Pink lions

Another story about Ildiko and Felix. Enjoy!

             Ildiko bit her lip as the girls crowded around her. They were all like colourful birds, shallowly commenting on the young queen’s dress and lack of make-up. They were all normal court women, married into money and fortune. None of them had ever really faced difficulties or poverty, and their lilting tittering was making Ildiko’s head hurt.

“So, like, when will you guys throw another ball your majesty? The last one was so fun!” A girl in purple asked, checking her nails casually.

“As soon as my husband and I wish to.” The ex-jester said coolly, a smile plastered on her face. The girl whined but let one of her companions take her place in front of the throne.  This girl flounced up in a whirl of pink frills.

“My daddy said that you used to be a peasant! Is that true, M’lady?” The other girls gasped and whispered to themselves, staring up at the queen with prying eyes.

“Yes, in fact I was a jester.” The queen replied, sounding calm despite her pounding heart. These girls, although they acted and looked stupid, were like sharks searching for any ounce of weakness they could use to separate her from her husband.

Back when she was a jester, Ildiko had always watched with reserved amusement as girls flocked around the young prince. He was handsome, in a sullen, stoic sort of way.  Allied countries and rich nobles were constantly offering their daughters’ hands in marriage, but Felix had never given in or showed the slightest bit of interest.

Once he had confided in his jester that he hated those bird-like girls who flitted about senselessly. Ildiko didn’t blame him in the slightest.  Even when she didn’t personally have to deal with them, they still annoyed her endlessly.

“Your majesty?” The girl in pink interrupted the queen’s trail of thought.

“Ah, yes?”

“Why in the world would a king marry someone like you?” Ildiko flinched visibly and the girl flipped her hair ruthlessly, her posse chattering behind her in hushed tones. The all looked at her like cats surveying a mouse and the queen shivered.

“W-Well..” The girls pressed closer, waiting for her to slip up. “I-I… I think it was b-because-“

“It’s because I love her, of course. Now please quit crowding my wife.” A deep voice penetrated the crowd of girls who immediately flocked to the king as he walked towards the thrones.

They bombarded him with petty questions, but he ignored them, walking evenly over to his wife. In one fluid moment, he scooped her up and spun around, heading back to the door he’d entered from.  The girls slowed down and stop, a few of them sighing in defeat as the door clicked closed behind them.

The king set his wife down carefully once they were safe behind the door. She turned to face him immediately, burying her face in his chest.

“What’s wrong dear? Did they shake your faith in me that easily?” The king asked softly. His wife shook her head.

“They just… they’re all so vain and self centered! I don’t know how to deal with them… As a jester, I could just flit away or reply in riddles, but as a queen I have to worry about offending them.” Ildiko sighed. Felix pulled away from her slightly and raised her chin so she’d look at him.

“Do you regret marrying me?” He asked bluntly. His wife hurriedly shook her head, standing up on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

“Of course not. I love you too, idiot.” She relaxed back into his arms again and sighed. “Even if it’s hard to understand all of these rules and manners, I’d never regret marrying you.” She felt him chuckle.

“Then do you want to go back out there and finish the conversation?”

“NO.” He grinned and pulled away from her, poking his head back out of the door into the throne room where all of the girls sat awkwardly waiting to be dismissed.

“You can leave now.” He said neatly, bowing slightly to be polite. He didn’t wait for a response.

“So,” Ildiko said slowly. “Now what?” The king sighed and deflated slightly.

“Actually, I should go back to the meeting with the other kings…”

“EH?!”  She whacked him upside the head. “That’s an important business meeting!”

“Yeah, so?”

“So you just can’t skip out on it!”

“But I missed you… Come with me?” Felix kept his usual bored expression on, but his eyes looked hopeful, if not pleading. As if she could say no to that.

“Fine.” Ildiko gave in with an overly dramatic sigh.

“Great!” The king took his wife’s hand and they set off towards the war room.

...
...
...
“Hey… are queens even allowed to sit in on kings’ meetings?”

“Only one way to find out.”

~~Kelsie

Friends

Another one about Shiro, Acorn, and co. This one includes Asa, the medic of the group. Enjoy!

Acorn knocked on the medic’s door, a piece of paper clenched in her fist. Asa answered it quickly, stepping aside without a word to let her in. The girl strode over to the couch with a familiarity that proved the numerous visits to this room. She plopped down in her seat, crossing her arms and staring her best friend down and waited for him to explain.

