The wind sweeps across her high cheekbones like a bed sheet; silky, smooth, and early in the morning. In essence, the wind is her true lover, a gentle hand slipping the covers across her delicate skin until she lies in a heap of vulnerability, all ankles and wrists and collar bones. The wind to her is to her both commanding and soft-hearted, for some mornings dawn with a whistle and a slash against her ivory skin, and others dawn with trails of kisses brushing down her stomach.
But the window is closed in their room tonight. There's no wind to distract her from the way her shoulders ache, and that trail of kisses is leaving burn marks. And oh, though the wind be her true lover, her false one takes all the more precedence: formed in such a way that his being demands her first attention, steals away her love for the unseen forces around them.
They've been fighting.
“You know it's not my fault!” There's tears streaming down her freckle-strewn face, discarded by black-blue eyes that feel too much, want too hungrily, break too easily. Around her naked figure (cloaked thinly by the gauzy sheets), feathers are strewn - black and blue, like her eyes. The girl clutches a handful of them in one hand, too aware of where they should be, nestled in her wings. The awareness comes from the pain: a slowly increasing ache, a sensation that over the course of their relationship has been harder and harder to deny.
“Please stop pacing like that Adrian, I can't concentrate, I'm scared.” She's crying more now, too-thin shoulders trembling. The black tendrils of her hair are strewn messily across her wet face, some strands stuck in her mouth, but she doesn't move them. When she hears that he does not stop - or perhaps when she hears that he does - little Cinzia crumples in on herself, a dying star, bony arms around bony knees around bony heart.
They'd been trying to be intimate.
It's been harder lately, and tonight was supposed to go well. Romantic candle-lit dinner, hand-holding that caused no ill effects to her health. For a few minutes, she'd even forgotten the pain he puts her in, and the way she can see his heart break through his beautiful red-blue eyes each and every time he does hurt her.
There's snot on her arms, she's getting louder.
“I love you but - but -”
“I'm just so scared.”
Cinzia
cobalt skies like midnight lies
warm hellos and cold goodbyes