Post by natalya on Mar 5, 2011 16:42:54 GMT -5
HAPPY SUPER LATE BIRTHDAY ICE <3
Whoever decided that the sound that clocks make is “tick, tock” has to have been lying to himself.
The noise a clock makes when one is waiting is quite simply a hammer on nerves.
The grating is even worse when the clock ceases to make a sound, only to be quickly and easily replaced with the deep, rich gongs of the clock sounding midnight. The girl in the kitchen sighed loudly, tapping her foot on the floor, listening to the toll of the clock as she stared at the front door.
The deadbolt slowly turned from the outside, and the outline of a man stepped quickly inside, so as to not let in the cold air behind him. He shut the door swiftly, so much so that she felt not a single gust of wind from the outside conditions—and she knew it was bad out there. Through the windows, she had been watching the delicate trees pushed and pulled around by Mother Nature’s breath.
Yes, she had been watching. Watching, and waiting.
“Do you know what time it is?” Her voice rang out, strong, clear, and full to the brim with venom. The figure froze in the doorway, fingers brushing the bolt so as to lock it behind him. He glanced up, seeing the figure perched oh-so-ladylike on a chair in the kitchen. The candlelight she was seeing by lit her features up so that even her rage was dulled by the soft, golden glow. But he was still shocked, no matter how little it showed on his own face. He thought she was in bed, and that his absence had gone unnoticed.
No, she had noticed. She was watching and waiting for him to return.
And now that he had, he was going to get what had been coming to him the entire time.
She narrowed her eyes at him fiercely…before dropping the angry façade. She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and looking away so he couldn’t tell how worried she was. She didn’t want him to get an impression of her as being weak, ever.
“I-I was just…it’s nothing I was only wondering when you would get h—“
Egil quickly crossed the long kitchen, silenced his girlfriend with a quick peck to her lips, and took one of her icy hands to press to his cheek.
“Besides,” he whispered softly, “It’s three in the morning, but it’s three in the morning on Valentine’s Day, and I was getting something special.”
Natalia raised an eyebrow at him, watching closely as he stood from his seat, reached down to his pocket, and took a step back…sinking down to the floor…propped up by only one knee. A small velvet box was resting on his open palm, which was trembling ever-so-slightly. His normally expressionless face reflected a hot passion in the dim candlelight, and he smiled up at her.
“My beautiful Natalia Arlovskaya.” He spoke softly, but in a tone that implied so softly that he had been practicing and planning this for a while now. “You’re beautiful, you’re amazing, you’re funny, you’re brilliant, I don’t know what you’re doing with me. I’ll protect you the best I can, I’ll make you happy to the best of my ability, I’ll love you forever with all my heart. Natalia, will you marry me?”
Hands now firm and steady, he opened the velvety box. Nestled in soft-looking black fabric was a delicate silver ring. A perfectly cut diamond lay in the center, throwing rainbows every which way as it caught the candle’s rays. It was flanked by a dark, triangular amethyst on either side.
Natalia’s eyes flickered only fleetingly to the ring—to be honest, if he had presented her with a doughnut ring she would still marry him—before snapping up to meet his eyes again. Distantly, observantly, as if she were seeing it on someone else, she was aware of the tears on her face. She tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked noise and a vigorous nod. Coughing dryly, she spoke.
“Y-yes. God, yes, of course I would—will—“ Natalia shut her mouth and stuck her trembling left hand in the hand that he offered her.
Egil took her hand, gently, carefully. He slid the delicate band onto her ring finger, kissing each of her fingertips before holding it at a short distance to admire. He couldn’t help but think how….-right- it looked on her hand, as if it was meant to be there all along. Natalia wrapped both arms around his neck as he stood, burying her face in his neck.
“I love you.” They whispered simultaneously, and he lifted her face from his neck to kiss her.
Epilogue: Stars
“Styrr. Styrr Korsmo. Calm down, would you.”
Egil reached out with practiced arms to catch the hyperactive little boy running around the pair sitting on the hilltop. He squirmed and struggled to get out of his father’s tight grip, but to no avail.