“You got my note, I see.” He began.

“M-hm.”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“About?”  Asa frowned and sat beside her, catching her eyes with a rather pointed look.

“You like Shiro.” Asa said firmly, not a question, not a smug exclamation, just a fact.  Acorn’s eyes went wide and she turned crimson, spluttering out pure gibberish. “Don’t bother lying; I’m not as dense as Shiro is. You like him.” Acorn finally got her tongue untangled.

“He’s not dense! And I don’t like him, honest!” Asa tapped his foot, scowling. “Stop that.” He scowled worse. “It’s not… I can’t… You know how much he loves her!” She blurted out, looking cross.

“That’s true. What are you going to do about it?” Asa took the near confession in stride, hardly batting an eye.

“Wait, you don’t think it’s silly that I like him?” Acorn was surprised; usually Asa was very practical, even to a fault.

“Of course not. You can’t control who you like. You should be careful not to get too attached though.” He replied casually.

“That makes no sense!” Acorn snapped in protest, fuming. “First you say I can’t help it and then say I can?!” Asa poked her nose. “H-Hey! Cut it out.” The medic poked two fingers on either side of her mouth and made her smile, looking very serious.

“There. Much better.”  She swatted at him but he dodged, getting off of the couch and rearranging his medicine vials on the table across from them.

“What was that about?” She growled, rubbing her cheeks.

“You shouldn’t look so sad all the time. Liking someone who doesn’t like you back is tough, but you can get through it, I know.”

“How would you know?!”

“Because I like someone who likes someone else.” Asa kept his back to his friend, re-wrapping a roll of gauze that had come un-done. He said it casually, but Acorn was intrigued.

“Do I know her?”

“No.” Not like I do anyway. He thought.

“What’s her name?” Asa paused on that one.

“I don’t know.” The fact was true. She’d never told him her real name.

“Oh. She’s a secretive girl then. Well, good luck trying to get her to like you!” Acorn said cheerfully. Asa laughed bitterly.

“I’d rather she didn’t.” Acorn opened her mouth to argue but Asa cut her off, turning back around. “For her to even realize I like her, she’d have to be hurt by the guy she likes. I’d rather her forget I exist than see her hurting.” Asa shifted uncomfortably, feeling like he’d crossed out of his comfort zone.

“That’s really sweet of you, Asa.” The medic looked up at her sharply. “That girl is stupid not to like you.” Acorn crossed the room and pecked him on the cheek, smiling. “Thank you for cheering me up, you’re the best friend a girl could have!” With that, she practically skipped out of the room, leaving Asa stunned.

Asa touched his cheek with a shaking hand, staring at the door as if Acorn was going to bound back through it. He sighed and laughed sadly, shaking his head.

“You idiot, you just insulted yourself.”

--Kelsie 

Please

One of my dearest friends lost her grandfather this morning, and I'd like to ask you all, our viewers, to send a good thought her way. A prayer, a wish, just send her a hope. Thank you. --Kelsie

Fortune's Fool

If anyone can guess the reasoning behind the title, they get bonus points. 

No telling, Em-chan, I already told you. 

“Why, pray tell, are you wearing that monstrosity?” The King asked, holding out his arm for his wife to take.

“I think it’s pretty. Besides, it suits me, don’t you think?” The Queen replied, spinning a little before taking his arm.  In truth, the King thought the dress was lovely, a beautiful purple gown with gold stripes. It suited his wife extremely well, but he was in a sour mood. The king had planned a sweet and simple anniversary of their wedding, but his officials had commandeered it and made it into a masquerade.

“We don’t match.” He noted with a slightly strained edge to his voice. He was dressed in a more subtle grey and black suit.  It was a bit uncomfortable, but not the worst he’d worn, although the fleece cape made it a bit too hot in the stuffy ballroom.

“We do actually!” The Queen countered. She adjusted her gold mask and he noticed the grey and black Jester’s cap she wore that matched his suit. The Queen pulled away from him and teasingly pulled on his mask as well, or more accurately, the golden ram horns attached to his grey mask.  It was the same color of his crown, which admittedly matched his wife’s dress.

“Well it looks weird. I look dull in comparison to you.” He was just making excuses to argue at this point, and she gladly took him up on it.

“I don’t think so. I like the moon more than the sun.” That caught his attention.

