02:29 am - Woot! I'm writing! And....a small excerpt of what I was writing.
This is for 30 kisses thingy and working title: Still Pictures
8. our own world; 22. cradle
Fruits Basket...uummmm whatever, spoiler for later chapters. *waves hand* Not telling the pairing but I think you can guess which pair I have. This isn't going to be a very long piece when done.
The bond is strong, stronger then steel. Or maybe he thought she needed to feel needed. Cold. No spring comes to his garden. No bird sings to the thawing air and ground. No flower blooms. The heart beats for no one. No one but for the lost. In this frozen world there is but two. His hand carefully brushes away stray raven strands of hair off her brow, before he yields a solemn single kiss on her cool porcelain cheek. Nothing enters in these hallowed rooms but the divine. Or one that serves a deity. His brooding face, unsmiling lips, and cool stare, all conveyed a stark clinical pall to his manner. A ritual set forth, time and time again. One that had ceremony and purpose as it was enacted with care but with no deeper emotion then rain slipping off a sheet of glass. Current Mood: tired