Post Reply My Xmas Present
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Posted 1/10/09 , edited 9/2/09
Here is the first one. It's still in process and I will update it when I finish it. Please read and critique.




12:01am

She first saw him sitting at the bar, swirling his brandy with a limp hand. His posture was slumped and dark russet locks hid his eyes but did little to conceal the long elegant nose and full lips. His skin tone suggested a Native American or a Spanish heritage and it glowed warmly under the soft orange light cast from the creamy white ceiling. That night he was wearing a black woolen top and the raised sleeves revealed slim wrists and long elegant fingers that tapped against his glass relentlessly. Faded blue jeans hugged his hips and she noticed that he had a soft spot for a pair of worn Adidas sneakers. He was sitting absolutely still, hardly moving a muscle except for the tapping that gradually increased in tempo as each second passed. She thought perhaps he was waiting for a woman. Maybe that was why he was so restless. She also noted the empty bar stool that resided next to him. She could almost imagine a luscious blonde woman in a shimmering crimson dress just sitting there, sipping on her fifty dollar cocktail and talking seductively to him in a low chocolate voice. She smiled and shook her head slightly. Even if he was meeting a woman, it wasn’t her place to judge him so without even talking to him.
Hence she was surprised to see him looking at her with deep dark pools of eyes that sparkled with a warmth that she couldn’t understand. He gave her a small smile that sent her heart fluttering and he cocked his head at the empty stool next to him.
Come hither.
Her breath hitched sharply in her throat and she nodded, heart pounding now and a flush slowly creeping into her pale cheeks. She stood up from her lonely table and grabbed her black handbag, excitement rapidly increasing and at the same time trying to compose herself. He was grinning now as she sat down on that empty bar stool and she ordered her drink in a steady voice.
“Heineken please,” she smiled. The universal drink.
He raised an eyebrow approvingly and raised his glass at her before swallowing down the rest of the golden liquid. He sat his empty glass down and motioned for the barman to fetch him another drink.
“Why is a woman such as yourself doing in a place like this?” His voice was deep and warm, yet there was a hint of gravel in it as well.
She shrugged and ran a hand through her auburn hair. “I could ask you the same thing.”
A soft laugh and he nodded his thanks at the barman who handed him his drink. “I’m searching,” was his simple answer, “and you?”
“I’m searching as well.” She took her drink from the barman and took a long sip. The cool liquid slid down her throat and refreshed her immensely.
“What are you searching for? If I may be so blunt.”
“That is very blunt.”
“Apologies.”
“I’m searching for my place in life.” Another sip.
“Ah, that search.”
“You know of it?”
He smiled and he took a swig. “Yes,” he replied, “I know of it. I went on that search a few years ago myself.”
Eyebrows raised and interest stirred, she leaned forward. “How did it turn out?”
A grimace. “Very badly.”
“What happened?”
“I lost myself even more.”
“How is that even possible?”
“Oh, it’s very possible.”
“Tell me.”
“No, no. It will just deter you.”
“Tell me.”
A short pause. Then, “I sold my soul.”
She stared hard at him for a few minutes before leaning back. She took a few sips of her drink, processing what he had just said. Was he pissing around with her? Somehow she had a feeling that he was dead serious.
“What happened?”
He averted his gaze and stared at the bar with clouded eyes.
“I was engaged,” he began softly, “and I was the happiest man alive. Then fate came in and stole my life.”
She knew what was coming.
“She was killed in a school shooting.” A somber pause then a watery smile. “She was an English teacher. Taught all the classics. Shakespeare, Edgar Poe, Jane Austen, Dickens, Emily Bronte.”
“She sounds like a very intelligent woman,” she commented.
“Oh yes, she was very intelligent. Outwitted me in every debate we had.” He gave a soft chuckle at the fond memory. “We used to argue about the politics of modern society and how history had affected it. Somehow she always managed to connect politics to the philosophy of human perception on animals.”
She laughed and raised her drink, “I admire her already.”
“Yes,” he gave her a strange look, “I expect you would.”
This time she took a long swig.
“And that was when you went on your search?” She asked, setting her drink down onto the mahogany bar with a dull ‘thunk’.
He nodded, “Yes I did indeed. I thought I would get answers. I thought I would be able to talk to Fate itself. Maybe I could have asked it why it did something so cold hearted when I didn’t even do anything at all to agitate it? But of course my own words were hypocritical, as I was agitating Fate by searching for Fate.”
She nodded.
“I saw her first sitting at the bar, drinking brandy as I am right now. She was the most mysterious, most beautiful thing I had ever seen. She took my breath away and made me feel something. She was the only person who had the ability to make me feel after my fiancé died.” He gazed into her eyes, guilt flashing in them as he pleaded with her silently, begging for her to understand before he told her what happened next. She gave him a warm smile and he retreated, relieved and ready to relay the next part of the story.
“I couldn’t help myself. It was a cold, snowy night and I was so lonely. The feel of her warmth was the closest thing to happiness than I had ever been for the last two years. Happiness was the fuel for the warmth that had resided so readily in my heart when my fiancé was alive. It died along with her and I was, am, and never will be truly warm again.”
The air was still and humid from the blazing fire in the lounge and yet the warm orange lights, which emitted a homely glow in the bar, cast cold shadows down onto his face. He looked so very lonely.
“I understand,” she said softly, and he looked up at her, startled, his large soft brown eyes searching her own sharp blue eyes for the full honesty of her words. When he found it, he blinked and his eyes unclouded and came back into focus.
“You do?” He asked, sounding awfully like a vulnerable child.
She nodded. “I do. But that doesn’t answer my original question. How and why did you sell your soul?”
“Ah, but I did answer your question.”
She blinked.
“After that night, I woke up and suddenly a revelation hit me. It hit me so hard and so unexpectantly that I started weeping.”
“Weeping? That must’ve been one big revelation.”
“Yes, it was. I came to the realization that I had sold my soul, my search, in exchange for a bit of human warmth.” He grimaced and took a swig. “After that revelation I felt the most painful thing any human being could ever experienced.”
“Which was?”
He looked at her. “A cold, empty heart.”
She stared at him, taken aback. “So this was when…?”
“Yes. This was when I started my new search. My new journey that after three long years, I am still on,” he smiled. “I am searching for my soul.”
“Ah…your soul.” She failed to say anymore.
And so went the next hour.