“What do you mean? I thought we were talking about our clothes.”

“I am. My dress is based off of the sun, golden but flashy, colorful and eye-catching. Your suit is based off of the moon, calm and reliable, relaxing and stoic. Although the sun may have more attention, the moon is much more loved I believe.” She smiled. “Besides, it suits us! You are the strong king, and I am the frivolous jester queen!” That got a smile out of him.

“You know what, sometimes I forget you used to be my jester, yet sometimes I forget you are my queen. You are an odd one, Ildiko.”

“I’ll take that as a complement Felix.” The Jester-Queen bowed with a grin on her face and her eyes twinkling. The light reached even the Sour King’s eyes and he smiled ever so slightly. Perhaps the ball wouldn’t be so horrible; after all, he had a fool to make his evening grand.

The promised sequel to "The King and the Jester" along with "A Memento on Masks". I might post more about these too as I go, so keep an eye out! --Kelsie

The King and the Jester

A story to cheer up anyone who is sad, a tale of humour and masks. 

Once upon a time, there was a jester who went by the name of Ildiko. She was King Felix’s very favorite fool, and in fact his only one. Every time the King was blue or was overcome by his Kingly duties, she’d make him laugh with her antics. She’d fall down, tell jokes, and fall over herself to make him laugh, and she usually succeeded.

One day, however, she was having a lot of trouble making him laugh! She fell down often, told all of her best jokes, and performed all of his favorite tricks. Finally, she leaned on his throne (only a fool could do this and not be beheaded) and begged him to tell her what was bothering him.

He explained to his jester that his Officials had decided he needed to have a queen. They were going to host a Royal ball, a masquerade, where all of the princesses and noble women of marriageable age would be invited.  He had to choose one of the girls at the ball to be his bride.

The jester tried to cheer up her king all of the month before the Ball, but to no avail. It became so bad, that the king no longer even smiled. He declared to the Jester and His Royal Officials that if any of the girls at the dance could make him laugh, then he would marry her. However, he commanded that none of the girls be told this fact.

The time of the Ball came around and the King was in a foul mood. His officials had gone as far as to choose his outfit, forcing him to wear a sheepskin cape and a mask with ram horns on it.  Before the Ball, the jester tried to cheer up, but he was simply too upset, so she left.

One by one, and then in swarms, the girls entered the ballroom. He danced half-heartedly for awhile, but all of the girls were either boring or trying way too hard to impress him, so he sat down on his throne and hoped the day would get better. Just when he thought he’d go crazy from boredom, and was pondering how his officials would react if he went on a crazed rampage, a silence broke the walls around his mind. He looked, and saw the crowds parting. A magnificently simply dressed girl was approaching, without the jewels and heavy make-up of the royalty; she only wore a plain dress and a black and white mask.

The girls around her cackled, poking fun at her clothes and making snide comments about her mask. She paid them no mind, and neither did the king, their eyes locked as she approached the throne.  Upon arrival, she curtsied neatly and held out a bag to him, stating that it was a gift. He opened it hurriedly, anything to stop the boredom.  He was perplexed to find his Jester’s hat inside, and looked up at his guest, baffled.  She asked permission to place it on him, and he agreed. After she had, she looked him over and exclaimed:

“It looks like I have finally made a fool of ewe!”

He stared at her, and she stared back, straight-faced, until the pun hit him and he burst out laughing, surprising his officials and the other guests.

After he stopped giggling, which took quite awhile, he exclaimed to the whole ballroom that he’d chosen this girl to be his bride, and asked her to remove her mask.  She did so, and the King’s eyes went wide. It was his Jester, and although he had already guessed it was her because of her voice and actions, he had not expected her to be so beautiful without her normal jester’s makeup.     

The officials, upon realizing the identity of the girl, threw a hissy fit, as did the other girls and their parents, but the King could care less. He had found his bride and was pleased as punch. Perhaps, he considered, he was so upset at picking a bride because he was in love with her all along and never knew.  Only one girl in the whole kingdom could make him laugh, and he intended on marrying her. She of course, agreed, and they lived happily ever after.

This is in the same time and about the same characters as "A memento on Masks", previously posted. I'll probably post a sequel piece as well. --Kelsie

Since apparently the last one was a thing, I'll post a prologue to another story I have written?

