SNUGGLED UNDER MOUNTAINS OF FLUFFY AND CHUNNK BLANKETS IN FRONT OF THE FIRE PLACE LAY THE SMITH SISTERS, Yona hummed lightly in her sleep and Gola leaned into her tenderly as she skimmed a book. With a huff of frustration or rather defeat she slammed her book closed, unable to focus on a story of foolish young high school love when her mind was running rampant with the events of earlier that day.
"Little bear?" Gola whispered to yona, rubbing her thumb in circles on her cheek.
Yona stirred lightly, pulling the blankets closer to her chest. This made Gola chuckle in adornment. She pressed a kiss to Yona's forehead before slowly slipping from under the blankets. Her lace night dress drizzled in mint chocolate macaroon crumbs.
Shamelessly she popped one in her mouth as she began her decent down the steps.
Much of the mansion flickered with a dim orangish glow and smelled richly of floral fragrance and vanilla.
Although only one candlelight danced in Gola's bitterly wintery room.
Why was it always so freezing in there?
Not that it mattered, she wouldn't be staying in the ice box with a bed for long. She just needed her laptop so she could watch a movie.
Frantically she stormed around her room, throwing, huling and heaving anything in her way. Despite trying to, it was hard for her not to notice the bedroom loosing it's last remnants of heat which were draining rapidly.
"Found it!" she cheered, whipping an imaginary cold sweat from her brow and slinging the computer for her backpack wide open. And thank god it's fully charged!
Swiftly she slammed it shut. Rushing to her feet in a feeble attempt to avoid seeing or hearing anything that she didn't want too. Anything that shattered her mundane panorama.
All in vain of course. As soon as she turned around she saw 'him' standing idly in her doorway.
Waiting.
He was waiting in the wind.
Anyone else might have mistaken 'him' as her shadow or theirs but he was always a little off. Not because he couldn't slipp into the mold of you seamlessly and soundlessly. But more because he wanted you to see him. He wanted to taunt you into terror, he wanted for you to cower in his shadow of dread.
Just one of his wicked games.
Though her breath caught in her throat she clenched her fist. "I'm not afraid of you." she snapped, absolutely terrified.
He chuckled. A low husky sound that melt into the night like a silken breeze.
The shadow that stood in front of her once looked like the silhouette of herself, with the outline of her breast, long fluffy hair and hips but now they contorted and warped uncannily. The shadow grew to outline a leggy gentleman with one hand held sagely behind him and the other reached out to Gola.
'take my hand.' The wind seemingly demanded or pleaded. it was hard to tell. 'take my hand.'
Fleetingly she wondered if it was he who spoke with caress of the wind. Then immediately after she remembered the urgency of the situation.
