[color=#6679bf]A mi[color=#5265a9]llion d[color=#445890]reams are keepi[color=#3b497c]ng me awake —
Visiting the library became pure habit for the wildcat.  When he did not feel the drive to wander through the swamp or forest, he sat among the old shelves and tomes.  He sat, and read often, as well as thought back to a pair of mesmerizing eyes.  Two seasons in one pair of eyes.

While Torren knew the time was late, the youth knew he saw the splash of white step into the library.  A constant occurrence of spotting her at night, or insisting to stargaze or read, rather than sleep, told him more than anything his friend suffered an unfortunate aliment.  He felt the drive to ask, to wonder, if she'd suffered both before and after her imprisonment with the Pitt or only after, but he hated the thought of bringing an unhappy time up.

Instead, he offered to take her stargazing on the clear nights, unbothered by the loss of sleep if he saw her smile.  Whether or not she only saw a friend spending time with her, or trying to take care of her, he failed to know.  Regardless, he treasured the time spent together, never afraid to offer more of his time when she needed it.

Torren felt as though he were sinking, or perhaps falling.  Walking on ice he thought was stable only for it to crack beneath his paws.  He knew friends didn't get transfixed by their friend's eyes.  He knew friends didn't catch their breath when the starlight caught their friend's snow white fur, illuminating in an angelic affect.  He knew it all, but he loved their friendship dearly.  The youth could only think to regain his balance and continue on -- he wouldn't know how to tell her in the first place.

In a strange act of blankness, his mind could never formulate the proper words.

Despite the dizzying whirlwind of new emotions and confusion, Torren sought his friend, despite the late hour, with a gift.  His kingdom lacked Christmas in name, but the practice of sharing gifts during the winter season reigned strong.  To him, the act seemed to make the cold months warmer.

He sat close to an old bookshelf, studying the few legible titles near him.  Carefully, the feline slid off a necklace, letting it fall into an open paw.  A simple silver necklace, with the north star, like a compass, sitting as a simple, silver pendant.

Torren smiled softly, before gently clearing his throat.  "Hey, Kiira," he called out quietly.  Alone in the library, he knew she'd hear him.

[member=2344]suvi k.[/member]
[align=right]Forelsket. (n.)

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[color=#6679bf]A mi[color=#5265a9]llion d[color=#445890]reams are keepi[color=#3b497c]ng me awake —
Softly, the wildcat's breath escaped his maw.  Eyes warm as they caught their friend's gaze, falling prey to the colors of her eyes again.  He could sit and count the shades of the seasons for days.  Again, a thought that belonged in the mind of someone more than a friend.  The youth straightened his shoulders and sought for the correct words, glancing at the pendant necklace in his paws.

"In the winter, it is custom to give gifts to your loved ones," he began quietly, feeling his face flush beneath his fur.  Too formal, Torren.  "Since you love the stars, I thought of my necklace." His eyes grew warm again, tracing the pattern of the pendant.  "My family made it for me before I left.  It's a reminder that you can always find guidance from the stars, no matter where you are."

"And I want you to have it." For a million and one reasons, he thought.  For the way her eyes glowed under starlight, and the way her soft voice grew excited and passionate about the sky.  For the nights they spent awake together, and the ones they did not.

More shyly, he asked, "may I?" Given acceptance, Torren would lift the necklace carefully with his teeth and gently slide it over her head, to let the pendant fall onto her chest.
[align=right]Alexithymia. (n.)

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