The screen flickered and turned on. The camera lit up and a face, bruised and scarred, appeared on the parallel screen. His eyes shifted about uneasily as he scanned the room, making sure that it was empty, and that the door was shut. His stare then returned to the camera. He adjusted it and began to speak in a low voice.
"Okay, they'll almost definitely exterminate me if this is found...” His eyes were a strange color, almost violet. They were bloodshot and tired, but also full of panic. “But it’s not like I have much left to lose." There was a slight trail of dried blood running from the corner of his mouth, and his lip was busted. “My name is Leon Cargly. Or, I guess, I’d probably be easier to find if you looked up the number 865-200-126 on the main Vesalius computer.” He again surveyed the room, brushing his matted black hair from his eyes. “I don’t have much time; the guard will be through here soon. Please. Send someone to help us. Send people to Vesalius Science Laboratories.” His voice was hoarse and weak. He coughed a low shallow cough. “We’re all going to be killed if something isn’t done.” He paused, again looking about. “They’ve got medicines and needles and they aren’t at all afraid to use them. Two from my group are dead already… I-”
There was a slight noise through the door behind him. He jolted and quickly typed 9-1-1 into the receiver box and gave one last pleading look into the camera before hitting “send.”

An email entitled ‘EMERGENCY’ with a video attached arrived in the police inbox at 2:00 A.M. that Thursday morning. The woman running the desk quickly flicked it open and pressed play. She was disturbed greatly by the video. “Mr. Evans, sir? You really should come and look at this.” The balding police chief hurried to her side and she relayed the video to him. The deputy walked up with him and viewed over from their shoulders. When it was over, the woman looked up at Evans. He hardly looked concerned. “What do I do, sir?”
“We can send some men down there, but this seems like a prank to me,” he said, swatting the air in front of him nonchalantly. “Vesalius is a highly respected laboratory. I seriously doubt anything like this could be more than a sick joke, don’t you agree, Vern?”
The Deputy nodded in a bored fashion, brushing crumbs from his moustache. “I’ll lead a squad down there now, sir.”
The woman called to dispatch immediately a search on the Vesalius Science building. Police, Vern in the reigns, were at the door within twenty minutes. The officers were less than enthusiastic to wake up at two in the morning to work a likely false alarm. However, upon arrival, no one would answer the door, which rose suspicion in the old Deputy. What reason did the respectable workers of Vesalius have to hide from the police? The door was bashed down, and into the dark halls the police tread, guns at the ready.
Immediately, they were met with the smells of antiseptic and something else, something wretched and nasty, something unidentifiable. Up and down corridors they walked, until they came upon a line of doors that were padlocked shut. They crushed the lock on one of the many doors and entered. It was a long, dark hallway. The first door they saw read TEST GROUP ONE. The wrenched the door open and the officers were almost sickened by what they saw. Men and women were in cages not unlike those at your common animal shelter. They all had collar-like devices around their necks, only slightly different than shock collars for dogs. They were all clad in tank-top shirts and long baggy black pants. Their shirts were all printed with a Vesalius logo and numbers in three digit sets. What was most disturbing amongst them, though, were their physical conditions. They all were pallid, dark-eyed, and thin beyond belief. Many of them were sickly, or injured with open bleeding wounds. Several were paralyzed, or were missing limbs, or were simply too weak to move. One area was a makeshift cage created from a dog kennel. Inside, it housed about twelve small children, all of which were highly undernourished and sick.
The captives’ eyes filled with hope as they saw the officers approaching. They knew they’d been saved. Almost instantly, all those that could talk were shouting, weeping, singing. Many of the officers fled the room and desperately called headquarters for backup. The deputy whipped out his radio. “Boss, we really need some help down here. It’s no joke. There’s really…” The deputy’s eyes grew wide. “Oh… My…” His terror only grew as he looked down the hallway. The room next to that one was TEST GROUP TWO. Next, TEST GROUP THREE. This hallway alone held around fifty doors.
As they searched on into the night, things that looked like huge mazes were discovered, and chambers that were in complete isolation. There was a room full of schizophrenics that sat trembling into corners, and a room full of people with eyes that couldn’t see. The strangest, maybe the most terrifying room that was found was full of people who were dead, except for one teenage boy who sat crying to himself underneath a blanket. The room itself smelled nauseatingly of chemicals. When the boy heard the police enter, he peered out, unashamed of the tears that dribbled off of his dirty cheeks. The moment he saw them, he broke down into heavier sobs, crying, “Thank you God… It worked…Thank you God…” This boy was immediately carried out, this boy numbered 865-200-126.
600 captives were found inside of the mammoth Vesalius building over the course of the next week.
80 of them were dead, or died soon after.
328 of them left with some sort of mental disorder.
553 of them were contaminated with diseases.
Nearly 460 scientists were tried and either arrested or sent to mental institutions.

