12-06-2013, 04:06 PM
Reino had probably been sitting there on the floor like that for about an hour. It wasn't that he couldn't get up, no, he just didn't want to get up. What was the point of getting up? He was at the lowest point in his life, literally. He had once been offered so much and he crumbled that dream as if it were a coffee cake. Flopping over onto his side, he stared at the blinds that kept his neighbor from seeing him in this desolate state. Shadow didn't deserve to see such sorrow. She had experienced that pain once in her life. It was that pain that caused her to murder, forever tainting her Threat Level to a murderous color. Still, a part of him wanted her to see it. After all, it was the most remorse he could fell and, if she could see his agony, she might understand the pain he had for her from another event. His mother's death was the pinnacle of his pain, but other events also scarred him dearly. Events that would even have Shadow draw back in fear, angst, and hate. She needed to see his face to fully grasp the truth about a night he wished he had declined. Truth be told though, he would never tell her what really transpired that night. It would kill him.
With the blink of an eye, the shades vanished. The room was still dimly lit, but it was bright enough so Shadow could make out everything. He laid there motionless on the floor. His golden eyes looked over into her cell to catch her haphazardly brushing her lovely, silk-like hair. Mesmerized by the motion, Reino didn't even notice that he was legitimately staring at her at this point. Had he been caught in this much longer, he would have started drooling. Frankly, he didn't mind. In that trans-like state, he found himself playing over that other incident. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. She was so graceful, so mysterious, and so elegant. Passion was in her every step and her skills were exquisite. She stole his heart, figuratively. If only she had known. Had she, she might have run off with him instead of that other man. Oh how he wished things could have played out differently! As his mind came to the jarring end, it made him wince, which brought him back to his wits. And just in time, too! Snapping into a standing position, he shoved his hands in his pockets before sauntering over to his board. She caught him staring, he knew that. But what she missed was the faint pink hue that came to his cheekbones, as he turned away quickly. The cool room also helped.
Reino assumed she wanted to talk. Since they became neighbors, she would occasionally try to communicate with him. Perhaps he would engage her tonight. It might ease his troubled mind and make him think of something other than his deceased mother. With that in mind, he grabbed the nearest Expo marker and wrote out a message for her.
"Sorry about the late-evening fiasco" the board read. Erasing it, he wrote her a new line to read. "Memories have a funny way of making even the strongest of men weep." Again, his elbow cleaned off the board. "Guess, mom was right. I am just a big cry baby." The way her wrote mom was very elegantly, much neater and cleaner than the rest of his script. Still, his handwriting was rather crisp and legible for a man. It was in all uppercase, but it had a calligraphy-inspired flow to it. It wasn't the traditional engineering writing one would expect from a man. Hell, compared to some of the women, his writing probably looked cleaner than their own!
Moving toward the front of his cell, he went to place his hand on the golden glass. Reino asked for gold glass as it was his favorite color. Everyone else had their own unique colors, too. When his hand was planted firmly on the glass pane, the color changed from gold to nearly white. The heat from his hands interacted with the glass, but it would never let them escape. These walls flexed, and on purpose too. The previous glass left too many inmates with bloodied hands. Opting for a flexible glass-like barrier, the criminals could now throw punches without destroying their hands.
With his hand on the pane, he looked tauntingly out at Shadow. There was something in his eyes that said he wanted to feel the warm touch of another. An embrace. He wanted it to wisp away all his sorrow. Oh how he longed for someone to love him like his mother did. Someone to be kind and sweet. Someone who would ask him daily, "Deary, how did your day go?" Someone who wouldn't leave him in the cruel world... like she did.
Fighting to ask the right question to her, he finally landed on one. It was the question he had wanted to ask her th most. Mouthing to her, he asked, "What is it like to be in love?"
|