Summer rain

13. června 2010 v 11:36 | Garou-tan |  FF
Sešlo se pár okolností přímo ideálních pro něco takového... tak Garou psala (přesněji: snažila se zjistit, co všechno umí její angličtina).

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Fandom: Katekyo Hitman REBORN!
Pairing: Byakuran/Rokudo Mukuro
Doba a místo děje: Byakuranova studia; neznámé město v paralelním světě
Prohlášení: Nesepsáno za účelem zisku, postavy patří Amano Akiře.


The city was caught by slight summer rain.
He felt raindrops falling into his snowy hair as he was walking down the street. His clothes were fluttering in gentle wind and he gratefully breathed air, freshened by upcoming storm. Both his body and mind enjoyed the atmosphere of city relaxed by an exception in summer's weather, which was supposed to be hot.
When a raindrop hit his cheek, a rill of warm water ran down his skin, making him smile his usual way. But the water cooled down so quickly he found it real pity. He guessed it was thanks to the wind, which made the air dance waltz. Every time the air was dancing, he felt relieved.
His heels were clattering on the stone sidewalk, and when he was going over wooden bridge, the sound changed for a while. It was softer, more vulnerable somehow, and he was savouring every sound his steps made.
Smile on his lips - playful one he always wore - grew wider.
Lots of people walked past him.
He saw a boy with black dog, probably mastiff. The dog was dragging its owner to the park, eager to run around him in circles. He himself never liked mastiffs much - he preferred Samoyeds. He even had one named Akiko; she was his beloved child of autumn.
After the boy with mastiff, an old lady caught his attention. She was a little fat, dressed in pink skirt and jumper and had very big hat. He thought her clothes were too tight for someone with her figure, but if she liked them and didn't see any problems, it was her bad. He laughed at her quietly, but his laughter perished in city's ruckus.
His thoughts about the fat lady went away when he bumped into someone.
He ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. Then he looked at person standing in front of him.
Violet sight met mismatched look.
"I'm sorry," he apologized.
"It was my bad," the other responded.
He bumped into a youth - and very beautiful one indeed. There was some kind of mystery in youth's eyes, in that mismatched look built by crimson red that human's blood had and azure blue of sky in the middle of clear afternoon. Youth's skin was pale, much more than his own, and his dark hair was creeping around his wolf-like face.
And there was a smile on youth's lips. It was as playful as his own, but it was as dark as secret in mismatched eyes the youth had. Youth himself resembled an unsolved case, an unknown mystery. And when the wind made his hair move, he felt like this mystery was mocking him.
When he sent his sight back to youth's eyes, the youth closed his eyes and continued his previous direction. He looked back and watched him disappear in the crowd.
They have never met again.
 

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