The Small Blonde Girl

Chapter 7: A Refreshing Glass Of Love

In the home of the welcoming girl, Rose had ordered her to get two flasks and a bag of ice - of which she refused - he rushed to a shop in quickened stride, bought some cheap chocolate sauce and a hit of mint. He spent a good 5 minutes pissing off the shopkeepers whilst trying to understand the strong accent they had; which unfortunately made him feel rather inadequate - however, I digress, Rose had a plan of action and he planned to treat his little companion in this strange area to something he knew how to make quite well.

A refreshing iced mocha. It was: simple, delicious, and could be easily enjoyed with perhaps a little extra chocolate for those who were unfortunately calamitous enough to have a body which detested and despised coffee and thus preferred a more generous helping to the sickly substance - however not too much as to induce a distaste do the drink; for those with a more refined and exotic taste, perhaps it was best for a combination of mint and other substances of the consumers choosing to make a strange icy concoction.

As he made his return trip, he decided to check the time on his phone. The screen lit up are in bold, white digits and there, the time stared back at him. The background lock screen had been an uncolored rose drawn by the girl he had come to see. Drawn to perfection in his own eyes. The background that lay behind his apps was a simple drawing that read out the words: 'perfectly insane'. It defined his mind perfectly, he was insane. However he was holding onto his sanity through love and fear to what would happen if he allowed his mind to run a mock, he feared she would escape his hospitality and turn her own presentation of herself towards him into wariness and hostility. He had a vague idea of how he would react towards a situation where she no longer allowed herself to be cooperative with him and instead neglected the relationship. A situation like that - painful, self-destructive and constantly wreaking havoc on the recesses of the mind - would literally kill him, though not once would he blame her for it.

Discarding this thought, he looked down at the phone and read out loud to himself the time. Realizing it was still relatively early into the day."1PM... I've only been awake for... 5 hours? Strange... thought I'd be up longer."

'You will crumble until my thirst is satisfied.'

The voice he always heard when he was isolated - a cold, heartless, desolate feeling, cutting into him like a searing hot dagger; a fear in the form of a nightmare-like evil that filled him up with such a fear it could be thicker than blood in and described as inky abyss. On the other hand - It was HER voice. It was the voice he loved so much twisted into the voice of a monster. A voice he found comfort and attraction within yet in these situations - in the dark - it brought out the cynical fear inside of him. It was something very few understood, being delphic in nature, Obvious in meaning: insanity. A devil to dance with and a cruel mistress that brought the strongest of men to their knees, and a woman's loving heart so cold and enigmatic of itself. It makes an unyielding monster cower in the corners of its own mind whilst shattering a war hero's courageous bravado. No matter the horrors the audacious and unshaken face in real world. Sometimes it's the quixotic that lays the fragments of the broken pillars and support in the wake of one's hapless mind.

He was in the light - his goal was simple. Give her a taste of something that was different. He wasn't going to become a wreckage in her wake (or so he hoped) he wasn't going to just become a cataclysm at her feet and force her to watch him cry. So long as he had an excuse to live, he would be there for her in her arms and her in his. He wouldn't let her go, he couldn't. If she saw him in such an unstable state. Despite that fact she said she would never leave - she would; no matter how many times she said no matter what happened she would never go. She would walk away - he understood that - so he would NEVER allow her to see his most hazardous points, he would keep all of his worst fears to himself under lock and key. Rose would make sure she never saw the monster inside of him. Her love to him was what was most important and her happiness was equally as important. So if his happiness was her own. It was the same vice versa.

"You won't take me... not while I have a light... 'All the darkness in the world couldn't put out the light from a single candle'" He spoke in an exasperated tone to the being that was not there. He watched the world pass by with each step, finding something new that he had seen before, yet caught his eye from the excessive boredom he currently felt. Though it would soon be fleeting away from his mind - the more he thought about her, the faster she began to walk. The sound of the plastic wavering in the wind was the most calming thing in the world to him at this point, giving him an excuse to ignore the voice in his head. Why focus your concentration on something that was just a pale imitation to the real thing. The voice where just even a note of bad singing could uplift his mode massively, to her and everyone else, it was just a different accent. To him, it was a one woman hymn - a piece of perfection he could listen to all day, he could use it to drown himself on cloud nine. It submerged him and she didn't even realize the happiness she caused him. He hoped for a happy future with her endlessly in his own mind - She was his sweetest addiction and that was all that he needed. The one friend she would never lose - the love she would hopefully realis.

Finally - he was back at her house, ready to make the potion-like beverage and serve it the otherworldly, seraphic girl. He knocked upon the door thrice - when it was opened - he was met with a bright light. It was her smile, her face, her hair... her everything. She was positively brimming with an atmosphere of vibrancy.

She invited him in and she forced him into the kitchen, sat before him was a blender. Perfect, considering he may have thought that she didn't own one. Thankful at least that he didn't have to crush the ice with his hands or any household objects. He pulled up the ingredients being mint leaves and chocolate and placed them on the table, he began to fill up the blender with milk and added coffee to the concoction, he then began to fill the rest of that up with ice, just around 5 ice cubes that were all clumped together like wet sugar - finally, he turned to the small blonde girl beside him and asked what she would like. "Do you prefer mint or chocolate, my dear? Or would you care to have both?" Firefly began to smile and then picked up the chocolate and began to put a copious amount of it into the blender. She then grasped a handful of mint leaves and tossed them into the makeshift cauldron." My dear - what you consider a lot and what I consider a lot are two different things, so let me add my own ingredients and you might get to share mine with me, okay sweetie?"

Then she closed the blender with her adorably small hands and held it shut, then set the contraption off with a mighty, mechanical roar. The fluid inside being thrown up while the grinding inside the plastic cage echoed throughout the room - ice cubes being shredded into tiny seedlings of the miniscule icebergs they used to be.

Soon, it was done, blended into a slushy paste and poured into two separate glasses. The two friends allowed a close proximity and a passionate dancing of eyes. Rather than drink their own, they both clinked the glasses together, each taking a mouthful of the glorious sickly nectar and closed the distance between their lips, tasting each other faintly in the refreshment and drank down their liquid love together, with but singular drops of the exotic liquid escaping the corners of their mouths with a dancing of tongues and quick inhales of breath with a finish to die for - swallowing of each other into themselves. Finally ingesting each other's enriched and flavor filled passion... and it was elegantly graceful and undeniably alluring.

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