Mirrored Magic
folder
Romance › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
994
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Romance › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
994
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Hands [] sdnaH
Hands sdnaH
Marietta Potts was in school the next day, but she had changed.
Her eyes were still glazed, and withdrawn, much like Elita\'s often were but especially so. When she walked by Elita\'s on the way to their first class her movements seemed mechanical, and forced, her skin was pale and her expression weary.
Brenda and Charlotte didn\'t notice.
Elita did.
Ever since she could remember Elita had always held a special place for magic. Whether it was mundane card tricks, or faerie spells she always was in awe of its power and grace. How it was such a disruption to the natural flow of life was so unreal, so beautiful that she was entranced by it. She always concoted little tales that were strong in magic and wizardry, however for all of her fascination with it she never realized one thing.
That magic was sometimes bad.
To her, magic was the balance in a world of stiff upper lips, hurt and blandness, It was neither good, nor bad, it was simply magic.
Gently shouldering her satchel Elita slowly made her way to Mrs. Pickingham\'s class, a very large part of her hoping that Evan would be there.
She wasn\'t disappointed, his eyes as per usual latched onto her tiny frame as soon as she walked through the threshold of the class. A barrage of insults greeted her, shyly making her way to her seat, her smiled faltered when she saw the familiar furious look in his eyes. Her hand flew to her lips and her worried eyes looked at him.
Maybe he was like her Aunty Coralie.
She certainly hoped he wasn\'t.
Sensing her hesitation, he frowned slightly and clearly whispered, \"Sit.\" his voice was commanding yet soft. Blushing, she sat down tucking some loose tendrils of mousy brown behind her ears. That voice: slow, melodious, it was like each word was weighted and tasted in his tongue before he let it loose. It was like the most wonderous music.
She felt his bony fingers press into her back, as he made his way up her back she let out a quiet sigh. He started tracing a pattern that she quickly recognized as a
flower, he then continued his exploration of her back. Letting his fingers firmly slide across each individual vertebrae, her stomach quivered slightly and she sighed a little louder.
A student from the back broke through the peaceful smoke clouding Elita\'s mind, \"Where\'s Mrs. Pickyham?\"
As if on cue, the large lady bustled in panting, her face red with one hand clasping her bountiful bosom. \"S-sorry children.\" she gasped, and took a few deep breaths to regain her breath and promptly started the first lesson of the day 30 minutes late.
His left hand made it\'s way to her left shoulder and circled it gently. Leaning her back against the front of Evan\'s desk, she reached out with her right hand and captured his left she drew it to her as close as she could, she felt him shuffle forward and if the close hot air was any indication she realized that he must have leant forward. Taking the limp hand in both of her hands she turned it palm face up and looked at the tapered fingers and slender shape, with a look of intense concentration she traced her fingers down the incredibly long life line.
\"Elita...\" he whispered into her ear.
She shuddered, and continued exploring his hand, holding it gently with one and tracing it with the other.
\"Elita Coralie!! Unhand Mister. Blake this instant!\"
Releasing her grip from his hand she sadly felt the soft skin slide back to its owner, and felt a wrench of seperation rip through her lungs. She twisted a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her face and let it go, watching it unravel, pouting her lips so they touched it she opened her mouth to close over the folliciles, and started to chew on it. Picking up a pencil she rolled it from one end of the desk to the other, her face tinged with pink and her breathing slightly uneven.
Unlike the previous day he attended all the classes after that, touching her back and stroking her hair.
By the time Elita went home her face was as pink as sugarplums and her breathing so heavy and irregular that she felt like she was drowning.
She later discovered a tiny piece of paper folded into her bag:
Elita,
Meet me, tonight at 8.
Where you dance in the rain
R&R please!
A/N
Anon - Thanks!
Sum1zGurlie - Thanks for the review, I will certainly try and get an update for Distorted Stance, thank you for your appreciation of both fics!
RedSnake - Thank you, I will try and keep up with updating on regular basis. This muse is quite strong, so it shouldn\'t be a problem.
~*~*~*~ - That was purely coincidental :) Indeed, it is very weird. Thanks for the..interesting review.
Cass - Thank you! That was the feeling I was going for. It will be slightly dark in coming chapters, but it will still retain it\'s whimsical attributes.