Im not as good at this as Kels, so I'll just let you have a little from my story THE SHOW

I didn't know how well this whole, "Everyone-shall-tell-about-thineselves-each-day" thing that Boss was insisting on would work. The person whose turn it was to speak today, in particular, seemed a bit outlandish. In my week of working there, I'd never heard so much as a word from him. His name was Jude, and he was tall and bald and covered in tattoos. He was on stage crew, and always was drawing in a sketchbook he kept in the crook of his arm. I'd already heard that Madison girl telling her friends that she thought he was scary.
"Okay. So today is Jude's turn to tell about himself."Boss said. Jude didn't look up from his stare at the floor. "Now, I happen to know that not many of you know anything about Jude, so you all better pay good attention." With that, he motioned to Jude and moved a chair out for him.
Jude stood silently and moved to the chair in front of all of us. He returned his gaze to the floor. "Hey. M'name's Jude. Jude Meyers." He rolled up his sleeves, one at a time, revealing his tattooed arms. "I was born in Washington. The state, not the D.C." He cleared his throat. He was obviously very uncomfortable. "I grew up without a dad, cuz he was a drug addict. He technically lived with me, but I hardly ever saw him. When I was in about the seventh grade, he O.D.'d." He paused a second. "Uh, let's see. when I was in high school, I had really long hair. I could sit on it." He pulled a picture from his wallet and held it up. Sure enough, his hair probably three feet long. He looked a bit like Jason. He also didn't have any tattoos. The whole room was filled with assorted laughter and woahs.
"You must've taken good care of it." I said, smiling at him. "Keeping hair that long would be hard work."
"I liked it a lot." He nodded, not looking up at me. "But it was a lot of work."
"What happened to it, then? Did you just get tired of it?" Madison asked in her stuck up way she did.
"'m gettin' to that." He said irritably, his gaze meeting hers for a moment before returning to the floor.
"I was really big into the arts even then. I drew a lot too, and I wasn't bad. And I got a degree in it." A slight smile curled at his lips. But then, it faded. "'N one day, I was working a show, up doing the lights, and I got really dizzy and couldn't catch my breath. I couldn't move, 'n I was shaking and I blacked out and fell." The whole room fell silent. He clasped his hands together. "They took me to the hospital. I was out for a couple hours. 'N nobody knew what was going on, cuz nothing like that had ever happened to me before." His eyebrows creased. "The tests came back as cancer. On my brain. They told me I had maybe four months."
My mouth dropped open. With a quick scan around the room, I could tell that almost everyone else was flabbergasted too.
"I was really sick for a long time." He continued. "I wasn't allowed at work anymore; they told me it wasn't safe, I guess because I fell before. I lost a lot of weight and..." He paused again. "I lost all of my hair. 'N I could hardly leave the house." I felt terrible for him. "So one day when I was feeling really bad, I almost jumped out the window of my appartment." He mustered bitter smile. "The police came and everything. Talked slow and soft to me, like in the movies." He shifted unfomfortably in his chair.
"'N then I lived with my sister in her appartment a while. She lived across the street from a place called Meryls." He ran a hand across his head. "Meryl's had these terrible flashing lights on it, and they kept me up all night. So, one day, I decided to go figure out what Meryl's was. 'Found out Meryl was the lady who owned the place. Meryl Sage. She did tattoos. We got to talking a while, and I told her that I had cancer and that I was dying and she told me she'd give me a free tattoo." He pulled up his sleeve and pointed to a tattoo of a window, overlooking a city.
"After that, I started going over to Meryl's all the time. I got to watch her give tattoos and stuff. And I got back into drawing. Drew up some tattoos myself." He smiled a little again. "Me and Meryl became really good friends. She'd come and sit with me through Chemotherapy and stuff. I told her about everything. About dad, about theatre, about drawing, about the Window, everything. And when I made it the four months, she gave me another tattoo." He pointer to one of the several bracelet-like tattoos on his wrists." "And another at Six. And another at Ten. And another when they told me the cancer was regressing. And when the cancer was gone. And when I asked Meryl to marry me." His cheeks flushed warmly.
I smiled.
"And we got married in June of two years ago. She was so pretty in her dress." He closed his eyes happily. "She got a job offer up here in Chicago, so we moved. And then we found about this place. I didn't think I could do it, after everything. I didn't think I was good enough anymore." He opened his eyes and looked up at us all. "But, she made me try. MADE me. And so, here I am." Then he looked about awkwardly and stood up. Everyone clapped, not because they had to, but because wow. Who knew.

