03.time
There wasn't time for love and laughter, or pain and tears, or even time to breathe. Not now, not even in the cold and dark of night. Castles were dank and damp at night, and Oblivion was no different.
There wasn't time to feel sorry for herself, donning the stiff black robe they all wore. For better or for worse, she was here now, she was a part of something much bigger than herself or the Organization or even the damned Castle.
There wasn't time to think properly, pulling the hood up as she moved through the torch-lit hallways, carefully planning each step. She followed orders, did like she was told. It was as she was taught, and it was how she would get ahead.
There wasn't time to consider the consequences, not when he was pulling her arm insistantly, not when they were slipping into a shadowed alcove. This was her thrill, her sanity, these stolen moments. His lips on her neck, her hand in his crimson hair. Entwined, perfection.
There wasn't time to flee, not when she felt so alive.
--end--
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