Note from the Author: This is for my sister, Furuido, because she hasn't read my one-shots since I did that KakaTen request. -.-
Jump
Her feet are beautiful. Over his head soars any real thought because he is enamored with her lovely porcelain feet. She is a China doll with cool, flawless skin. She is still.
That is the most wonderful part.
Her feet remain, poised on their toes – she is dancing ballet – motionless. She is statuesque! – picturesque! – grotesque? No, he is grotesque. She is perfect.
Perfection has blanketed her. She is coated with no flaws. She is a painting, and he cannot see the strokes. She is frozen, strangely cool. When has her heated tone gone? She is different.
He likes it, and he does not. Her eyes are not angry, and she does not hurt him with her words. But why does he ache so? A throb in his chest, a desperate strive to escapes from the solitary confinement of his ribs; his heart reaches for her.
She is moving again, smiling, the picture of soft confidence, and her feet remain bare and beautiful as they nudge into the grass that loves her so. The green blades reach out to her, wanting to be the ones to cushion her pretty toes.
Her pause seems to last forever before she turns, and her perfect lips form perfect words to frame a perfect voice, slowly, it seems. It takes an eternity for the sound waves to bring it to his ears. "Are you coming?"
His ribs may be broken, because his heart has jumped into her hands.