Here is a little excerpt of a story I was working on.
I would appreciate your criticism. No need to try and be nice, I don't take things to heart.
c:
I would appreciate your criticism. No need to try and be nice, I don't take things to heart.
c:
He was only enjoying the night, he told himself, as he strolled lazily through the forest that was as familiar to him as his own body. He certainly wasn’t thinking about her. And even if he was, he definitely wasn’t planning on seeing her, against his fathers wishes. He might not have been much of a prodigal son, but he’d be damned if he’d let a woman come between him and the goals that have been set out for him. His father certainly wasn’t sneaking off in the middle of the night to meet a woman he wasn’t aloud to be with when he was his age. His father had responsibilities -- obligations. Such duties as he now had, as the heir to the thrown, that he was neglecting, or, rather, doing the complete opposite of by allowing himself to leave in the middle of the evening to go to her.
He let his finger tips graze the bark of the trees as he passed them, tilted his nose up slightly and taking a deep breath of the earthy scent that spring had brought with her. He closed his eyes as he swerved casually through the trees, the maze of wildlife all but tattooed to his brain. The cherry blossoms bloomed overhead, mixing almost dizzily with the scent of the azalea’s growing at his feet. He heard nothing but the soft murmur of bugs and animals and the cushioned thump of his feet on the freshly dewed green grass.
He stopped at the crisp scent of running water and opened his eyes to his paradise. The stream ran down the side of the hill as far as the eye could see, and reached up, almost to the peak. It was not very wide, nor long, but the flowers that bloomed here were a splatter of fluorescent colors, an artists palette. The stars twinkled in the water and sent light shimmering against the flower petals. The crescent moon hung low in the sky, mostly hidden by the trees in the reflection in the water. Sitting with his legs bent at the knee, he leaned back against a sturdy enough tree and tried to focus on all the beautiful things around him.
Who was he kidding? Since the first time he laid eyes on her, it was like the earth had lost some color. The beauty of nature paled in comparison to her. Even as he snapped a flower at its stem and brought it to his nose he could not smell it, not truly. For he had tasted the most delectable scent on earth only two days before, and the memory of it still burned on his tongue.
