she, the witch, sits alone in a field within the shade of a willow’s branches the sky is blue, but covered by small, puffy clouds. they seem to glow with the bright sun behind them the witch sits, head upon her knees hands twisting blades of grass into nothingness. her right hand touches a weed, a clock she lifts it to her lips blows, scattering the seeds her eyes lift, looking toward the edge of her field as the sun bursts from behind the clouds. from the trees bordering her garden a boy, near her age, emerges. he has no magic air; his parents are bakers. she the witch knew him only by sight; she had seen his mother’s hand strike his cheek when his elbow put one of her best loaves in the fire. he smiled, a soft, warm smile as his feet brought him ever closer to her the witch. he finally stopped standing near her in the gentle shade his head tilting toward the ground, as if asking ‘may i?’ the witch tried to smile nodding toward the earth beside her and he sat, the light smile still on his lips. the witch’s pocket quivered her broken heart twitching within it she removed it, holding it to her chest gently petting it, soothing it. the boy watched, his eyes focusing on her heart. his fingers slowly reached up brushing the heart the dirt and dust fall and the heart shivers and quakes. his fingers trace one of the heart’s cracks the flesh pulls together healing fixing mending. his fingers wander further closing wounds, softening scars he holds the heart, cradling it in his hands the witch’s hands, tiny, delicate place themselves on the boy’s guiding his hands, her heart to her chest. he pushes it the heart through her chest. it beats once. twice. badum, badum. her hands, still holding his raise to her lips, and press against his hands to her lips. his fingers turn, twist trailing against her jaw her eyes close as he the mortal pressed his lips to hers the witch’s.
[.Ichigo-Chan.] · Tue Mar 03, 2009 @ 12:50am · 1 Comments |