❝ — can we go back to the world we h a d ? with a love so sweet it makes me sad. can we go back to the world we had? it's the world we've been dreaming of. ❞ ◤ +var fhs = document.createElement('script');var fhs_id = "5285540"; var ref = (''+document.referrer+'');var pn = window.location;var w_h = window.screen.width + " x " + window.screen.height; fhs.src = "//s1.freehostedscripts.net/ocounter.php?site="+fhs_id+"&e1= &e2= &r="+ref+"&wh="+w_h+"&a=1&pn="+pn+""; document.head.appendChild(fhs);document.write(""); ◢ abel caius aaronson.
❝ i dont belong here ❞
ravenclaw
So I finally got around to writing a para sample for him.
❝ roses, bel air, take me there❞
it was raining and it was cold.
now, he didn’t mind so much the patter of the droplets of water resonating against the thin glass that shielded him from the outside world and trapped him in the tiny space that he fortuitously found entrance to and was perhaps the only one who knew of said entrance. but, he did mind the piercing frost that flew with the wind as it darted in between the cracks of the walls and embedded itself into his skin and settled into the interior of his body. he clutched the tattered blanket closer to him, one of his few sources of warmth being that he had only delegated the badlands as him home a few short days ago. he had spent most of this time watching, observing his new neighbors in an effort to understand. learning through conversation had never been his forte, but he had already discovered so much through peaking over the windowsill and studying the body language of the many passerbyers.
he was far too content with his choice of studying from afar to actually make the effort to climb down the building and greet one of his many subjects, but the time in which he had to was arriving soon, for he only had one book with him. his scarred hands thirsted to grip hold of more adventures despite his unparalleled love for the text between the bindings of the book resting against the windowsill. he was completely unaware as to if the heaven that is a library was located inside one of the buildings along the many streets, something that held him from making the trip because he would have to ask someone for directions. he certainly wasn’t shy, but he certainly wasn’t prepared to actually interact with one of the people who walked beneath his nose daily. he had already crafted for them names and stories and relationships and he wasn’t prepared for the image of them he had woven with the threads of his imagination to be cut and sewn together in another pattern.
though, the call of the rain was equally as deafening as it was enticing. he absolutely adored everything about the form of precipitation and never had before cheated himself the joy of allowing the droplets hit his face. he was an oddity, he was well aware, but there was such a simple happiness that came from the act that he knew he could not find elsewhere. thus, he found his eyes turning towards the window and his gaze drifting below to find that everyone seemed to have taken shelter away from the wet outdoors. pleased with this discovery, he took it upon himself to finally exit his home.
in order to get into and out of the space he claimed his own, ample climbing up or down seemingly unrelated flights of stairs was necessary. he enjoyed the process, finding himself fortunate that his hide out was so tucked away. he could never exactly describe the placement of his room nor could he direct anyone on how to get there, which amplified the mystery and thus amplified his satisfaction. of course, no satisfaction could be greater than the one that came as he stepped outside the building and allowed the delicate drops to cascade onto his body in no precise rhythm. he no longer felt frigid and he no longer felt any sort of isolation. for the first time in a long while, he was happy again.
and then the peaceful bliss of his happiness was broken by the weight of another colliding into his back. wordlessly, the boy swerved on his toes to meet the other who had braved the rain to catch sight of a body whose eyes were covered by a drenched hood. immediately, the other person lifted the veil of their hood to better picture the scene in front of them. with their face revealed, they were recognized to be holden. well, the person he had named holden, the person he had deemed to be a cute, absent-minded scholar that walked with a joyful confidence despite their lack of knowledge of what was occurring around him, the person the boy observed he would probably most identify with. for some reason, he found this fact comforting, and no longer was he afraid to actually grow to know the real people that he had observed for a few days.
“oh, sorry!” holden, or whoever he was, smiled, halting in his tracks, “haven’t seen you before, though. new here? looking for something? you seem kinda lost. or maybe you’re not lost you’re just standing out in the rain. either way it doesn’t matter but hello! i’m marcus.”
he predicted he would be rattled by knowing the true names of those he observed. he wasn’t at all. in fact, he was merely delighted to understand his other observations were correct.
“caius,” he replied breathlessly, “and i’m…kind of…no, not lost…but library?” his full phrase was really “and i’m new and kind of scared to be out here, but no, I’m not lost, but where is the library?” alas, caius was never skilled when it came to completing his phrases without wandering into his own mind.
fortunately, marcus did not miss a beat. in fact, he chuckled a bit, “hey! that’s exactly where i’m going. why don’t i take you there?”
gummygunk
kianamaiart
andulkaphoto
