The White Feather

Drowning

LÉON'S POV:
It feels peculiar. The thin air, the light wind, the tensed atmosphere, the human self. It is as if everyone has already heard of my rush to Noan and will do everything in their power to ruthlessly prevent me from reaching for him.

"Am I not having enough burdens on my shoulders?" I massage myself, trying to contribute my muscles a relaxation while my eyes are attentive on the rowdy outside "So for what all this fucking people crossing in front of the carriage causing me to fall behind and a time loss?" My voice starts to raise up, sounding annoyed from the fullness of the streets. Ages ago it was, since I was the last time here, bulling myself through the streets. But never ever I meet such a sight. A sight which is redundant with little human beings from all kind of sorts.

"Marco, you're my witness, since when is this city filled to brimming with so much souls and pheromones?"
I pause, sorting my thoughts out  "Do you think he is testing me again? Tch he shouldn't be though. I can't pledge that I'll keep my patience this time, if I lose one more thing. Because if I do, I'll make sure to send him to hell, the creation of his. I'll just-"

My oxygen vanishes from one second to the next as I restrain all the venomous words back that are anchored in me. However, I do not have the opportunity to continue with my valid flak. Marco unexpectedly stops the carriage with full force and tries to bring it to a standstill. Everything happens so swift. I don't even come along nor I am able to find a hold on something, ending up nearby striking my forehead. While the horses are doing anything to avoid the crash to a little child who threw himself in front of us, I am concerned about myself and struggling in that little space. My selfishness crawls out of the woodwork. At the same time a child's voice is cracking and the surroundings attention is drawing on us without a hitch. This is what I was talking about. God isn't on my side today and not enough he's throwing a lot of burdens on me as a sop to his conscience.
He's blessing me in his own way.

The front is completely jammed by some pseudo citizens whose furious eyes are drilling in Marco's small charism.
"Get them out our way kid. You know we're in a hurry. I can't stand Diego when he's piecing me with his nagging." He turns his helpless acute glance to me, shrugging with his shoulders. "Hah...Seriously just drive." I mumble a bit murky, being cognizant of my words that are downright ridiculous and don't make any sense.

"I see. Another distinguished gentleman we have here who tries to escape his sins."

A unique voice is charging the insides of mine, tickling leisurely my subnarcotic eardrums. A woman's voice. All soothing but at the same time imitating, alerting me to be cautious. It is strolling around my head and melts with the vicinity together.

"Sadly they call oneself one but we ladies never got to experience it."

Some of the audience's chuckling breezes across my ears which causes me an uncomfortable shudder. Trying to glean what this sitch is, I search with my ears this insulting melody. Never someone allowed themselves to talk to me in that disrespectful way. So to whom is this voice belonging to, daring to make me look like a fool?

„You really impress the girls here, Sir. Oh sorry my bad, I meant more...how should I say, sicken them, you know?"
A light soft laugh.

"Shush. I'm not a good man, dear. I'm no hero. No knight in shining armour. I also own a so called endurance. So-"

They say that the sun on a brunetteʼs hair looks red while the sun on a redheadʼs hair looks like Heaven on Earth. A Heaven fulfilling its duties and uniqueness. So there it is. The Heaven on Earth of everyone's. A redness of a vulpines whose light skin being a softness and a strong wild mane of a lions, I get to see with that bare eyes of mine. Waves which are flowing towards the ground and spreading all over her shoulders along her breasts.
A sight of remembrance but unfortunately for only a little moment.