It’s as if someone had decided to grab a magical net and capture all that could be his sprightly urge to tumble, or his itching fingers that think of grabbing upon the rough bumps upon a ball or simply the energy to be outside - running, laughing under the golden sun and brilliant cerulean sky.
The cold had first seeped into the family through coughs by one of his older sisters and then transferred unto the other sibling. Finally it had grasped its dirty little hands upon the blond but for someone who exercises often he would have thought his immunity to have been able to wrestle away the little germ. He was wrong, oh so terribly wrong when he woke up shivering and face gone red that even Rudolph’s red nose would surely lose the battle.
You stay in bed. So he did, ice pack upon his forehead, sleep singing a hypnotic tune. Conscious drifts in and out like the fragile flutters of a butterfly wing. He remembers going downstairs briefly for the warm porridge left for him, tasteless but healthy. He remembers crawling up again and then his memories dip.
The sun shifts somewhere beyond, his guesses coming from when he sees through the cracks of his eyelids and the golden rays change colour. Now slowly fading to orange as the sun slowly waltzes away to be replaced by the cooling moon.
A ring of the doorbell snaps him back to consciousness. The aching of his muscles have faded though there is still a rather loud pounding upon his head, who could the visitor be? Not his parents nor his sisters for they all had their keys - or maybe one of them forget it. If it was a solicitor he surely hopes it would not take too long to cause them to disperse.
Neither assumptions were correct, while topaz eyes would surely twinkle at the sight of the girl before him - even that was a bit too exhausting for today. So instead he tries to place a smile, leaning against the door frame for support. "Hey? I wasn’t expecting…people. "
It was a picturesque moment in her book. The bittersweet reunion of friends. How long has it been since she’s seen the flaxen haired boy? Months, perhaps. But not a day goes by that she does not think of her dear friend: the “how are theys?”, “wonder how they’re doings” and the “do they miss me?s” all came and went through her conscience at odd intervals. And she would wave them away with a half-hearted promise of a visit in the near future. And now she was here upon her Kistune that has probably seen better days. With a critical eye, she takes mental notes to herself as she gives the outrageously tall boy a once over.
‘Slight sheen to the brow? Check. Flushed complexion? Check. Temperature?’—for this she balances herself on her toes such as she is prone to do so in dance and presses her cool hand to his forehead then under his jugular.
❛ Mon Dieu! You’re sick! ❜ Saori exclaims as if
it is the most obvious thing in the world.
Furrowing her brows, she distends her arm and gently slaps his forearm in a reprimanding matter before ushering him back inside. Whispering a customary ‘thank you for having me’ to an empty house, Saori removes her slippers and walks into the living room she had become familiar with growing up.
❛ Sorry for coming by on such a short notice, I
honestly wasn’t planning on visiting! But well—
the wind took me where it wanted! Who was I to
defy the will of nature? ❜ She says cheekily.
Curiously, she wanders around the house, poking her head into the kitchen and until finally coming back to the living room where she left Kise.
❛ Well, since you obviously suck at taking
care of yourself, I—as your dear and sweet-
est friend—shall take care of you! ❜
Crossing her arms, Saori stood in the middle of the living room deep in thought before a proverbial lightbulb lit up over her head.
❛ Are you hungry? I’m sure I can cook up
some soup for you! Go to your room, pop
in a movie and I’ll be up in a jiffy! ❜
blakekathryn
dededos
germansingergirl
origamiaround
stormborns
turnnoffyourmind
