09-21-2020, 12:18 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 435px; text-align: justify; font-size: 7.5pt; font-family: verdana; line-height: 13px"]Another old drabble ft. Mars’ character based on this beautiful edit ; written on December 31 , 2019
Earth is nearly reaching to the end of a year— a decade.
As Time ever croons these tender bodies made in flesh or plant, lights slowly dying in their cores, the waves of an ocean that embraces the World will always come to kiss the lands, and a forevermore song made somewhere deep in Nature’s soft throat. Even centuries after centuries had passed by, with a home in the lover’s soul, imprinted with billions of stories and poems and prayers in black to royal blue to sanguine, this time, this particular approach to the new year that entities on Earth call it 2020 feels somewhat and somehow different.
Different. It is a rare word for them to use now. In this incarnation, they had tried to search for something new that they, Child Soul, hadn’t experienced yet. Yet they thought everything still appeared the same to them. They had lived roughly and softly, died horribly and gently. They just existed, nothing more, nothing less than that. Since the discovery of their true identity, their optimism was distorted, stained in ancient tragedies and uncertain futures. In this incarnation, remaining in the final day of the year before 2020 will embrace everything and everyone, they almost gave up.
Almost. It is an ever familiar thing that made Child Soul them. It is a broken promise, a faded dream, an I love you left outspoken. Though this story with this almost have a meaning that is different to them. After pondering over a bit, with a glass of sparkling wine in their hand while the wind caress them to stay longer at the balcony of Wesley’s home that can be theirs too ( to hide themselves away from someone who deserves better than them ), they realize this feeling of difference at the 2020’s arrival comes from a fact that Wesley is with them not as the Wesley Thorburn but also Xenphire now.
Nothing is ever old about Xenphire, they believe. Always does he bring something more than what they expect through his darling smiles, the soft heartbeats, and words blessed with his wisdom and kindness. He makes their life beyond a definition of paradise. Into the new year, while going through this stage of trying to accept themselves with every parts of them they had left behind in their blood and bone dusts, he would make their life softer. He had already made it soft as only the Wesley Thorburn they knew of, but softer is what makes everything more beautiful.
But does he still want them to be a part of his life, knowing they were a both friend and a killer to him?
They think, and think, and a hand gently lands on their shoulder: It was Xenphire.
Like before, they have nothing to offer to them as they stare at him. They know that he knows self-discovery is usually one of the hardest parts of living in an endless cycle, so patience and understanding are what he can give them, even for an exchange of their silence. Words can not be found in their mind, their heart. Only white noises fill in them with their veins, everything in them hum in a song of chaos, and they want to scream. Damn their parents of the forces for making them feel so helpless and pathetic.
But Xenphire just waits like he have always waited for them, with every incarnations he knows them of, to come back to his life. Every single one of their pieces, both beautiful and horrible, both a bless and a curse. They open their mouth to speak, but fireworks cut them off as they appear in the sky, temporarily painting it in colours beyond whites and blacks before neon lights shower to the oblivion, the smallest parts of memories to those watching them come and go. They flinch and nearly drop their glass, but Xenphire manages to catch it along with them— their vulnerability.
And to think he will do it again and again with them, despite anything and everything, they break into his arms as he embraces them to keep themselves whole, like any other time: Only full of adoration and acceptance. Both them and Xenphire does not even notice the countdown to the new year of 2020. Fireworks and cheers mean nothing to them now. They truly have each other once more as they will make each other’s current life hold many more differences in 2020.
“I’m sorry,” they spoke tearfully, “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Xenphire spoke gently, “I will always forgive you.”
And that is all that matters to the immortals in the end.
Earth is nearly reaching to the end of a year— a decade.
As Time ever croons these tender bodies made in flesh or plant, lights slowly dying in their cores, the waves of an ocean that embraces the World will always come to kiss the lands, and a forevermore song made somewhere deep in Nature’s soft throat. Even centuries after centuries had passed by, with a home in the lover’s soul, imprinted with billions of stories and poems and prayers in black to royal blue to sanguine, this time, this particular approach to the new year that entities on Earth call it 2020 feels somewhat and somehow different.
Different. It is a rare word for them to use now. In this incarnation, they had tried to search for something new that they, Child Soul, hadn’t experienced yet. Yet they thought everything still appeared the same to them. They had lived roughly and softly, died horribly and gently. They just existed, nothing more, nothing less than that. Since the discovery of their true identity, their optimism was distorted, stained in ancient tragedies and uncertain futures. In this incarnation, remaining in the final day of the year before 2020 will embrace everything and everyone, they almost gave up.
Almost. It is an ever familiar thing that made Child Soul them. It is a broken promise, a faded dream, an I love you left outspoken. Though this story with this almost have a meaning that is different to them. After pondering over a bit, with a glass of sparkling wine in their hand while the wind caress them to stay longer at the balcony of Wesley’s home that can be theirs too ( to hide themselves away from someone who deserves better than them ), they realize this feeling of difference at the 2020’s arrival comes from a fact that Wesley is with them not as the Wesley Thorburn but also Xenphire now.
Nothing is ever old about Xenphire, they believe. Always does he bring something more than what they expect through his darling smiles, the soft heartbeats, and words blessed with his wisdom and kindness. He makes their life beyond a definition of paradise. Into the new year, while going through this stage of trying to accept themselves with every parts of them they had left behind in their blood and bone dusts, he would make their life softer. He had already made it soft as only the Wesley Thorburn they knew of, but softer is what makes everything more beautiful.
But does he still want them to be a part of his life, knowing they were a both friend and a killer to him?
They think, and think, and a hand gently lands on their shoulder: It was Xenphire.
Like before, they have nothing to offer to them as they stare at him. They know that he knows self-discovery is usually one of the hardest parts of living in an endless cycle, so patience and understanding are what he can give them, even for an exchange of their silence. Words can not be found in their mind, their heart. Only white noises fill in them with their veins, everything in them hum in a song of chaos, and they want to scream. Damn their parents of the forces for making them feel so helpless and pathetic.
But Xenphire just waits like he have always waited for them, with every incarnations he knows them of, to come back to his life. Every single one of their pieces, both beautiful and horrible, both a bless and a curse. They open their mouth to speak, but fireworks cut them off as they appear in the sky, temporarily painting it in colours beyond whites and blacks before neon lights shower to the oblivion, the smallest parts of memories to those watching them come and go. They flinch and nearly drop their glass, but Xenphire manages to catch it along with them— their vulnerability.
And to think he will do it again and again with them, despite anything and everything, they break into his arms as he embraces them to keep themselves whole, like any other time: Only full of adoration and acceptance. Both them and Xenphire does not even notice the countdown to the new year of 2020. Fireworks and cheers mean nothing to them now. They truly have each other once more as they will make each other’s current life hold many more differences in 2020.
“I’m sorry,” they spoke tearfully, “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Xenphire spoke gently, “I will always forgive you.”
And that is all that matters to the immortals in the end.
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I AM AFRAID OF MYSELF AND SO ARE THE GODS
[div style="margin-top: -1px; margin-left: -5px; letter-spacing: 0px; font-size: 8pt; font-family: arial; color: #"][i][b]( lyn — xix — any pronouns — graphic designer — happily taken 09.20.19 )