The little boy looked more like his father than his mother, with his pale white hair and blue-violet eyes. He was only five, but one could tell just by looking at him that when he got older he would be tall and lean as his father is. He was growing fast, too fast for his parents’ tastes. They grow up too fast, even when they’re only five.
Egil slowly, albeit grudgingly, let go of the boy in favor of pulling his small, delicate-looking wife into his lap. She threw a dirty glare back at him, arms folding over her stomach.
“Careful. You’ll hurt her.” She spoke softly, without the edge that she would have liked in her voice. She was actually having a quite good time, but she didn’t want her husband to think she was going soft just because she was bearing their second child.
“I’m sorry, Natalia.” He said with a smile, pulling her arm around him so she didn’t slide off. One of his hands rested on her pregnant belly, and she smiled, letting the angry façade slip off her face. He glanced down, almost in wonder, as the baby kicked him square in the hand. It was as if it could tell he was there.
Styrr ran up alongside them as well, placing one of his own hands on his mother’s stomach. “Wah! It moved!” he said in amazement, feeling as the baby kicked him as well. She would never get what it was about pregnancy that amazed men so much…. “Is it gonna be a wittle boy? Or a wittle girl?”
“A girl,” Natalia said with an even bigger smile, “Miesha, her name is. She’s to be born next month, in September.”
Natalia had been terrified when she had found out she was pregnant; just the thought of bringing another life into this world was something so utterly intimidating that she could barely comprehend it. But Egil wanted them so badly, she couldn’t say no to him. Carrying Miesha was turning out to be a lot easier, even though it was still unnerving.
Styrr looked up at the sky, looking at the stars above the trio as if he were seeing them for the first time. Egil pulled him to a sitting position, taking his tiny hand and tracing the constellations with it.
“Lyra,” Egil spoke. “The Harp. Sagittarius, the Archer. Scutum, the Shield.” The small boy repeated the names after his father spoke them, giggling because they sounded funny in his mouth. He had never heard such odd words in his short life.
The night was perfect. The stars shone bright, the moon was full like a shiny new quarter, and her family was happy.
And that was all that mattered to her right now.
Whoever decided that the sound that clocks make is “tick, tock” has to have been lying to himself.
The noise a clock makes when one is waiting is quite simply a hammer on nerves.
The grating is even worse when the clock ceases to make a sound, only to be quickly and easily replaced with the deep, rich gongs of the clock sounding midnight. The girl in the kitchen sighed loudly, tapping her foot on the floor, listening to the toll of the clock as she stared at the front door.
The deadbolt slowly turned from the outside, and the outline of a man stepped quickly inside, so as to not let in the cold air behind him. He shut the door swiftly, so much so that she felt not a single gust of wind from the outside conditions—and she knew it was bad out there. Through the windows, she had been watching the delicate trees pushed and pulled around by Mother Nature’s breath.
Yes, she had been watching. Watching, and waiting.
“Do you know what time it is?” Her voice rang out, strong, clear, and full to the brim with venom. The figure froze in the doorway, fingers brushing the bolt so as to lock it behind him. He glanced up, seeing the figure perched oh-so-ladylike on a chair in the kitchen. The candlelight she was seeing by lit her features up so that even her rage was dulled by the soft, golden glow. But he was still shocked, no matter how little it showed on his own face. He thought she was in bed, and that his absence had gone unnoticed.
No, she had noticed. She was watching and waiting for him to return.
And now that he had, he was going to get what had been coming to him the entire time.
She narrowed her eyes at him fiercely…before dropping the angry façade. She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and looking away so he couldn’t tell how worried she was. She didn’t want him to get an impression of her as being weak, ever.
“I-I was just…it’s nothing I was only wondering when you would get h—“
Egil quickly crossed the long kitchen, silenced his girlfriend with a quick peck to her lips, and took one of her icy hands to press to his cheek.
“Besides,” he whispered softly, “It’s three in the morning, but it’s three in the morning on Valentine’s Day, and I was getting something special.”
