• Logout
  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    feel the moon hit the blacktop; santana
    #5
    “Space lice?” she repeats, scrunching her face in an obvious show of disgust and incredulity.  Never would have thought of that one on her own.  And really, until the day that she would pass, she would never really know, would she?  All the same she laughs,  “I’ll keep that in mind for next time though.” she says wistfully, her mind already weaving the possibilities his suggestion could amount to.

    “That’s a good answer, Tana,” she said, mimicking his own goofy smile, “I like it much better than sky bugs.”

    It’s not entirely surprising when he asks her the same thing in turn.  In the world she knew best, she could imagine them to be a million different, in a million different scenarios in a million different worlds.  But she thinks again - not for the first and not for the last time - that it would never be real, it would never give her the answer to the question she had first begged of him.

    “I’m not really sure,” she murmurs honestly.  “But I imagine, that whatever they are, that they must be lonely.  They look like they’re surrounded by their friends and family, but just out of reach and never really connected.  It’s sad.”   For a moment her expression and stormy gaze falls to the autumn skimmed ground in front of them.  But it is fleeting; because the draw of young hope wastes little time in eclipsing any feelings of remorse that the black spired girl had felt overcome with.

    “We’re lucky down here in that way, I guess.  I can just reach out and touch you if I want to.” as if to reiterate her point, she pressed her fire stained muzzle into his shoulder gingerly.  Perhaps she should regard relative strangers with more care, or maybe one day she would learn such a thing.  But she is more than content in just being the naive and whimsical girl her mother had always worried of her becoming.  And when she pulls away, she is smiling victoriously, shaking her head to finally correct the puff of forelock he had so kindly untamed.  Crossing her grey metal eyes to get a better look, she laughs again at how absurd she must look.  But it didn’t matter, she still held her head proudly and look up and over at him with a newfound curiosity.

    “Do you always roam the night alone, or do I have someone or something else to thank for your company tonight?”



    @[Santana]
    Reply


    Messages In This Thread
    RE: feel the moon hit the blacktop; santana - by Catcher - 09-01-2019, 01:11 PM



    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)