We all know how the tales go. But what if some stories slipped right by you?
Quasimodo and Snow White, individuals on opposite ends of the scale. Snows life dominated by her weak, crumbling father and scheming, devious stepmother. A life in a villa...
By now the morning was well and truly here. It peaked shyly overhead but did not rise much higher as the cold simple was too much for any heat to pass through. Locals opened their shutters, unlocked their doors and began their quiet morning work load. No real smiles or polite conversations had passed by the citizens in recent weeks as any talk of any kind, they feared would result in more unwanted attention from the minister and his narrow minded guards. It was fair to say that all sense of free will and democracy had never been further from Paris. Having been under the thumb of Frollos totalitarian regime for more than twenty years, Paris feared that for how far they had come now...there was no way that it would ever revert back. Not that their previous way of living under Frollo had been in anyway comforting or equal, but at least they could lay their heads at night and know that they were safe from any animosity. They chugged along almost robotic like, machines...so automatic an existence.
As the none animated actions of the townspeople had altered the dark and forever feeling mood of melancholy lingered down below, high up Quasimodo had just finished ringing the morning bells while still rather vexed about his feelings from last night. Whilst swinging and jumping from rope to rope, the speed that his heart beat had not dropped below that of someone who had just ran a mile. He still felt as if his stomach had dropped out of his body, while his head spun thinking over how he saw Snow and if they were merely Platonic or of a romantic nature. But the harder he thought or the more he saw her, the easier the decision seemed to be. Quasi soon decided that now was not to the right time to make such a decision as other things needed to happen before he could ever fully say them out loud.
Ups! Gambar ini tidak mengikuti Pedoman Konten kami. Untuk melanjutkan publikasi, hapuslah gambar ini atau unggah gambar lain.
Climbing down from the top of the rafters, Quasi soon landed back in the bell tower and as he walked as casually as he could without it seeming obvious that he had a lot on his mind, he could see across the way, Snow sitting on a stool with her legs crossed and swinging in the midst of her concentration. While they had been searching through the boxes of unused treasures, Snow had came across an old but empty sketchbook to which she asked if she could have it. Her eyes remained transfixed on the book in front of her as she sat with a pencil in hand doing what appeared to be drawing. Intricately she skimmed the pencil back and forth, while he eyes squinted together as she seemed hypnotised.
Quasi hoovered in the dark watching her a little longer then silently giggled as he watched he so engrossed in what she was doing. It seemed almost as if she had no clue that anyone was watching, doing her own thing and pulling no punches trying to hide her lips that pulled tighter like a ducks. Suddenly her expression changed to a bright smile as she leaned back to analyse her creation, whatever it was. While blowing away the contents of the dust from the pencil, Quasi walked nonchalantly a relaxed walk, pretending that had not been watching her.
"Good morning!" He said semi confidently, whistling once or twice as he entered.
"Oh morning Quasi!" She exclaimed, looking at him swiftly with a grin before returning to her book.
