11-11-2018, 07:23 AM
[align=center][div style="max-width: 420px; line-height:120%; font-family: arial; font-size: 8.5pt; text-align: justify; margin-bottom:5px"]Funny is it the way certain individuals find those small spaces between walls, broke through mortar that had crumbled between each brick once thought carefully placed until the heart was locked away where none may find it. More so may it be when once more walls are constructed until the old proves no longer necessary, greater the construct to be sure nothing may break through, the feelings of affection pushed away.
Difficult had it been within those first days to permit the other in to a heart that felt only the touch of hate, knew the presence of it as it tainted the lining of lungs and worked through the fibre of every muscle, toned every action performed. From the harsh action of one deemed mother – bitter such a word, rolling upon the tongue as though it were a heavy stone pressing atop the muscle – they had learnt to allow none within. And yet he had found a way. It mattered not his actions to push others aside, the heat within the way he structured his words nor every action to keep others at arms length for reasoning the youth may only guess at, special was the place within heart and mind. Strange was such lines of thought, found within the faint want to please him and find within the sanguine tone of eyes glimmer of pride, lacking within those others they had sought to make happy with each feeble attempt be better themself.
Between teeth the blade shifted and they swallowed, found difficultly in such when tongue curled about the hilt, the slickness of saliva along it leaving it to fall from weakened grasp. Lucky were they in that it felt away from paws that had taken a slight tremble, as had the lips that struggled to form words, head turning so Bakugou may not see the tears gathering in dark eyes. Part of it is faint the want to finally tell him, speak of the odd warmth of affection they felt around him and caught upon tongue title not his own to bare, and yet more is the loss. Indeed do they remember the suit made for them, careful in every action until it had been made to replicate a spider of great size. So too do they remember the skin of the fake fur burning, the plastic tang of it hanging in the air, scorching as it rode upon smoke filled breath.
Spared from answering, at least for the moment. Uneasy the shuffle of paws, the draw of body into itself as they lifted their gaze for but a brief moment towards Goldie, flicking back down to rest atop cinnamon toned paws. “I'm sorry, I... wanted to help but I don't know where the bad guys are,” feeble attempt at smile, light the curl of it before once more frown takes hold. There are no others words, breath caught in throat before head is shifting, a slight nod in response to the offer.
Difficult had it been within those first days to permit the other in to a heart that felt only the touch of hate, knew the presence of it as it tainted the lining of lungs and worked through the fibre of every muscle, toned every action performed. From the harsh action of one deemed mother – bitter such a word, rolling upon the tongue as though it were a heavy stone pressing atop the muscle – they had learnt to allow none within. And yet he had found a way. It mattered not his actions to push others aside, the heat within the way he structured his words nor every action to keep others at arms length for reasoning the youth may only guess at, special was the place within heart and mind. Strange was such lines of thought, found within the faint want to please him and find within the sanguine tone of eyes glimmer of pride, lacking within those others they had sought to make happy with each feeble attempt be better themself.
Between teeth the blade shifted and they swallowed, found difficultly in such when tongue curled about the hilt, the slickness of saliva along it leaving it to fall from weakened grasp. Lucky were they in that it felt away from paws that had taken a slight tremble, as had the lips that struggled to form words, head turning so Bakugou may not see the tears gathering in dark eyes. Part of it is faint the want to finally tell him, speak of the odd warmth of affection they felt around him and caught upon tongue title not his own to bare, and yet more is the loss. Indeed do they remember the suit made for them, careful in every action until it had been made to replicate a spider of great size. So too do they remember the skin of the fake fur burning, the plastic tang of it hanging in the air, scorching as it rode upon smoke filled breath.
Spared from answering, at least for the moment. Uneasy the shuffle of paws, the draw of body into itself as they lifted their gaze for but a brief moment towards Goldie, flicking back down to rest atop cinnamon toned paws. “I'm sorry, I... wanted to help but I don't know where the bad guys are,” feeble attempt at smile, light the curl of it before once more frown takes hold. There are no others words, breath caught in throat before head is shifting, a slight nod in response to the offer.