribable emotion, tears welling up in her normally scorching gaze. For a moment, she did nothing. Why did she still cry? This had happened so many times already...but why did she still feel so violated, so low, so much like dirt? Abruptly her mouth twisted, and she grabbed her sheet of math, roughly tearing apart all her hard work. The pieces fluttered gently in the air, raking the sides of the desk before dropping, one by one, on the creamy white carpet.