Broken Hearts (Tiz/Charlotte, C)
Jun 5, 2015 12:55:09 GMT -6
Post by Tiz on Jun 5, 2015 12:55:09 GMT -6
The ghost of the kiss he had never gotten really shook the young man. He was confused, hurt, and dying for answers. He was afraid that the answers he sought, the ones that at one time had seemed so close, were now forever lost, gone with the wind as the woman turned and left him-- potentially for good. At first, Tiz was sorrowful. Arms still folded as Myscha shut the door, he looked off to the side and out the window, the sun now making its way up into the sky, signifying a happy day that Tiz would very likely get to take no part in. He turned and faced out the window, opening it, and rested his arms in the sill. He looked across the cityscape of Laus, things seeming to have returned to normal. He wondered very fondly if he would ever see the woman again, and, if he did, what it would mean for them-- where they would stand. He wondered intently what their time had meant to her... But admitted that there was a chance he might never know.
He rested his chin in the palm on his hand, still holding himself against the breeze coming in through the window. She really was gone. So quick, so brief, so passionate, and so fleeting. Tiz cursed himself silently for being so overly in tune with his emotions. Perhaps it was his nature to magnify things that weren't significant enough to hold their own place in his heart... he wondered if that was the case. If these moments seemed so intense and so passionate only because he made them that way. With a frown, he looked down towards the ground. He was completely lost.
Letting himself think fondly about Myscha for a few moments, Tiz chuckled to himself, completely alone. Maybe not, he mused. Maybe it wasn't the end. She had left with the same fake smile and attitude he had put on-- she was in no better place, he was sure. There was too much conflict, too much tension, too many mysteries for it to end there. He lifted himself out of the sill, folding his arms again, with a small smile drawn across his face. He wondered which of these streets Myscha had traveled on her way to wherever she was headed next. This was the most strange he had ever felt about a romantic encounter. He was truly interested in her, but wasn't sure where they stood, or where the feelings he felt had been born from. Were they real, or had he imagined them? He assumed he would have to wait until he saw her again to make that determination.
And somehow, the young man knew he would see her again. The electricity running through his heart told him that there was no way fate would separate them. He would find her again-- whatever it took, wherever he must go, he would find this woman again, and he would have his answers. And if no answers, he would have one last kiss, the one she had stolen from him in her attempt to make this goodbye less difficult. With another chuckle, the first authentic one in hours, Tiz turned, and began getting dressed for the day.
[END]
He rested his chin in the palm on his hand, still holding himself against the breeze coming in through the window. She really was gone. So quick, so brief, so passionate, and so fleeting. Tiz cursed himself silently for being so overly in tune with his emotions. Perhaps it was his nature to magnify things that weren't significant enough to hold their own place in his heart... he wondered if that was the case. If these moments seemed so intense and so passionate only because he made them that way. With a frown, he looked down towards the ground. He was completely lost.
Letting himself think fondly about Myscha for a few moments, Tiz chuckled to himself, completely alone. Maybe not, he mused. Maybe it wasn't the end. She had left with the same fake smile and attitude he had put on-- she was in no better place, he was sure. There was too much conflict, too much tension, too many mysteries for it to end there. He lifted himself out of the sill, folding his arms again, with a small smile drawn across his face. He wondered which of these streets Myscha had traveled on her way to wherever she was headed next. This was the most strange he had ever felt about a romantic encounter. He was truly interested in her, but wasn't sure where they stood, or where the feelings he felt had been born from. Were they real, or had he imagined them? He assumed he would have to wait until he saw her again to make that determination.
And somehow, the young man knew he would see her again. The electricity running through his heart told him that there was no way fate would separate them. He would find her again-- whatever it took, wherever he must go, he would find this woman again, and he would have his answers. And if no answers, he would have one last kiss, the one she had stolen from him in her attempt to make this goodbye less difficult. With another chuckle, the first authentic one in hours, Tiz turned, and began getting dressed for the day.
[END]