Ms. Bennington wrote:
Raven {f} •♥• Tikaani {m}
•••
I am the patron saint of lost causes.
Aren't we all to you just near lost c a u s e s?
Aren't we all to you just l o s t
♥
Raven. A strange name for one who was perpetually surrounded by the silky-soft iridescence of white-feathered doves. Raven brought to mind things of darkness, hard and unforgiving. I suppose her eyes, the beholders of her personality, gave support to her name.
Dull, nearly lifeless, but a haunting maroon that dug itself deep into the recesses of my mind, planting itself there and not giving me a moment of rest.
I was in love with her. Hopelessly. Unfortunately. Unconditionally.
♥
{{Should I continue with this one? If anyone says yes, I PROMISE that it'll get finished unlike all of my other ones. xD}}
{{I was requested to continue this, and I promised I would, so here goes. XD}}
•••
Take what you will, what you will
And leave. Could you kill, could you kill me
If the world was on f i r e
And nothing was left but h o p e o r d e s i r e
♥
It began with the rose. A deeper red than most others, something that caught my eye immediately. Deeper, darker, more pronounced. Different. I leaned down, admiring the blood-like shade of the petals, the delicate green of the stem, the elegantly curved and dangerous thorns, tipped in red; as if dipped in the blood of the flower itself. My mind traveled instantly to the eyes, the darkness of them, but I imagined them with the rich color that these petals possessed, instead of the dullness.
I picked the rose from the ground, careful to keep the thorns away from my skin, lifting it up to eye level, examining it. If I was to give it to her, it had to be perfect. Nothing else would do. This one wouldn't be thrown away like the last. I was determined.
"Planning for another rejection."
I jumped at the words, though I knew who they came from. The voice, quiet and whispy, dark, like the shadows she so loved to cling to. It was her. I didn't turn around, not at first anyways. I had to make my face the right expression, or else she would just turn away like before. It had to be perfect.
The words were a question, though they weren't spoken like one. They sounded like a melancholy statement in my ears. I turned slowly, the rose held upright and delicately in my fingers, and I struggled to not tremble. Her very appearance made my knees weak.
Her eyes pierced into mine, red versus blue, but I knew I was losing already. I could feel that today would be just like the others. I waited five seconds exactly, what I thought to be the perfect time, and then stepped forward, extending the rose to her as an offering and invitation. As a small hope.
She examined it slowly, her eyes scanning the evenly-spaced petals, roving the length of the two-leafed stem, thorns and all. Her eyes finally moved back to mine, and I slowly inhaled, awaiting her judgement tensely.
She reached out and took the rose, and I felt the briefest of touches, the soft brush of her fingertips against my knuckles. Her skin was warm. Despite the instense cold of her expressions, she was warm.
•••
•••
Take what you will, what you will
And leave. Could you kill, could you kill me
If the world was on f i r e
And nothing was left but h o p e o r d e s i r e
♥
It began with the rose. A deeper red than most others, something that caught my eye immediately. Deeper, darker, more pronounced. Different. I leaned down, admiring the blood-like shade of the petals, the delicate green of the stem, the elegantly curved and dangerous thorns, tipped in red; as if dipped in the blood of the flower itself. My mind traveled instantly to the eyes, the darkness of them, but I imagined them with the rich color that these petals possessed, instead of the dullness.
I picked the rose from the ground, careful to keep the thorns away from my skin, lifting it up to eye level, examining it. If I was to give it to her, it had to be perfect. Nothing else would do. This one wouldn't be thrown away like the last. I was determined.
"Planning for another rejection."
I jumped at the words, though I knew who they came from. The voice, quiet and whispy, dark, like the shadows she so loved to cling to. It was her. I didn't turn around, not at first anyways. I had to make my face the right expression, or else she would just turn away like before. It had to be perfect.
The words were a question, though they weren't spoken like one. They sounded like a melancholy statement in my ears. I turned slowly, the rose held upright and delicately in my fingers, and I struggled to not tremble. Her very appearance made my knees weak.
Her eyes pierced into mine, red versus blue, but I knew I was losing already. I could feel that today would be just like the others. I waited five seconds exactly, what I thought to be the perfect time, and then stepped forward, extending the rose to her as an offering and invitation. As a small hope.
She examined it slowly, her eyes scanning the evenly-spaced petals, roving the length of the two-leafed stem, thorns and all. Her eyes finally moved back to mine, and I slowly inhaled, awaiting her judgement tensely.
She reached out and took the rose, and I felt the briefest of touches, the soft brush of her fingertips against my knuckles. Her skin was warm. Despite the instense cold of her expressions, she was warm.
