He climbs the rough bricks of the towering bridge scaling his way to the top, fingers leaving marks of dark crimson upon the jagged architecture. With red fingers his feet dance methodically, balancing against the wind and adjusting themselves up right so he may stand and face the world.
As much as you think that what you see around you is the world, with new eyes what you truly see is that of your world, the mere distance capable of being captured by the human eye. So grand but so minuscule on a scale of perspective.
Lighting blue eyes surrounded by a silver cloud ring, every shade of blue, white, and grey possible coursing through themselves. These eyes define strong and powerful, capable of setting everything they focus into flame, the power sending electricity coursing through the running veins of the water below. With power unmeasurable amounts of beauty shines from the pair, enough to make the universe swoon. So, he thoughtfully watches the world, threatening to set everything he sees, on fire.
Power, electricity, and flames run through the city he watches.
Two soft coral pink lips, a complete contrast to the violent blue of his eyes, release heavy laboured breaths but quickly regain themselves composure. Gentle and calm his mouth creates a smooth line effectively settling down. The silence ends as quickly as it began when a screaming smile collides with his lighting eyes, caring and carefree. Without saying anything at all, the screaming ends and is replaced with a warm inviting grin, promising to share many things.
Electric eyes filled with power and smiling lips with the ability to speak soundlessly.
This boy is a force for the world to reckon with, a sense of inner power and an unbreakable smile armour him as he now moves to sit over the cold concrete of the bridge. The festive colours offered by the sun now long gone and replaced with an almost blank sky.
The city lights gleam and as time ticks by finally the beautiful boy decides to take his electric eyes and gentle smile back home.
Crimson once again leaves his fingers, staining the grey brick upon his descend. Somehow the air at the bottom washes over his senses differently than the elevated breeze had but in seconds his quick feet adjust and he continues to make his way home. Spreading gentle power and electric warmth.
AN: Written by me
