There is a lot about me you don't know -Tales of Arcadia ENG

25- Wounds pt.2

TRACK 25

I drop to the floor like I did before

Stop watching, I'm coughing, I can't be more

What I want and what I need are at constant war

Like a well full of poison, a rotten core

The blood goes thin, the fever stings

(Blackbirds - Linkin Park)

********

Claire felt quite strange.

It was as if she kept going from sitting to lying down, but she didn't remember moving. She could hardly remember anything, to be completely honest.

From time to time she could hear a bell ringing, tinkling in the air with its crystal clear sound. Hearing it, for unclear reasons, brought her to attention every single time. As if she had to be attentive. As if it were an omen of some kind.

She found herself staring down below in one of yet another shift in position. Beneath her feet, which were wearing plain brown sandals, was wooden parquet flooring.

Part of her brain told her it was all frighteningly unusual. But every voice in her head tried to tell her that what was happening was not natural, well, it was being trampled by reasoning that was not her own. But that actually seemed to be hers. They were in her head, so why then were they not hers?

She was waiting for someone. Claire knew that. Claire knew that she was continuing to wait for that someone, but that he was making himself wait. And it sickened her that he was making her wait like that. It sickened her that they had promised each other a time for that meeting, but as usual, that person could not keep his promises.

She started to pace on the parquet floor nervously, ticking her fingers on the sleeve of the pastel yellow Hanfu that she was wearing. Her long hair was being shaken by the warm, somewhat agitated wind that arose from the South, where the sun was high but not particularly warm, covered by grayish clouds scattered across the sky. Perhaps it would have rained soon.

The new jingling of the bell caused her to raise her head sharply, her eyes searching among the red columns and unlit lamps dangling from the ceiling. The man she had been waiting for until that moment finally appeared. Finally.

Claire had no idea who he was, but at the same time, she knew it anyway. For whatever reason, she recognized his broad shoulders. She recognized his ebony-black hair, which was tied in a long, thick braid, resting on the left side of his neck, descending near to his waist. It would have been so easy to grab and cut them. To put him to shame because of it.

She recognized those eyes, always black, sickeningly soft. And those angular features were no less recognizable. They were a common trait of many people, yes, but in him , they seemed particularly pronounced.

"Shaoran." She found herself saying in greeting, lowering her head slightly. Her voice came out dry, but calm... And... And strangely masculine? What?

'Why is my voice like this?' She -She! Hello? Why was she sounding like that, seriously?- couldn't help but wonder in a small part of herself, even more confused as to what was going on. And always being forcibly chased away, as if it were an annoying fly that kept buzzing around her ears instead of something she had all the right to wonder about.

"Dalai." Replied the man, just as serious but more relaxed than Claire -Dalai?- nodding in turn. He then conjoined his own arms, going to press his palms together, but not intertwining his fingers. "As usual you're right on time."