Song: ~Overture~ Brotherhood from FMA Brotherhood OST
He had always measured how healthy a person was by their collarbones. Or rather, by their clavicles, those bones visible just under the neck. He always went for the ones whose bones were just about defined. They were almost always quite healthy, and were very conscious of what they put in their foods.
So when she came to his studio to be photographed, he was instantly smitten by her. There was the slightest hint of makeup. Her skin was a healthy golden brown. Hair fell past the shoulders in glorious, unbounded waves. It was her clavicles that attracted his eyes when she removed the scarf though. They were delicate, yet well-defined. He stared.
“Is something the matter, sir?” she asked. “I’ve got a class to go to in a minute.”
“Oh yes, sorry miss. Now, if you’ll just look here and tilt your head up a little… that’s right.”
She never did make it to class, though her scarf hung in his closet, along with the items from his other… feedings.
Song: Trust Me~ Instrumental by Yuya Matshushita
He was waiting for her when she left the studio. With a disdainful look, she turned away upon seeing him. He followed her, chatting nonchalantly. She refused to pay him any heed, until he said the magic words.
“I know what makes you tick,” he said in his most charming manner.
She stopped in her tracks, with a disbelieving look on her face. Without warning, she raised a hand to slap him. It left a red mark on his face.
Two months later, he proposed to her in the middle of a library, with the fateful words.
“You’re language. Rhythm and dance are but expressions of the same verbal intonations. That is what makes you tick. Expressions, is what a human being is, the expression of everything and nothing,” he went down on one knee while she was shelving some books. She smiled.
They were married in a museum. He had spent his life knowing her. She had spent hers gathering knowledge. Would it be surprising then, that their first child was born in an astronomical observatory?
In 20 words or less
Prompt by LibraryTux (#nanowrimo)
He loves his country.
That man means what he says.
“Trust me,” he says. “I’m here.”
And so rose Germany.
Song: Cruel Angel’s Thesis, Remix, from Gal Trance Party
The hill stood alone. From where she stood, the crack of the bats were unusually loud. She watched them play, a smile on her lips. Among those below, a boy playing in his first cricket game, was her son. He looked strong, eager, and happy. Watching his game, she fixed it in her memory. She would not scream. It would dishonur his memories.
Turning, she walked away from the hill to the sea’s edge. There, the setting orange sun shone in her eyes. With a smile, she stepped off the cliff. And soon disappeared.
They never did find her body.
Song: Doll by Scandal
Note: Inspired too, by Tentabunny’s fic
“This… will take quite some time.”
The look she gave him told him she trusted in him completely. It also pleaded with him. He sighed. Of course he would do it for her.
“Come back, in 5 days. They’ll be ready for you then,” he turned away from her, taking the bag with him.
“Thank you, grandpapa,” she whispered, before running out his shop. The tinkling of the bell over the shop’s door marked the end of his life, the old man thought.
She came back, exactly 5 days later, at the hour she had left his shop. He had the news on, the newscaster droning about the man found with no hands. She looked unrepentant. The man, after all, had not survived the surgery. He was being buried. The old man looked meaningfully at her.
“An hour’s sunlight at most. No more. Then they’ll be as warm as you like,” he passed the bag over the counter.
She took them out. They were beautiful. Each nail was clean. The skin was wonderful to touch. There was no smell, no blood. To her surprise, the fingers were also flexible. The whole pair was. She looked at the old man in amazement.
“You asked me to give it some life,” was all he said.
“Thank you, Grandpapa!” she reached over and kissed his cheek, before stuffing the bag into her duffel bag and running out.
He sighed, and turned away. The obsessive love she had… must have come from home. He wept.
Original entry as appearing at Reach Into Your Soul.