Tiny and vivid hues, traveling around, searching for the snow. When will the cramped, chilly and satisfying little shooting stars begin to fall, fall to the cold ground, covered in a silvery coat. A breathtaking beauty, that would capture the attention of all. Its pleasent presence among this earth can onlz last for so long. Like a dropplet of a flame, descending into a small puddle of water. The tiny shooting stars we ever so oftenly called snow, would come and go. Just like the winter. Little time it spends here among us, but do people acknowledge what it gives us all? Rarely they do.
There they are!
The elouquent orb peered open, to the flakes heading foth the ivory toned ground. The man, gazing calmly at the droppings, let a muffled sigh escape his cold rims. The visible air descending into the endless depths of the sky, just as more of it flew from his parted opening, each breath limmitedly taken. This season burned his motivation, and his desires, drastically and dramatically. How he despised winter, this bitter cold, and the agitating snow. Just what he needed…the snow begining to fall when his hopes and intention were to wander around the cramped park, not too far from the dandy looking manor he owned to himself.
Short, splendid and quick steps were taken, grumbles peering from the cold and lifeless rims of the man. He took in every detail around himself, the irritating white stinging his cinnamon hues sharply. He spat in disgust, continuing his lonely journey.
His cardinal hair, nicely standing out from the surroundings, the dark, formal wear camouflaging his sinful skin, and mere flesh. It was dark, a very splendid wearing, with the most quailty of silk and leather, pitch ebony coloration, with the white sticking from the rims of the suit, and a golden to fill the button slots. A proud male, that had seen himself as one of the strongest aristocrats around. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. His hobbies were to be kept secluded. His harsh sins, his damned ambisions. Forming citizens, into small marionettes, we know as puppets. But this world is vile, and he makes it his foe.
He finally arrived at the crowded park, garnished in a pure ivory tonation. Sighing, the man settled down to an ice cold bench, crossing his legs in a dandy way “Damn this weather…” agitation and disgust were displayed, his brows furrowing dangerously. Another sigh was released from his merely parted lips, as the rest of his figure slided down a tad bit. A small nap wouldn’t hurt, now would it…his hues lightly and slowly started sealing themselves, a deep wonderland triggering itself towards the red haired man, a wonderland that we call slumber.
A girl. Skin pale, pure visage and alluring eyes.
He would meet a girl today. One to bring off the better in his soul, a girl like he never saw before, someone special.
The peacful nap lasted only for so long, before the dim church bells resounded the tock. Straightening his back, he strached his limbs and clingged to his yawn, wondering what this short but wierdly enough dream meant. Meeting a girl? How preposterous…deciding, he glanced upon the silver sky, sun not to be seen. His sturdy mind, aching from the work put in, to find out who this may be, that he is to meet soon.
“What am I even doing…this was only a dream, how can I expect to meet a girl out of the blue…looks like I’m getting dumber as day pass,God.” an intermission.