#fuuraijin

fuuraiji--n replied to your post:"Did you know you have the cutest butt I have ever...

captain of the butt pirates ahoy

[ criminal minds ] 

     Having an eye for detail on top of a good memory were good skills to have, and her employers would surely put them to use outside of her "contract" as well. The body on her table had been in charge of an exchange earlier that day, one that couldn't be completed because he'd insisted on aggressively hitting on a woman who wanted nothing to do with him. When he stupidly decided to touch her without her permission, he ended up getting two center mass and one to the pelvic area.

The photographer had been in the area in order to provide evidence of the exchange and incriminate the other party, but in the end, all he could do was bring proof that the hit wasn't at all related to one of the family's enemies.

     So that's why his hands were always cold.

She thinks idly while veiling his sleep. Fingers travel away from his hand, stopping briefly by his wrist to count the pulse within it for the thousandth time. Alice touches their back to his cheek, feels the difference of temperature between their skins, makes a mental note of any fluctuations. Digits push aside a lock of brown hair, lingering in a caress.

Even now she still remembers the brilliant shade of green found in his gaze from her childhood memories. So much brighter than her own, but at the same time, so much darker...

It's been years and he still looks the same. The same kind man who played with her on the flower fields and proudly wore the crowns she made him.

But it doesn't take long for her thoughts to focus back on the present, and for her gaze to fall upon the blastia that'd been forced into his chest. She hesitates, fingers hovering over the bright red orb that seems to have a life of its own, and even if it doesn't, it holds his life still and forever.

Hesitant fingers trails along the edges of the assailing material, starkly cold against the burning skin wrapped around it, clinging desperately to it. She pulls away, half afraid that her touch might upset it, or bring upon the failure of something that was never meant to have succeeded.

Alice takes his hand on hers again, laces their fingers because she still feels safe like this, even when she's the one protecting him. His hands feel cold because he lacks a beating heart inside his chest. And yet... He still has more heart than most people could ever hope to have.

     She had finished both crowns already, hers resting pretty atop her head, pink and white petals nestled in the blond of her hair, and the other, made entirely with small purple flowers, she held carefully on her lap.

Alice waited patiently, swinging her legs a bit on the park bench, humming a song she'd heard her mother singing a couple of days before and hadn't been able to forget ever since.

SEND ME A ♫

fuuraiji--n - song

     Alice had never heard of a counselor approaching a medical student to tell them they were taking the course too seriously, but that's exactly what happened at the end of her semester. With how things were going, she would already be graduating well ahead of time. He advised her to take some time off, worried she was putting her own health at risk to keep up her spot at the top of all of her classes. She wasn't. She just had things to prove to herself.

But because he was so insisting, she agreed to apply for a year abroad, and with her grades, she was easily accepted. So she found herself in a country she knew nothing about with a schedule that was too light for her liking. As such, she started visiting other courses, watching classes that had nothing to do with being a doctor.

And that's how she found a Creative Writing class with a mischievously charming professor who knew how to effortlessly captivate his students.

Her Friday afternoons were taken up by in-depth discussions of classic books, breaking down popular characters into their tropes and reviewing high-grossing movies to figure out exactly why they were so appealing.

Professor Raven, whose name was always dragged into the joke of brooding and mysterious characters, proved to be delightful company. One she found herself seeking even after she was no longer his student. Perhaps especially because of that.

Eight months went by in a flash, and Alice decided that she had to deal with whatever this thing weighing down her heart was. She had learned in his very class that sometimes writing one's feelings down was the best way to deal with them. And taking a page from her late mother's book, who wrote songs whenever she was overwhelmed by emotion, she tried her hand at something new and with a borrowed guitar, she wrote down what her heart wanted to say.