The frost that cloaked her window reminded her of him. Beautiful, yet cold to the touch
You watch him and it's like looking into a frosted window.
He's cold, and blurry, and intricately beautiful all at the same time.
His midnight hair falls in inky waves across his head, and his slightly slanted eyes stare into the depths of people souls judging if they are worthy of his acknowledgment.
No, a boy like that is nothing average, and he doesn't deserve anything less than what he himself is- perfection.
He is untouchable. Even among his worshippers, his 'friends', He is a frosted window, and you are certain the frost has seeped into his heart.
You used to have the key to unlock his his heart, but he changed the locks.
He does exactly what you expect him to do. His eyes pass yours, and flit away in disinterest. To him, you are nothing. But to you, he is everything.
He cannot see you anymore.
You are dead to him.
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Hello! Here is the first 'chapter' to this story. It's short- as all these chapters will be mostly likely be- because I plan on making this a short story. Though I may have a good amount of chapter entries, the chapter itself will probably never be more than 500 words.
I am currently (re)writing this story as inspiration hits, but hopefully, as the story progressed and (re)grows, I will start with a weekly updating schedule.
I m p o r t a n t
Do we like the bolded pronouns? The first draft of this story had bolded pronouns and it got me a bit confused, but I'm hoping to clarify it this time. I don't really like the bolded myself, how do y'all feel about it?
YOU ARE READING
Mr. Misty Eyed
Short Story"Gangsters don't cry therefore I'm Mr. Misty Eyed" -Twenty One Pilots This book is a mess, read at your own risk. Wrote it a long time ago © Charlotte Écrivain