A memento on masks

A little short piece I wrote a while back

The Jester watched as people passed in the crowded ballroom, masks lying abandoned on nearby tables. Although it was a masquerade, not many had actually followed through and worn their masks for more than three minutes.  A barrage of faces smothered the tables in frown and jeers, colors and sparkles, feathers and sequins. 

Although all the decorative masks were cast aside, the Jester noticed with slight amusement that each and every person was still wearing a mask. A mask of Bravery, of Happiness, of Pride. Each person in passing wore an invisible mask of emotions that kept them bordering on sane.  One woman the Jester passed had recently divorced her husband, yet was laughing and smiling with her friends. However, the mask of peace painted on her face didn't reach her eyes.

That was the thing about masks. They didn't cover the eyes, the most expressive part of the face. The holes that allowed the wearer to see also allowed people to see them. In the eyes of every laughing person was an underlying truth of boredom, pain, loneliness, sadness, fear.

A person can easily fake a smile, but when that mask is put up, the smile never quite reaches the eyes. A painted mask made of the most beautiful gems in the world seems worthless on the face of someone whose eyes scream to be freed.

Even the Jester’s beloved King wore a mask on most occasions. A mask that makes him “royal” and “proper”.  When duty constrains one to be polite, then a mask is firmly fitted and tied to the face it’s deigned to fix.  The Jester’s job was to loosen this mask, to make light dance in the ruler’s eyes.

And so the Jester ties on her own mask, and acts to her very best capability to keep her eyes honest and happy. Even when she is on the verge of a breakdown, she ties the solid mask to her crumbling face and steps into a curtsy, ever the fool.

Everyone wears a mask. But the eyes give them away.

-Kelsie

Not like you

A companion piece to "Say something", set nearly a week later. Enjoy!

Acorn stared at Shiro, worried.  He looked tired. He was fixing a broken bike-one of the extras- and seemed very intent on his work, although he’d been working on it for hours with very little accomplished.  Shifting the tray of food in her grip slightly, she stepped into the workshop, clearing her throat to get her boss’s attention.

“Yes?” Shiro replied, not looking up. Acorn set the tray beside him on a workbench, picking up the neglected one she had brought him for lunch.

“I fixed you dinner… it’s macaroni. Your favorite.” The teen didn’t reply, tightening a bolt for the fifth time. “Shiro, please eat something. You’re going to starve if you don’t eat and stop thinking about-“

“Don’t.” He interrupted, setting the wrench down carefully. “I’m not hungry.”

“Shiro, you haven’t eaten hardly anything in days!”

“Yeah, well who cares? I’m still doing all of my duties as leader.” He resumed working, oiling a gear.

“You aren’t yourself, and you haven’t been since Lay-“

“I’m just tired.” He replied quickly, cutting her off again. He sighed and massaged his forehead, covering his ears and closing his mouth.  Acorn knelt beside her friend and covered his hands gently with her own. He had his eyes closed, but Acorn stared at them anyway.  He had dark circles under his eyes, and looked gaunt and paler than usual. Although he always appeared asleep when Acorn went in to check on him, she could tell he hadn’t been getting any rest.

Very softly, she snaked her hands under his, feeling his ears and hair. Then, with a force that surprised even her, she dragged Shiro’s hands to his sides and pinned them there.

“Listen to me Shiro.” The boy nodded but didn’t look up. “Listen. Layla is gone. She won’t be back for a long time.” Shiro made a soft sad noise, and for a moment she considered letting him go, but she’d gone too far to stop now. “You have been acting so tough and uncaring since I found you on that bench, but I’m your best friend Shiro. You don’t think I would have noticed that although you haven’t frowned, you haven’t smiled either? I’m not stupid. Why don’t you just cry like you want to?” Shiro’s eyes shot open and met hers. “I can read you better than you think I can, idiot. Besides, I miss her too…”

She felt her eyes fill with tears as he reached out for her like a child. She hugged him tightly. Although he hugged her back like she was an anchor, and his hands were shaking, he kept up his composure and pride stubbornly.

