Autograph | By : sherlock Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male > InuYasha/Sessh?maru > InuYasha/Sessh?maru Views: 1805 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha and make no profit from writing this story. |
Autograph: Chapter One I confess that rare things appealed to me. I found that the characteristic was often proportional to beauty, to no surprise. But no pulchritude could compare to his, for his ever so subtle smiles were the scarcest phenomena. And there, right there, mere paces away, was a genuine miracle. Sesshomaru, the one I held above all else, was smiling. I would relish the canvas before me for millennia and I failed to prevent the muscles of my own façade from lifting the corner of my lips. “When will your appearance cease to become a compass for my fate, Brother?” I whispered towards the wild mountain Cherry Tree his back currently relied on for comfort and support. Everything I did, I did to draw forward the expressions he would otherwise hide behind his mask—the mask all but I felt threatened by. I loved him while he wore it with stubborn, childish pride. I loved him when he least deserved it, because that was when he needed it most. I took a step forward in great pain, angry and bitter that this was the farthest I could go. But my emotions settled themselves in haste, for I knew this was for the best. Like this, miracles were possible. “If the moon smiled, she would resemble you,” I exhaled once more into the blissfully ignorant air, wishing the fervent blood-stained petals would carry my mute words. “You leave the same impression of something beautiful, but annihilating. But I will never regret you conquering my heart.” With one final glance, I turned and walked away. It was time. As I approached the familiar clearing of exquisite wildflowers and frondescence, miles away from the castle, the pace of my heart quickened. Closer and closer I trekked, to the ethereal stalk blushing roseate and pulsating waves of funereal longevity, until I arrived at its rooted foot. My sharp eyes gazed skyward and landed on the nostalgic figure suspended amongst the ancient, unrelenting branches, looking far too fragile for my liking. I made myself soar amid the pink shower until I reached the scarlet entity that was flawlessly camouflaged by the surrounding palette akin to his attire. I would remain close, for what followed the next three dusks was a night utterly devoid of luminosity. With noble patience I waited, till the moon fully departed and finally, finally, nocturne escaped me. "O wild mountain Cherry Tree,
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