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The winter was dead, 

as was she. 

She had waited and waited

for her prince to come

but no one ever dared

to break through the icy bricks

encasing her

and she was left 

frozen. 

I watched you come to life, 

breaking out of your shell, 

like a newborn butterfly. 

Wet wings soaked in frozen dust 

you had just woken up from an endless sleep

but with the tender thought

It’s made me truly think

Even though your eyes are open,

you could still be sound asleep. 

"Link… We shouldn’t be doing this." 

He was drunk, and you could just smell it on his breath. Coors Light and cigarettes, lethal overdose of Mary Jane, and white powder stained his cheek. “But I thought you wanted this…!” 

He kissed her softly on the cheek, making his way down to her neck. “I mean… I know you’re sick of being a virgin, Epona. Or is it true?” 

"H-huh?" Epona blinked, and Link licked behind her ear, making her twitch and melt over him. "Ahhh~…" 

"…Is it true…" He started pulling down the zipper of her metallic grey hoodie. "…That you’ve been sleeping around anyway?" 

You could hear the smile on his face. “Because if you have I’m going to have to punish you!” He giggled and began kissing her most sensitive spot, her collar bone. 

Epona held back a yell as he kissed it harder and harder and kept running his soaking wet tongue over it. She placed a hand on his chest and looked at his plain skull t-shirt that still had an old basement smell. It had been his brothers. 

"You didn’t loosen up the whole party!" Link had finished unzipping her sweater and he pulled it down her arms and let it drop behind her. "You never even had a drop of alcohol." He touched her bra strap and twisted it around his thin fingers. "But you’re such a dirty girl anyway." 

Epona looked away from him. He tried to peer over his shoulder, but the tears in her eyes made it hard to see. Link interrupted her vision to lay a smooch on her eyeliner-covered eyelids. She couldn’t stop blushing. 

"It’s okay. No one will find us. You just stand there and I’ll take care of everything." 

In the same way Epona couldn’t stop blushing, Link couldn’t stop smiling and talking. He had never been such a chatterbox before, but if you gave him a beer and access to all the pills in the Northside pharmacy he was set. 

Epona buried her face into Link’s shirt as he removed her bra and set it aside, rubbing up against her roughly. When it came to such close encounters everything was a turn-on, from a touch on the hand to a smooch on the forehead. It didn’t matter, as long as it was from someone she truly loved. 

"Link, please, don’t…" 

She could feel him fumbling with her skinny jeans. 

His shaggy blonde hair fell over his dead eyes and he pulled them down. “You’re not wearing panties, as usual~!” He pulls down only halfway, snickers, and gets on his knees, licking the front of her womanhood. She instinctively perks forward into him.

Epona feels his teeth as he moves his head and digs deeper into her cunt, licking up and down until the spikes of pleasure throughout her body. It was an endless electrical charge and she feels him drinking up  all her cream. 

His tongue pushes up into her front entrance and she has to clasp her hands over her mouth from the intense emotion boiling up inside her. He rams his tongue into her and thrusts as if it were his own hardness. It was truly difficult to tell the difference. 

"I-I think I’m gonna…" 

She trailed off, and she let her juices spill onto Link’s tongue and he slurped them up like a dog who hadn’t had a good meal in days. 

"You’re so delicious!" His overly positive expression as the only thing that left Epona smiling. She lowered her own fingers and felt her wetness pouring down at the cement below her. She trembled and bought them back up to Link. He kissed her fingers and Epona’s slickness poured down his chin

"Wanna go again?" 

Inspiration

I saw her standing all alone at the end of the room covered in swarming people, and her silhouette must had been caught on something, because she never moved. 

She had a strawberry margarita in one hand and a cheap cigarette in the other, and a shy expression, which she wouldn’t have too often. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, and when she turned to face me, although I had been wearing a mask, I couldn’t let our gazes touch. 

She had continued having her drink, 

she was just no social butterfly tonight 

and her milky dress spilled into the red carpet. 

as she tried to fade into the background. 

Yes, an unusual wallflower, less like me but all about me. Behind black and blue lace and sewed-on dry butterflies were deep jade eyes that called to me, yes, they spoke to me

No one knew who was behind the mask she was wearing, 

but I did, 

it had been the person I’d been looking for all night

and all my life. 

Adjusting my bowtie, 

braids,

and a heavy pastel milk skull mask

I began to walk towards her, and my breath was heavy.

Did she still love me? My head whispered to me. Will she run away, like everyone else? My dress shoes tapped slowly on the floor. Am I still beautiful to her? Paranoia, and my nerves had made steady perches on my shoulder. 

Everything felt so slow, the music, the excited screams, the heartbeat I had that I was sure should had been beating so hard it could burst out of my chest. 

Hope made its way into the sky, 

our eyes met,

and she lit up, 

her beautiful body, 

her lovely mind, 

and heavenly eyes, 

"It’s still all there, 

she’s still here.” 


And a smile, 

a smile as bright as a room of diamonds… 

It shone for me. 

"I’ve missed you…" 

"Still waiting?" 

Vivian’s head made a swift turn, and she was faced with a yellow eyed demon whose smile seemed to mock her very existence. Gracefully, the shadow walked out of the darkness, feet barely touching the ground, and a sweet airy smile floated its way to her, and she nearly backed off with a jump. 

"Oh, dear Ringleader, how long has it been now? Three hundred years? Three hundred years waiting for your friend to be set free?" 

His glassy stare stained the encased corpse. “Up here in your canvas, all alone? I’m not surprised you haven’t given up though… Always one to persist. So stubborn.” 

Vivian said nothing, her eyes averting back to the figure frozen in comatose. 

"It hasn’t been night for all of those years. Sun’s never fallen…" 

There came a low growl. 

"I hate it.” 

