03.01.05

three times jumping and once

The cold made her sweat and today�s warmth, it was fine, it rested lightly on her skin. It was unexpected. The weeks had gone by with nothing like this, and in the artificial cold, you couldn�t tell one way or the other what the temperature was going to be like. She had begun to forget what it was to see the weather and remembered the sky only as a faint light in the morning and scattered stars at night. At either time, the sunless sky would rush at her with its winds and she would shiver, more for the idea of cold than its actuality.
Today though, it was suddenly warm. That would mean rain would come soon, that would mean after that stiff fresh days with dry air and stringy clouds on the horizon. With the rain came the wind that whipped her face and crawled its way into her ear and stayed there, popping it only slightly uncomfortably. More uncomfortable were the raindrops running so quickly into her face, like small daggers, so that she had to move.
She moved to warm shelter, smelling of roasted peanuts and feeling of piled textbooks in the way that cafeterias are wont to do.
That day, she was wondering over something. In class, they did not notice that she was particularly quiet or how she, every now and again, scribbled into small pieces of paper with her sharp nibs. She was not the one there with the most grace or with the most brilliance, so she could manage with what she gleaned of the class every now and again. She turned things over and examined them.
His letter had lulled her. She realised first that the formality had been done away with, and was happy, but then she could feel in each word the sound of his voice scratching in the background. She remembered it again, abrasive and slightly awkward. She felt it again scrubbing away the layers that had formed. She was pink and sparkling. He was telling her to read his poetry, that it was new and she should see it. She couldn�t.
Now, so freshly scrubbed like this and he always so naked with his eyes that were probably black but that she could only remember as shining lights, now it would seem indecent.
She grew afraid.

shi-ou-sama at 8:57 p.m.

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