Can I pls have a Imagine where Nova Imperator(in a black dress wearing a black crown with a ruby on top) And Annullar(in a black&blue tuxedo without that thing covering his mouth) is dancing under the moon light with the others watching them in shock, also NI have a flower (haures flower) behind his ear. pls? in the end they confessed their feelings pls?
Under the soft glow of the moonlight, shadows ripple against the darkness. The soft light absorbing itself, making shadows dance as if everything was meant to be. As if the ruby red drops glistening against their pristine skins were never there.
Every step symbolized power. Strength. A romance unwilling to let go. And tears wishing for a better tomorrow. With every step grew vines and vines of speckled darkness, its ivory petals brushing against the satin gown that hung just below Nova's shoulders. A jaded crown sits on his hair, nestled just right, like his hands clasped in Annullar's.
"Have you ever seen anything so tragic?" Nova bitterly scoffs, a faint smile on his face. His eyes trace the ruby droplets dripping down Annullar's face. Eyes meeting, and yet both searching beyond what the soul could only hope to discover.
Annullar smiles, momentarily taking his hand from Nova's hip to wipe the blood on Nova's cheek. "Have you forgotten tragedy is felt, not seen?"
Body danced under the moonlight, swaying as if the wind played the most harmonious music. A small group gathers at a distance, whispering, wondering. All curious, and all impatient.
"Will he confess?"
"Oh, everyone knows!"
"Yes!" another agrees, "They know it as well."
"Does that mean?"
Annullar’s eyes flickers, a chuckle escaping his lips. For a moment, his eyes met with Iblis and nods as if a momentary glance had all the understanding he needed.
“They’re watching.”
Nova’s hand grips Anullar’s tighter. A gasp escapes his lips, barely audible but still there. A battle of grip and torment. Of letting go and holding on.
The melody in the air flows longer, the dance seemingly an infinite loop of sways and twirls. Blood-mixed sweet stains the blue-detailed tuxedo, creating a dark, moody purple. Shorter steps for a longer dance. Breathing is paced, as if it was the only thing left that they could focus on. And yet, the glimmer in their eyes can’t seem to fade.
The rationality to let go and to hold on sinks in dipper.
Nova’s figure shivers, blood spilling from the corners of his lips. He bites his lips, eyes flustered, dodging the piercing black eyes that spills compassion, and love. And pain.
A small laugh leaves his lips letting more blood to taint his skin. Blood flowed from his pores, with every breath as torturous as the next. His skin pricked, as if blades cutting through every millimeter of his existence. As if flames consumed his body, the heat emanating from his soul, but leaving him unscathed.
“There is love and there is pain,” a whimper. “And you can only choose one”
And suddenly, the shadow comes to a halt. The wind withdrew its melodies, and the moonlight constricted its life. What once speckled turned ashen and gray. A lifeless lump amongst others.
Fingers trembled. Reaching, yet parting. Fingers twitched, and yet everything was within control. Eyes chose not to meet. Both focused on the freedom their fingers, the lightness in the air, and the smoothness of the wind. Everything gulp of air was like drinking gallons of star fruit tea. So sweet and flowing. And painless.
So, I choose pain. The words echoed in their minds. Eyes resolute of never meeting again. The twitches have come to stop, forced under the skins of their clothes.
“Is this good bye?” A grave mistake it was to ask the question. Nova stood, eyes on the lumps of charcoal littering the sand. The waves of music no longer smoothly dancing in his ears. And then a realization. The pair of shoes with lightning blue detailed no longer consumed his view. In fact, it vanished.
Nova looks up to see a black tuxedo, sleek and sharp. Walking towards the dispersing crowd. A hand stretches towards the figure before reclining, a bitter sweet taste coating his sleep.
So, it was.
Annullar’s eyes glances back to Iblis’s retreating figure, against the confused doll eyes wanting to know why. But he could only shake his head.
Under the soft glow of the moonlight, shadows ripple against the darkness. However, it was no longer of two lovers in a spell, but figures dispersing amidst the light.
