a rotting corpse with a heart never meant to beat again becomes a rare masterpiece whilst turned into a statue crafted from marble ; a child that inhaled poison, a child that inhaled finity, an epilogue glittering in the eyes of an infant doomed to die whilst unsure of its own name. chocola carnival. manon canarie. chocolacarnival manoncanarie. chocmanlacaroncannivarieal. what is and should have never been dances in a wicked union, separate universes collapsing against each other and crushing the soul of a dove that rested elegantly on the bottom of its golden cage. an existence of no meaning. a life bound to end in silence and concealed anguish. a forgotten persona, a primadonna that was not. marching down the street, she failed to realise who is dead ; her, or the indifferent crowd that passes by. in the end, you cannot overcome reality, the letters scribbled upon the gravestone mock the story with a deriding joy. a cursed princess that came to dwell amongst roses with thorns reaching the helpless heart. that is the tale written by the providence, the words history cannot deceive. until he stepped into her life.
searching for warmth that so many times failed to become love, the flickering hope cried at the grazing touch of the icy claws that came with destiny, wrapping around the throat and SQUEEZING ; but the sight of his face became a soothing breath in her chest again, the forbidden air that filled the lungs once more and pushed the threat away with the ocean hiding in his gaze, the kindness of his smile. never, not even once, did james ironwood treat her like other men did ; he did not come to her trailer that day to use her, to cherish her and forget her with the morning’s ascension, but to offer something manon has not known the taste of. a date. the skeptical mind did not let hope spark from an awoken promise yet, but the walls of her world began shattering under the pressure of his presence ; a man so fine, so loved, so respected, but not ashamed to gift her his company. adored by women, inspiring men. he extended a hand towards her and manon grasped it alike a child blinded by the sight of the prince that defeated the world to save her – and love came with many thunders of regret, and love came with many tears of despise. you promised yourself you would never get hurt, and that was what the awoken beating of her heart meant. pain. disappointment. the victory of reality. but he never disappeared.
with time, manon understood the thorns in her soul come from the fear of losing him rather than losing herself. a headmaster & a general of atlas, a primadonna eternally on the way, a tale of no beginning and no end. the breathing returned to a corpse meant to turn into ashes, and that breathing was HIM. the man that arrived just in time to save a maiden drowning in the void. the pure essence of her happiness. the only reason of her true smile, saved solely for his gaze. the good morning and the good evening so impatiently awaited. the keeper of her secrets. the peace of the mind. nightmares no longer hunting the mind once the warmth of his body could be felt close. how come you have fallen so tragically, little bird? how come you have broken your oath never to taste the bitterness of love that, alike all things, will come to die? the marble turns into flesh again. the sculpture into a human. an organ pulsating with life and love offered to him with each word, each sweet whisper, each delicate touch. for the eternity that belongs to the gods and for the temporary existence that belongs to a man, she will belong to him.
& as she rests upon his chest now, upon his whole body, warmed by the metal parts that complete the genral, there is no thought other than the boldest desire that inhabits the mind. ah, in that blissful shine of the early morning that surrounds them despite thick courtains embracing windows, clad in naught but skin and sweat past the morning ritual, manon cannot resist anymore. she knows. she comprehends. the words lingering upon the tongue are a betrayal to her youthful beliefs, as much as a fearsome promise of a future. her hands linger below the chin, once in a while tapping or toying with james’ skin that remains in the slothful reach, and the eyes never turn to meet his. no. something in her trembles at the potential refusal, at the uncertainty that follows the wish. something in her breaks at the realisation it might as well become an ending to a magnificent chapter, the breath so heavy, so terrified. and yet - that is the right thing to do. that is the only thing to do. now or never. end me now, god, if that is what you have in store. let me suffer no more. with her gaze fixed upon a blank spot on the opposite wall, the words come as a shadow of a non-existent courage, as but a whisper,
‘ —————–marry me, james. ‘
he has given himself a breadth and taken a MILE. the world of this morning has come to include the bed he and his love remain in, the sunlight streaming through the windows, and their own entangled bodies. he is a man of DUTY of PRESENCE and he has overstepped boundaries he once thought to be placed perfectly in sync with his own beliefs. he knows the woman the rests against his chest like he knows the back of his had. she is lovely, lovelier than any version of himself could ever comprehend. too lovely for me. james thinks, a solemn breath escaping from his nose. too lovely for someone so BROKEN, his metal half is warm, so close to being flesh and yet she rests against it as if he was WHOLE. as if he was not a broken man, a monster, a machine.
he has never GIVEN IN to emotions. maybe once, long ago, he has ALLOWED himself the small reprieve of small talk and one-night stands but in his growing age he had learned so much-- and GAINED so little. love was a foreign concept. love was lost to the gentlemen who hid behind his pride. a general and a headmaster could not love, he had told himself, he was too BUSY too FRANTIC. he had a duty to the people of atlas, to the world. manon canarie seemed, in all honesty, powerful enough to RIP that mantra away from him. steal it and hide it away, bring him to the light and show him that love was no foreign object. only a warning sign that the heart was learning faster than the mind.
FOR ONCE-- he finds himself to be adamantly okay with his heart speaking first.
the forefront of his mind has always been WAR, death, fighting. even with peace seemingly everlasting, there must be something ( or SOMEONE ) working behind the scenes to uphold it. peace came with a price, that was a fact that no one could change. sacrifice and bloodshed were the most common, it seemed. SACRIFICE, specifically, hits the general with intense force. a wave of regret and of sorrow stares him down. he is in an OCEAN of the unknown, paddling along as if the world was no more. he would have given up his life that fateful day, but instead he realized that the gods ( whoever they may be, whatever names they might go by ) had only wanted to show him. to tease him with the sweet embrace of death. he had felt it that day, the darkness that swallows all. the inevitable that faced them in the end. he had WANTED IT. he had wanted the pain gone, to earn the praise of a hero’s sacrifice. he had begged for it. maybe he had prayed-- he cannot remember now. but everything was a MAYBE then. maybe he had done this to himself. maybe he would die. maybe he would get to remain in the army.
MAYBE. MAYBE. MAYBE.
he was TIRED of maybe. he wanted exacts he wanted the world in his palm and, and at this very moment-- his WORLD was manon canarie.
his still-flesh palm begins DRIPPING sweat. that has never happened before. he thinks with a GRIN. it is wolfish and proud and he cannot HELP himself. everything about he is ENTICING and ENCHANTING and he THRIVES on it. everything about her is soft and sweet and KIND. he loves her. every inch every line every word. she has changed him for the better and he LOVES her because of it. he is a WOLF and the hunt for her is never ending. even the post-sex haze he has found that the BEAST inside of him is hungry. it claws at his mind and at his heart and at his SKIN.
‘ i love you, manon canarie. ‘ he says firstly, plainly. for once he is OPEN. he wants to remind her of that every day of his life. he wants to spend every MOMENT with her, just so he can remind her how much his love for her has grown. how much it has FLOURISHED into something he’d never thought imaginable. his heart, his HUMAN HEART, flutters, palpitates. his body wants to shut down all over his love for her.
‘ and i would rather do NOTHING else. ‘
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