“You don’t have to be so strong now Shiro. Let me be that person for a while. Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

Shiro stiffened a moment and began shaking harder; crying silently but trying to be quiet although nobody would be able to hear him from the workshop anyway.

After a few minutes of that, Shiro returned to his normal self, and Acorn was able to persuade him to eat and sleep. He slept a good twenty-nine hours, nearly reaching thirty before waking up feeling better. When he woke, it was night again, and it seemed everyone was asleep. He slipped out of bed and into the hallway, not turning on any lights and following his memory to the room of the friend he had a hunch would still be awake.

Acorn was sewing when Shiro knocked softly on her door. She called out an invitation, and he came in a few moments later, looking sheepish. She didn’t comment as he approached her where she sat in her armchair, mending what looked like one of Cardinal’s old shirts.

“Acorn?” Shiro spoke finally.

“Yes, Shiro?”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“A day or two.”

“Ah.” Shiro sat down on the bed across from her and looked at his feet. They sat like this for a while, just enjoying each other’s presence and thinking. Then, Acorn finished sewing a final stitch, and set the shirt aside, looking over at her friend. He bit his lip, finally looking up.

“Thank you.” Acorn didn’t seem surprised. She just smiled and stood up, mussing his hair.

“I’m just glad you’re better silly. Now go on, go back to bed. I’ll wake you up in the morning and we can get back to work.” She held out a hand to Shiro and helped him up. She walked him to the door and they stood a moment before he hugged her tightly, muttering another thank you into her hair. She chuckled.

“Goodnight Shiro.”

“Goodnight Acorn.” And so he left.

-Kelsie

A short story- Say something

             First off, I' apologize for never posting. I have no excuse. Next, this is kinda sappy, so, if you don't like romance, don't read it. This is based off of one of my unfinished stories, about an orphan and a girl who'd lived with him and his gang for a while. This is also loosely based off of the song: "Say something" 

“I love you” She whispered, clutching at his shirt, hiding her face in his chest. All Layla could hear was his heart beating and the sharp intake of breath at her words. Her heart plummeted when a silence grew between them, and she swallowed.

“Say something.” She choked out, feeling her shoulders shake. “I love you Shiro. Let me stay! I want to be with you and the gang forever! Don’t make me go!” She felt her face grow hot and tears escaped her eyes, clenched tightly shut. “Say something! Please.” She wrapped her arms around his chest and buried her face in his shirt.

Hands reached lowly back and unhooked hers, pulling her away from him so they were a foot apart. Shiro leaned down to his friend’s eye level, cool red eyes looking horribly sad. Layla wiped her eyes and waited for him to speak.

“You have to go home Layla.” Every word he spoke pierced her heart. “Your parents need you, and you have to finish school. You have a home Layla, a family. We don’t have that. You need to take good care of yours.” She shook her head.

“My home is with you, Shiro!”

“Layla…”

“I love you! Does that mean nothing to you?” Layla rubbed the balls of her hands into her eyes, sobbing out her words. Shiro leaned in then and kissed her sweetly and chastely on the lips. Every ounce of love went into the kiss, leaving them both stunned. Layla hiccuped and looked up at him with sad brown eyes. 

“I love you too… But you need to go home. You just, finish college and… come back to me, okay?”  Shiro kissed her forehead once and drew her into a tight hug, and the girl felt warm and safe for a single moment. Then the taxi honked and they both flinched, drawing apart. Words were no longer necessary, so Layla put her bags in the trunk, sliding into the passenger seat and shutting the door behind her. Shiro couldn't watch, so he turned back towards home as the engine revved.

“Shiro!” Her voice cut back to him and the boy whipped around, hardly catching the necklace that had been thrown to him. “I’ll come back to you. Wait for me!” With that the impatient taxi flew around the corner and vanished from sight, leaving Shiro standing on the sidewalk clutching the heart shaped pendant.

Shiro walked a few steps in silence before falling onto the park bench nearby. He held the necklace tight in his hands and promptly burst into tears, sobbing and trying to stop, but the emotions had finally caught up. He was later found by Acorn, cried to sleep on the park bench, Layla’s heart in his hands.

There. sappy right? --Kelsie