055 | winter's angst

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trigger warning

those of you on your period,
and i'm talking to a certain person,
please read this later :)

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

some eyes touch a person
more than hands ever could

some eyes touch a person more than hands ever could

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IT WAS WINTER NOW. The snow fell, dancing in the light, a choreographed ballet conducted by the gentle wind, covering the land with pure water made all the more beautiful in crystalline form. With the snow came the rain, darkened grey smudges of wool threateningly surrounding the sky, like a predator would encircle its prey.

A startling low rumble rang loud in the chilly winter air, the sky roaring with satisfaction. Trickles of liquid hit the ground with as much force as a small child. Hungrily, drizzles turned into canon fires, barricading everything in its way. A sense of cleanliness caressed the atmosphere, washing away all impurities.

Yet it did nothing to wash the impurities of the mind.

A hollow melody rang throughout an empty house, slender fingers pressing against black and ivory keys, moving diligently. Thoughts rushed through the head of the melody's creator, emotions flooding through her body, seeping out of her pores and pouring into her music.

Sorrow ran through her body.

Visions of her mother surfaced like the waves on a shore, and Mizuki stepped inside the vast ocean, reaching forward to grasp them. Yet with every step she took, the memories swayed away, floating out of her reach.

No! Please, no!

Her melody shifted, her fingers applying more force on the keys, a forceful song drifting through the house, notes filled with agony and pain the more time progressed forward.

No! Don't leave me!

Please.

Please don't leave me.

Not again.

Faded memories flooded her sight, and she couldn't take it. The tears began to flood as the rain continued to pound against the window. The piano keys flooded the room, but her screams drowned them out. Her skin stung from the cold and the thoughts in her head. So she screamed again. Her nostrils were filled with the vanishing scent of lavender and disinfectant. So she screamed again. Her eyes burned with built-up tears. So she screamed again. She screamed and screamed as she played. She screamed until her throat ached, and her voice went hoarse.

But no sound left her lips.

All Mizuki ever wanted was to forget the pain of her past, to remove the haunting numbness that lingered over her shoulders, the unpleasant memories that engulfed her brain into a turmoil of negativity.

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