So very fitting, it is.
The weather, and the people it harbors.
Or perhaps the other way around.
The temperature in his eyes sends a shiver through anyone
Anyone, and everyone,
And even if he doesn't want it, it is so.
There is no place for him to go
Because there is no point.
Even the most passionate attempts at warming
Can't melt such a frozen soul.
Everything about screams,
"I'm cold."
His eyes are endless masses of frigid ice,
Layers and layers of jagged, broken hate.
His voice is slick and sharp,
His posture is stiff
His words are laced with bitter malice,
So bitter your face contorts as your body shudders.
There is no other
That can chill a room,
A place,
A world,
Like he.
And his place is outside,
With the moon overhead,
And his eyes turned up towards it.
Two cold hearts in one cold city.
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This drabble is about Saix and how he's really, really…well, cold. Inspired, of course, by Winter.
Also, I'll give yesterday's drabble challenge a few more days. So if you're still thinking of one, or if you haven't read it yet, everyone can get a chance.