The Raven

Five

Like a regular habit, the raven loses himself to daydreams as he sits on the sill of the window in his always dark tower room. As he absently gazes out at the vast gardens below, he briefly wonders what it would be like to fly over the tall trees, sink his claws into the earth, to touch the delicate flower petals. He can almost feel it if he concentrates enough, the whimsy of his most cherished daydream. His heart sings as he imagines the feeling of the air sliding over his smooth feathers as he soars across the endless sky, dipping himself down to inhale the scent of the lovely red roses lining the concrete walkways. He can almost guarantee that they smell magical. He can practically see himself effortlessly gliding through the thick trees with his black wings glinting blue in the sunlight that seeps between them. As Raven's dreams take him on another new adventure, something in the garden catches his eye--or rather, someone.

His gaze locks onto the movement at first, his eyes dazedly watching the feet donning formal black shoes as they step carefully over the concrete. His eyes travel upward, following the long legs clad in perfectly tailored dark blue trousers, the gentle sway of the stranger's hips with every lower limb extension. Two hands hang loosely at the person's sides, hardly moving from their position. A broad chest and wide shoulders are hidden beneath a crisp, white shirt. The raven continues the ascent of his sight, intently zeroing in on the face of the mesmerizing stranger. Unable to tear his gaze away, the raven just stares at the unfamiliar man, unblinkingly drinking in the sight of him. His eyes roam over the hair, golden as sunshine, curling at the ends and dancing gently in the breeze. It is difficult to see from such a great distance, but Raven is sure that the boy is likely very handsome; he longs to get a closer look, to carefully caress every feature of his face with his gaze. It appears that the boy's skin tone is slightly golden, as well, possibly due to genetics, but more probably an effect of spending time in the sun. A pang of jealousy shoots through the raven's insides, temporarily squeezing his heart at the thought of spending even a few moments in the bare warmth of the sun's rays.

The Raven simply sits there, slightly awed and wholly enraptured. Silently, he observes, enchanted, watching as the young man strolls through the grounds; if his posture and body language are anything to go by, the handsome stranger looks distracted and possibly sad. He seems lonely, a feeling Raven can understand completely, yet his heart aches for the other boy despite this recognition. Perhaps because he thoroughly understands the darkened and consuming depths of loneliness. After several minutes of studying him, the boy finally glances in the raven's direction, his gaze flittering up to the top of the tall tower. The raven's heart stutters momentarily before resuming an irregular rhythm, the idea that the other boy could possibly see him both terrifying and exciting him simultaneously. And significantly. Surely it is too dark in the room for the boy to notice him, right? But what if... could this boy be the one to save him? Could he possibly be the one destined to rescue him from this prison, finally giving him his freedom?

He certainly looks like a charming prince, if that is any indication.

Letting out a deep sigh, Raven closes his eyes for a moment, shaking the entirely fantastical thoughts from his head. It is just a silly dream, he realizes. This handsome stranger will not be his knight in shining armor; he could not possibly be, for the raven knows he is far too disturbing in appearance for anyone to fall in love with. Love is just a hopeless dream, anyway. No, even if someone would someday arrive at his tower room door, he or she would likely just flee in the opposite direction of him, his gruesome face enough to strike fear into the hearts of even the bravest men. There is not enough courage or strength in the world to withstand his repulsive appearance. The raven will never be rescued; he will never earn his freedom. He will never step foot outside the walls of the confining tower; he knows this. The realization causes a throbbing in his heart.

Perhaps he should listen to his mother and put aside all ridiculous and childish daydreaming permanently; maybe then he will have some sort of reprieve from the hurt it inflicts upon him when he realizes they will never come true.

A single tear rolls down the raven's cheek as he forcefully separates himself from those thoughts, wholly disregarding the utterly delusional hope of being saved from his captivity. He shoves aside the burning fear of being rejected, burying it in the back of his mind where it can no longer harm him for today. It pains him to know that he will never be loved, never be wanted. It is a pain that hurts excruciatingly, profoundly, deep within his soul; it is a hurt that stings even more so than the pain of his mother's whip and her harsh words combined.

Taking one final look at the young man in the garden, Raven turns away from the window, removing himself from any more heinous daydreams. He would prefer not to think about any more of that right now; he should be practicing, anyway, before his mother catches him. A shudder creeps down his spine at the thought, his muscles tensing at the reminder of her cruel punishments when he does not perform to her standards; it is not something he would like to repeat today.

Or ever, really.

Breathing deeply, he distances himself from the window, allowing physical space to separate his mind from the unattainable wonders of what lies just beyond the glass. With every step, there is a tug in his chest, as if something tethered to his heart is pulling him right back. It is almost magnetic, some sort of polar effect disallowing his leave. It is as if his heart is begging him to remain for some reason. The strain the odd connection causes on his physical form has the raven swiftly shifting into his feathered version, his elegant bird tilting its head in frustration. Raven is undoubtedly sure that he does not like whatever is happening here; inexplicable occurrences are definitely not his favorite, however astonishing they might be.

In an attempt to overcome the irritating and unknown imaginary restraints, the raven inches closer to the window; however, he still refuses to return his gaze to the beautiful boy below. He feels the pressure in his chest easing slightly, and a rushed exhale of relief escapes him. Settling himself down onto the floor, he tucks into himself, allowing the release of tension to soothe him to sleep.