A rose to grind

-10-

Could death be avoided?

I gazed solemnly out the window. The ambience drowned in raucous silence, pretty ironic considering their contradictions. However at some point as I stared keenly into the distance, I had somewhat hoped for the wind to dramatically brush my hair back but unfortunately, it was too busy frolicking around with the yellow, fallen leaves that nonetheless seemed to be more upset than I was.

"Can I delay death?" I whispered to the sky, wishing some sort of reply in any form, gas, solid or liquid, be it. I just wanted some salvation or escape, or perhaps a hand to place on my shoulder. Warmth.

I grimaced imperceptibly, hooking my lips into a saturnine smile. Rubbing my face, I screamed into the calloused metacarpus. The lamenting only came out muffled noises analogous to a housewife's wailing for a long gone husband. Me? A housewife? How laughable. This gangster, over-grown body of mine to be compared with a mere housewife? That made me feel sick to my stomach at the slightest thought of it. It created a funny scene that made me inclined to bash my head into the nearest wall.

I peered over the distant land, then the distance between the obscure ground and the me who stood on the balcony. When I took the inclination to jump, I didn't receive any regrets, rather, surprisingly, I felt relieved. I wondered why. When the usual nonchalant wind brushed lovingly against my cheek, when it crawled up my clothes and slipped into my the opening of my flapping suit, it felt nice. The coolness gradually pressing against my warm skin. I wondered then, why didn't death bother me?

My death wasn't a suicide. That much I knew from the little fragments I could grasp onto as Seanel. If it wasn't by my own accord...was it an assassination? Though impossibly possible, it was the only thing I could think of. My head throbbed dangerously, causing me to lean over the railings. Just then, a voice mellifluously flowed from my left side.

"Oh dear, you're still so young. It's such a shame if you lose it over one irrational choice, right?" The voice was charming, infuriatingly enchanting with a sensual masculine charm to it. It was soothing that I whipped my head into its direction, desperately hoping for some sort of accommodation. It had to be him, my salvation. A pair of feline, green eyes pierced through my being like lase beams. I sucked in a sharp, quick breath and clutched onto the railings as if my life were on the life.

"It's you," my shoulders tensed up at once upon his abrupt appearance. "The perverted masked man from the party."

"Oh?" His smirk grew even wider with a twinge of cockiness, and if I stared closely enough, I could spot a hint of relief. Odd. "I am honored that the great young master of the Karrina Manor remembers my humble self."

"I could never forget you, even if I tried," I mumbled, my arm elongating into a long arm and reaching for the man's white mask embellished with sangria-colored lace, the color of sin at its crevices. I had a feeling that it resembled its owner, pure on the outside yet deceitful and disgustingly disingenuous on the inside. A two-faced man who hid behind a farce of a gorgeous, smiling face. I traced the mask's tip. Curiosity got the best of me, lulling me to take the mask off and reveal the man ; my chest stuffed with nothing. "Your eyes. They're beautiful. It's as if they're engraved into my very mind. I don't...know why."

"Are they really?" The man whispered, clambering gingerly onto my hand. His own hand felt cool, like he was wind per se. A formidable, reckoning force that no matter the havoc it ought to bring, if that meant he would be by my side, I'd walk forward without any regards for my safety. "You said the same thing once when we first met." He snuggled into my palm, the tendrils that fell over his nose tickled the rough skin. We happened to make eye-contact through the gaps of my fingers. For the second time, my breath hitched. I felt my throat slowly clog up. This soul-sucking feeling, I had a foreboding sense of danger. I tried wrenching my hand but his grip around my wrist was so tight, so determined for a moment I felt as though this cool person in front of me wasn't human. He was like a supernatural being. But how come? This world wasn't set in a fantasy world ; it was supposed to be a silly romance novel to pass time.