username + number :: Ucanthandleme + 809102
kalon name :: Amos
prompt:
Perhaps my love, you are the brightest inferno, and I a moth, will gladly burn in your flames.
Amos looked down at the paper bag in his hand, steam slowly rising from the opening slit of the bag. A cool breeze blew past, causing the steam from the bag to fly just past his eyes, creating a foggy layer over his vision. Amos looked around once again, the warmth from the paper bag keeping his fingers warm protecting them from being nipped at by the frost of the morning. Person after person crossed his vision, a flurry of footsteps speeding past him as he stood waiting, a simple passerby. Crisp suits covered their bodies, black cases in hand, sharp arguments coming from their mouths as they spoke to others through the phone by their ears.
He just stood there alone. Silent and unassuming, his shoulders decorated with speckles of snow with a cool breeze dancing through his hair. Amos seemed all alone, just him and the brown paper bag in his grip. Yet he just waited, his nose turning red from the chill, snow powdered on his eyelashes as they flashed up and down against the wind, and his hands gently holding the brown paper bag. The others around paid no mind to him, each was in a hurry to be somewhere, their constant footsteps on the snowy sidewalk left imprints as they went.
A bell toll rang out signaling a new train arrival. Clasping the paper bag tighter Amos trudged through the snowy sidewalk forward towards the station, a warm smile on his face that only got brighter as he got closer to his destination. Looking up at the arrivals board he headed towards the right platform, his hair fluttering behind his back as he walked faster and faster. Nimbly he twisted through the gaps between the crowded bodies, the smile never leaving his face. Then he halted, the brown paper bag now only letting out a small spiral of steam yet was still warm and inviting to the touch.
Amos craned his neck waiting patiently until he finally saw a bright head pop out of the train doorway, the blue and red haired body scrambling against the tide of people. Rushing forward Amos headed toward the figure, clasping the body in his free arm he directed them out of the sea of people. He then found an empty seat, gently sitting down with them before removing his arm. With a smile he handed over the paper bag in his hands, the kal giving a cry of surprise quickly unpacking the warm treat inside. Powdered sugar covered their hands and mouth as they shoved as much pastry as they could into their mouth. Then they gave a sweet smile, “Thank you”, they spoke.
With a bright smile Amos's heart filled with a great warmth, more than the warmth of the pastry that was once in his hands his whole body now felt warm. Despite the chill of the night his whole body has a fiery glow, he himself likely unknowing of the red dust powdered on his cheeks at the moment as he looked at the other scoffing down the last pastry. Once the other had finished the last pastry and despite their powdered fingers he held the hand in the palm of his own, a sweet smile on his face. The warmth of another, the warmth of love, would help him overcome any winter.
Perhaps my love, you are the brightest inferno, and I a moth, will gladly burn in your flames.
(594/600)