Kisses Meme; Send a word for my muse to react to!
Sunshower: It’s been a long day–and all your muse wants to do is lay around with mine and reconnect with kisses and contact.
the moment she pushed the door to his room aside with much vigor, the moment she realized that there was no use for such proper behavior. her yukata was streaked with mud. her hair was unkempt and her frame shook, soaked in the spring’s downpour. a child of misfortune, she had come back from the cherry blossom viewing with shattered pride and growing humiliation. mameha had deemed her practically worthless. and to hear that coming from the woman who had invested countless hours into sayuri, it fueled her new found rage and growing desperation.
she didn’t kneel nor did she walk on her knees. she stood, and took heavy steps toward he. graceless, like a horse learning to walk, everything she had learned was put behind her. sayuri’s head hung low and her hands played with the edges of her dress. when she nearly collided with he did she stop in her tracks. even then, she was still moving. her hands went to grab at his shirt, fingers gripped at the fabric and she bunched it into her fists. her anger had consumed her and she spoke unintelligibly, a mix between her native tongue and the one she used to speak with her patrons. right now, as she gripped his shirt for dear life, sayuri forgot all formalities and clung to he like a child holding their mother. tears threatened to spill and she held herself together for as long as she could. but that facade only lasted seconds; a loud cry was given and she collapsed to the ground, pulling him down with her. he caught her as she fell, his arms coming to wrap around her, supporting her up.
her hands released the fisted shirt. the palms of her hands rested themselves against his chest and she pushed. she pushed out of frustration. she pushed him, as if trying to push her frustrations externally onto he. no matter how hard she tried to push him away, he held her close. if this were under normal circumstances, she’d have reacted in a different manner. but instead, sayuri accepted the embrace and tucked her head under his chin. sobs escaped her, tears stained his shirt as she rested her head against his chest. she could feel his fingers idly untangling her unkempt hair. every tug she felt pull at her scalp and every breath he took felt at the top of her head. her wet yukata clung cold against her body and she shivered even more. she felt his arms tighten around her frame. whispers were spoken, able to make coherent sentences now that she was steadied.
“i’m tired. i want to sleep,,” came her quiet plea. “i’m ruined, everything that’s i’ve done, all in vain.” pity was not something the child asked for, rather she wanted someone to hear her cries. someone to sympathize with. a companion of sorts to provide her with comfort. and such comfort, for some apparent reason, she sought after in the arms of he. her palm resting on her chest, her fingers traced patterns and made herself more comfortable within his hold.
a moment like this was rare to come by. and to see a flower wither and wilt into itself was something many would avoid, only wishing to witness it bloom in full and enjoy it’s lively and vibrant colors before it all passed.