#kazenoshi

♟ for something my muse admires

           Maybe that's not the right word for someone that wasn't ready for such feeling -- but he was ready for a companion of sorts. If one could call it that. Caleb really didn't care for labels. Honestly, what was his -- was his and there was argument. Hina couldn't even argue that either. Every part of him wanted her and that wouldn't even have been a lie on day one. He was so captivated by her beauty, he couldn't even think of another woman.

         So with a note written, a box of candies, an assortment of flowers, roses, an whatever else. Really he didn't listen to the human flower shop owner as she put the bouquet together. No, what he was really after was a certain necklace. One that looked like a flower, and it was simple -- just like her. Everything about her was simple, yet complicated. She was beautiful in ways that Caleb didn't think possible.

                      Dear Hina,

                            I know you didn't think ya would get anything from me, buuut since I have nothing to do and well I don't know if you have a date or not. I figured I'd leave this on your desk with one of those fancy romance novels. It's new and I didn't think you read it yet. Well I hope you like the gifts. Don't.. Don't bring them back, I want you to have them. You deserve something nice for one, love.

                  Happy Valentines Day.

                         - C.

Out of all the things to see on her desk, she hadn’t expected to see the plant. Tilting her head to the side, she read the note with ease, a small blush spreading across her face. 

A gift.

Memories

Most of his memories are things that he tries to block out and not think about. Most of which happened during his years of growing up in the human world. He hates to admit, but those awful things that had been done to him are the only thing that he remembers and he hates it. He doesn't remember his mother but he remembers his father and what he did to Caleb and his guitars, even all the music he wrote. He copes with over working himself.

Nightmares

Surprisngly, he does not. Have many nightmares, merely once in a bluemoon, like most people. His memories are turned into physical pain. Blood, sweat and tears.

Promise

Believe it or not, he is big on promises. If he says he will do something, he will do it. He really hates it when he breaks his promises. Most of the time, he makes them whenever he feels bad or awful about doing something to someone. Other than that, he tries to keep his promises to a minimum -- all do to his fear of failure.

Laugh

         Step, step -- groan. Step, step, grunt. 

         Each time these sounded throughout the air, slicing and panting would follow each step, grunt and groan until well, Calix was unable to move or even lift his arm from his side. He was exhausted, tired and overworked and his workout was far from being over with. How could he go home like this? Right, he couldn't. Not when someone didn't knock on his door. Huffing again, Caleb would step to the right and then swing his sword to the left. Slicing the air and then the dummy in front of him. 

        "T'ch. Ya idiot. Fix yer god damn posture and the way tha' ya fuckin' swing me around like tha'. For god's sakes ya ain't even tryin'. Wha'? Is tha' pretty little lady still pickin' at yer mind? For fucks sakes, she's just a woman. She can't help ya in a fight or even in a god damn transfer." A swift kick would collide with the right side of Caleb's form. A gasp would follow.

       "Fuckin' train yer ass off." In which, Caleb would huff, not even speaking a word before putting his sword on the ground. Hands going down to the hem of his shirt to just pull it off his chest. Flinging it to the side to show his glistening chest and his scarred back. Something that would shine in the moonlight. "--Fine.." Sounding utterly defeated, Caleb would pick up his sword and yet again go at his training.