There came low breathing, and endless blinking, as if tears were trying to be held back. “So? No one else minds it. I don’t care if you don’t like it.” 

"You don’t?" The voice ran over to Vivian, and faded from one ear to the other. Her spine quivered. "I said I would no longer bring the night if she was not able to see it. I will not do it until I have her here with me. I just… I just can’t do it without her." 

The iris with the lunar eclipse reflected her hate inside, and they then darkened. “Let’s trade then.” 

What?

"If you want her back so bad, then let’s trade for her soul."

He held up one of his this thin grey hands, and made a fist, something dark and red seeping out of it. Blood? No… It was something else. “You don’t want her in a cocoon forever, right?” 

The red substance floated over to her, and it stopped in front of her, as if being stopped by some kind of invisible force. “Trade me your power, your love, your sanity, and I will trade you her soul.”

….

Study

Vivian had been pacing for hours. Her limp baton was held firmly between her pastel fingers as the cold metal tip went tap, tap, tap on the royal red carpet. She’d tapped and tapped, but no one listened in her Study. The doors were all closed and she was completely alone.

Even the birds were not there, they must had all been still overseas taking a longer break then usual for this year. Perhaps it was just still too cold to relax and say everything was sweet. 

But nothing had fallen sweet, no berry, jam cookie, or a stroke of genius in the study. The night was blistering with cold and the Spring flowers that Vivian had planted with her friend must had still been underground. 

And it happened, it happened before but not to her, but to her friend. She swore she’d read the book all right, she’d even done what everyone else did but for that June not a single stem rose from the enriched soil and she had received an F for the assignment being told that she’d been fooling around too much.

Sympathetically once Vivian had received the expected sparkling A she’d simply rolled her eyes at the teachers who praised her like some kind of perfect being and she’d given her friend the orange Snapdragon that had been sitting the farthest from the sun. 

"But you worked so hard to make it grow…"

She shrugged. “Not really. He was barely in the sun anyway. I’m surprised he even sprouted at all.” 

The flower never lasted more then a weak in the quiet apartment complex in a usually dank alley in the downtown area. The air was thick and musky so the windows had been kept all shut. The poor dragon breathed no fire, it had simply inhaled cigarette fumes and the scent of cheap beer. 

No one had ever had a funeral for a flower before [atleast in the city] so this had been the first. 

It took place outside the real cemetery and the service didn’t last more then five minutes. There was no priest to bless its poor soul, of whatever it had, and there was no words spoken. Just a few useless tears from a sad heart. It mostly wasn’t for the flower though. 

"I’m so sorry!" She’d rubbed her eyes and messy autumn hair fell over her eyes. "I killed it! I didn’t mean to! Oh, it’s all my fault!" 

To some consolation Vivian had been sweet enough to just hand over a hug and nothing more.

But now, Vivian had a home filled with flowers. Roses that hung of blue vines across the moss covered walls and tulip bouquets that reached to touch ceilings. They covered the home so dearly she feared they would swallow everything whole. 

Nothing could swallow her Study though, except maybe her books, all of them lined up wall to wall, floor and through the sun roof and maybe to the sky. And, maybe if her ladder reached high enough, she’d finally finish the Sherlock Holmes series. 

He’d been smoking in the other room, 

half living cigarette in one hand

and a Starbucks Green Tea Frappuccino in the other. 

A quiet concoction that could be deadly

but heavenly 

1

It was the first of the chilly May days in the city that still involved you walking about with long overcoats like detectives, and scarfs that touched the ground, instead of brightly-colored short sleeves, and thin skinny jeans. 

No one knew when the warm would arrive, but no one wanted to guess too soon either. The world could play tricks, and they weren’t too light with their jokes either. 

But it was an excuse, an excuse to not feel shaky or much so strange when putting on big double XL college sweaters and coal leggings with fuzzy boots and stand in the middle of the Underground waiting for a train to take you somewhere. 

Everyone else had been doing it, and there was no hiding that. 

The girl who had been no older then sixteen with her dull expression, her tired eyes, and a heavy bag of textbooks over her shoulder stood in the same domino black tile as usual, just in front of where her train should stop. 

Same routine every morning (except for most Saturdays and Sundays), was to become prepared at record speed with no gold medal, run to the subway station as fast as long legs could take you, watch out, with eagle eyes; for the train for departure, get on, and still end up a minute late to class everyday. 

By now the routine should have been unconscious, implanted in the mind and it shouldn’t had been thought of, but it was still there, still there with all the Anxiety it brought with it. It always had a big sinister smile doing so, as if to be saying: “I love to watch you suffer!” And it would chime, leaving with Anxiety by its side the train would make long cool stops there were the only reason she’d always been off on arrival. 

It was not unusual strangely at the time in the morning she was here, to see no one around but her shadow. And unsurprisingly on this morning, it was the same. The same vacancy, and the same quiet atmosphere. 

But, to her actual shock, her mind was quiet, which was impossible— it always had so many thoughts it could talk its own head off if it even had one— if heads had heads, they could drive their own selves crazy. 

But all in her mind was blankness as music blared from small white earphones and her boots fidgeted on the cold hard ground. When her mind went quiet, her mouth went quiet too, and her long eyelashes fluttered specks of liner onto her closes unknowingly, 

and the only indication that were train was there was the breeze her mind had jolted onto, and she was pushing lightly with another arm heading in the opposite direction. 

She had bit her lips, hard, staring at the shivering grey metal seats inside the train. It took no hesitation and she ran in, the doors closing just in time around her. 

"Another day…" She hushed under her breath, the only words she’d said that morning…

i don’t really think you like me anymore

you don’t say bye after we talk

and i feel more useless then before

If i’m just a burden, say it,

you won’t have to hear from me again

i swear that very soon

once you say it

i’ll finally disappear