[ It's not said snidely, or even meanly. Almost like stating a fact, except for the hint of humor that edges it in. Calmly, he meets her chaos with an unperturbed air, watches as she leaves fingerprints on the crisp edges of white, billowing curtains. All along the countertops. Teacups come crashing down on the tiled floors, scattering ceramic and fine china into little colorful bits.
In reality, it should be upsetting, but it isn't. Not here, where he's charged with the logical reordering of his own mind. He'll fix it, eventually. Maybe the cups will be a different color, different pattern. The curtains– maybe he'll keep the colorful handprints. He sort of likes how they stick out on the white.
The ceramic cups are neither here nor there and a breeze blows in, cool to the touch, refreshing. It mimics how he blows a gust of air along her neck, follows it with a kiss. There's flashes of warm sun filtering in through the window, too hot to stand in for long, but sinking into the skin all the same.
She's intangible and tangible like this. In their connection, he laughs as he lifts her and all her colors and sounds off her feet, twirling. Some of his icy edges drip, cool water puddling under them. ]
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[ It's not said snidely, or even meanly. Almost like stating a fact, except for the hint of humor that edges it in. Calmly, he meets her chaos with an unperturbed air, watches as she leaves fingerprints on the crisp edges of white, billowing curtains. All along the countertops. Teacups come crashing down on the tiled floors, scattering ceramic and fine china into little colorful bits.
In reality, it should be upsetting, but it isn't. Not here, where he's charged with the logical reordering of his own mind. He'll fix it, eventually. Maybe the cups will be a different color, different pattern. The curtains– maybe he'll keep the colorful handprints. He sort of likes how they stick out on the white.
The ceramic cups are neither here nor there and a breeze blows in, cool to the touch, refreshing. It mimics how he blows a gust of air along her neck, follows it with a kiss. There's flashes of warm sun filtering in through the window, too hot to stand in for long, but sinking into the skin all the same.
She's intangible and tangible like this. In their connection, he laughs as he lifts her and all her colors and sounds off her feet, twirling. Some of his icy edges drip, cool water puddling under them. ]