Keep those reviews coming! Flames are not welcome. Constructive Criticism is.
Marietta Potts was in school the next day, but she had changed.
Her eyes were still glazed, and withdrawn, much like Elita\'s often were but especially so. When she walked by Elita\'s on the way to their first class her movements seemed mechanical, and forced, her skin was pale and her expression weary.
Brenda and Charlotte didn\'t notice.
Elita did.
Ever since she could remember Elita had always held a special place for magic. Whether it was mundane card tricks, or faerie spells she always was in awe of its power and grace. How it was such a disruption to the natural flow of life was so unreal, so beautiful that she was entranced by it. She always concoted little tales that were strong in magic and wizardry, however for all of her fascination with it she never realized one thing.
That magic was sometimes bad.
To her, magic was the balance in a world of stiff upper lips, hurt and blandness, It was neither good, nor bad, it was simply magic.
Gently shouldering her satchel Elita slowly made her way to Mrs. Pickingham\'s class, a very large part of her hoping that Evan would be there.
She wasn\'t disappointed, his eyes as per usual latched onto her tiny frame as soon as she walked through the threshold of the class. A barrage of insults greeted her, shyly making her way to her seat, her smiled faltered when she saw the familiar furious look in his eyes. Her hand flew to her lips and her worried eyes looked at him.
Maybe he was like her Aunty Coralie.
She certainly hoped he wasn\'t.
Sensing her hesitation, he frowned slightly and clearly whispered, \"Sit.\" his voice was commanding yet soft. Blushing, she sat down tucking some loose tendrils of mousy brown behind her ears. That voice: slow, melodious, it was like each word was weighted and tasted in his tongue before he let it loose. It was like the most wonderous music.
She felt his bony fingers press into her back, as he made his way up her back she let out a quiet sigh. He started tracing a pattern that she quickly recognized as a
flower, he then continued his exploration of her back. Letting his fingers firmly slide across each individual vertebrae, her stomach quivered slightly and she sighed a little louder.
A student from the back broke through the peaceful smoke clouding Elita\'s mind, \"Where\'s Mrs. Pickyham?\"
As if on cue, the large lady bustled in panting, her face red with one hand clasping her bountiful bosom. \"S-sorry children.\" she gasped, and took a few deep breaths to regain her breath and promptly started the first lesson of the day 30 minutes late.
His left hand made it\'s way to her left shoulder and circled it gently. Leaning her back against the front of Evan\'s desk, she reached out with her right hand and captured his left she drew it to her as close as she could, she felt him shuffle forward and if the close hot air was any indication she realized that he must have leant forward. Taking the limp hand in both of her hands she turned it palm face up and looked at the tapered fingers and slender shape, with a look of intense concentration she traced her fingers down the incredibly long life line.
\"Elita...\" he whispered into her ear.
She shuddered, and continued exploring his hand, holding it gently with one and tracing it with the other.
\"Elita Coralie!! Unhand Mister. Blake this instant!\"
Releasing her grip from his hand she sadly felt the soft skin slide back to its owner, and felt a wrench of seperation rip through her lungs. She twisted a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her face and let it go, watching it unravel, pouting her lips so they touched it she opened her mouth to close over the folliciles, and started to chew on it. Picking up a pencil she rolled it from one end of the desk to the other, her face tinged with pink and her breathing slightly uneven.
Unlike the previous day he attended all the classes after that, touching her back and stroking her hair.
By the time Elita went home her face was as pink as sugarplums and her breathing so heavy and irregular that she felt like she was drowning.
She later discovered a tiny piece of paper folded into her bag:
Elita,
Meet me, tonight at 8.
Where you dance in the rain
R&R please!
A/N
Anon - Thanks!
Sum1zGurlie - Thanks for the review, I will certainly try and get an update for Distorted Stance, thank you for your appreciation of both fics!
RedSnake - Thank you, I will try and keep up with updating on regular basis. This muse is quite strong, so it shouldn\'t be a problem.
~*~*~*~ - That was purely coincidental :) Indeed, it is very weird. Thanks for the..interesting review.
Cass - Thank you! That was the feeling I was going for. It will be slightly dark in coming chapters, but it will still retain it\'s whimsical attributes.
Keep those reviews coming! Flames are not welcome. Constructive Criticism is.