Natalia raised an eyebrow at him, watching closely as he stood from his seat, reached down to his pocket, and took a step back…sinking down to the floor…propped up by only one knee. A small velvet box was resting on his open palm, which was trembling ever-so-slightly. His normally expressionless face reflected a hot passion in the dim candlelight, and he smiled up at her.
“My beautiful Natalia Arlovskaya.” He spoke softly, but in a tone that implied so softly that he had been practicing and planning this for a while now. “You’re beautiful, you’re amazing, you’re funny, you’re brilliant, I don’t know what you’re doing with me. I’ll protect you the best I can, I’ll make you happy to the best of my ability, I’ll love you forever with all my heart. Natalia, will you marry me?”
Hands now firm and steady, he opened the velvety box. Nestled in soft-looking black fabric was a delicate silver ring. A perfectly cut diamond lay in the center, throwing rainbows every which way as it caught the candle’s rays. It was flanked by a dark, triangular amethyst on either side.
Natalia’s eyes flickered only fleetingly to the ring—to be honest, if he had presented her with a doughnut ring she would still marry him—before snapping up to meet his eyes again. Distantly, observantly, as if she were seeing it on someone else, she was aware of the tears on her face. She tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked noise and a vigorous nod. Coughing dryly, she spoke.
“Y-yes. God, yes, of course I would—will—“ Natalia shut her mouth and stuck her trembling left hand in the hand that he offered her.
Egil took her hand, gently, carefully. He slid the delicate band onto her ring finger, kissing each of her fingertips before holding it at a short distance to admire. He couldn’t help but think how….-right- it looked on her hand, as if it was meant to be there all along. Natalia wrapped both arms around his neck as he stood, burying her face in his neck.
“I love you.” They whispered simultaneously, and he lifted her face from his neck to kiss her.
Epilogue: Stars
“Styrr. Styrr Korsmo. Calm down, would you.”
Egil reached out with practiced arms to catch the hyperactive little boy running around the pair sitting on the hilltop. He squirmed and struggled to get out of his father’s tight grip, but to no avail.
The little boy looked more like his father than his mother, with his pale white hair and blue-violet eyes. He was only five, but one could tell just by looking at him that when he got older he would be tall and lean as his father is. He was growing fast, too fast for his parents’ tastes. They grow up too fast, even when they’re only five.
Egil slowly, albeit grudgingly, let go of the boy in favor of pulling his small, delicate-looking wife into his lap. She threw a dirty glare back at him, arms folding over her stomach.
“Careful. You’ll hurt her.” She spoke softly, without the edge that she would have liked in her voice. She was actually having a quite good time, but she didn’t want her husband to think she was going soft just because she was bearing their second child.
“I’m sorry, Natalia.” He said with a smile, pulling her arm around him so she didn’t slide off. One of his hands rested on her pregnant belly, and she smiled, letting the angry façade slip off her face. He glanced down, almost in wonder, as the baby kicked him square in the hand. It was as if it could tell he was there.
Styrr ran up alongside them as well, placing one of his own hands on his mother’s stomach. “Wah! It moved!” he said in amazement, feeling as the baby kicked him as well. She would never get what it was about pregnancy that amazed men so much…. “Is it gonna be a wittle boy? Or a wittle girl?”
“A girl,” Natalia said with an even bigger smile, “Miesha, her name is. She’s to be born next month, in September.”
Natalia had been terrified when she had found out she was pregnant; just the thought of bringing another life into this world was something so utterly intimidating that she could barely comprehend it. But Egil wanted them so badly, she couldn’t say no to him. Carrying Miesha was turning out to be a lot easier, even though it was still unnerving.
Styrr looked up at the sky, looking at the stars above the trio as if he were seeing them for the first time. Egil pulled him to a sitting position, taking his tiny hand and tracing the constellations with it.
“Lyra,” Egil spoke. “The Harp. Sagittarius, the Archer. Scutum, the Shield.” The small boy repeated the names after his father spoke them, giggling because they sounded funny in his mouth. He had never heard such odd words in his short life.
The night was perfect. The stars shone bright, the moon was full like a shiny new quarter, and her family was happy.
And that was all that mattered to her right now.