1:01am

“You never really told me why you are searching for your place in life,” he said.
“Does it matter?” She raised an eyebrow and pushed her warm drink to the side, suddenly void of any appetite to consume anything at all.
“Well…” he flashed her a half hearted smile, “I am interested.”
“Your interest interests me,” she said, pokerfaced.
“Well then, you may proceed.”
She sighed and ran a hand through her hair before resting her eyes on his intensely dark gaze.
“I hardly know you,” she pointed out, stalling.
He held out a slender hand, “Hart.”
“Hart?” She raised her eyebrows in conspicuous cynicism.
He flashed her an honest grin. She reluctantly took his hand and told him, “Maia.”
“Maia…” He said her name as if he was savoring it, tasting it from every possible angle. She blushed and hid a small smile.







Continued...
















Writer
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Posted 1/10/09
again.
another awesome thing
courtesy of the one and only xxuseless-bulletsxx
just continue on.
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Posted 1/11/09





























MAN!! WHAT ARE YOU DOİNG? HOW DO YOU DO THIS???

Omg Yuki, f**k! it was sooo good, it was so so good! Look at this pls:


His skin tone suggested a Native American or a Spanish heritage and it glowed warmly under the soft orange light cast from the creamy white ceiling.


I dont even know what to say... I am stunned... Dont ever stop Yuki..


Editor
2823 cr points
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Posted 1/11/09
LOL!! xDD Your comment has given me new energy to keep on writing!! Thank you!

Group Leader
23306 cr points
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Posted 1/11/09
you are welcome, I am your willing cheerleader
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