•••
{{Thankyou, Ravens! =D}}
•••
This was over before
Before it ever began
Your lips, Your lies, Your l u s t
Like the d e v i l' s in your h a n d s
♥
I lay still, my eyes closed, my hands closed into resilient fists on the cool grass beneath me. It reminded me of her gaze, but without the piercing of disapproval.
But perhaps disapproval no longer. She'd taken the rose, after all. Things must be getting better, now. And after she'd taken it into her hands, and had admired it, she'd looked up at me...with a smile. It was merely a twitch of her lips, but it was a smile. It had melted my very soul.
Now I was lying here, thinking of what else I could do, what other things I could give to show her my affection. Giving her my heart crossed my mind briefly, but I figured she really already owned it, and that the blood would be more revolting than romantic.
I was disturbed from my deep thoughts by movement next to me. My muscles slowly tensed themselves into knots as I opened my eyes. The one thing I could not stand was to be snuck up upon.
I turned my cold gaze to the side, blue and iced...and my gaze was met by the maroon I could not mistake. She was laying beside me, her delicate, pale, coldly-expressioned face merely inches from mine. I swallowed deeply, making an audible noise, and I saw the twitch at her lips, the smile. I tried to look away, to look anywhere else but her - it would be imperfect to stare at her for too long - but I found it to be physically impossible. I couldn't look away; my eyes were drawn to hers, captured by them.
Ensnared.
"Why do you look so...distressed?"
Her voice nearly threw me over the edge of that word. The world could come crumbling around my feet in a raging fire and I wouldn't even hear it. I was too caught up in her, in every word she was saying, in every plane of her features. Every eyelash. Every flicker of her eyes.
Because you're close enough to kiss.
The thought threw me even more off balance. It didn't come from my conscious, for certain. It came from my instincts, the wildly raging urge to wrap my arms around her and bring her even closer than she was to me. I didn't answer her question aloud, my expression staying the same, my eyes still looking into hers.
The twitch of a smile appeared on her lips again, but seemed to stay. She scooted herself closer to me, making my breath freeze in my throat as the irrisistible warmth of her arm pressed to mine. She leaned her head closer, our foreheads brushing, then our noses. I still couldn't breathe, and my heart was racing.
And then she kissed me. Her lips, so incredibly soft, warm, gentle, brushing against mine with a force less than a feather.
•••
This was over before
Before it ever began
Your lips, Your lies, Your l u s t
Like the d e v i l' s in your h a n d s
♥
I lay still, my eyes closed, my hands closed into resilient fists on the cool grass beneath me. It reminded me of her gaze, but without the piercing of disapproval.
But perhaps disapproval no longer. She'd taken the rose, after all. Things must be getting better, now. And after she'd taken it into her hands, and had admired it, she'd looked up at me...with a smile. It was merely a twitch of her lips, but it was a smile. It had melted my very soul.
Now I was lying here, thinking of what else I could do, what other things I could give to show her my affection. Giving her my heart crossed my mind briefly, but I figured she really already owned it, and that the blood would be more revolting than romantic.
I was disturbed from my deep thoughts by movement next to me. My muscles slowly tensed themselves into knots as I opened my eyes. The one thing I could not stand was to be snuck up upon.
I turned my cold gaze to the side, blue and iced...and my gaze was met by the maroon I could not mistake. She was laying beside me, her delicate, pale, coldly-expressioned face merely inches from mine. I swallowed deeply, making an audible noise, and I saw the twitch at her lips, the smile. I tried to look away, to look anywhere else but her - it would be imperfect to stare at her for too long - but I found it to be physically impossible. I couldn't look away; my eyes were drawn to hers, captured by them.
Ensnared.
"Why do you look so...distressed?"
Her voice nearly threw me over the edge of that word. The world could come crumbling around my feet in a raging fire and I wouldn't even hear it. I was too caught up in her, in every word she was saying, in every plane of her features. Every eyelash. Every flicker of her eyes.
Because you're close enough to kiss.
The thought threw me even more off balance. It didn't come from my conscious, for certain. It came from my instincts, the wildly raging urge to wrap my arms around her and bring her even closer than she was to me. I didn't answer her question aloud, my expression staying the same, my eyes still looking into hers.
The twitch of a smile appeared on her lips again, but seemed to stay. She scooted herself closer to me, making my breath freeze in my throat as the irrisistible warmth of her arm pressed to mine. She leaned her head closer, our foreheads brushing, then our noses. I still couldn't breathe, and my heart was racing.
And then she kissed me. Her lips, so incredibly soft, warm, gentle, brushing against mine with a force less than a feather.
