ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
"I don't want to be bothered by the press and fans."
"I get you; it must be a burden to have someone famous in the family."
Famous is a euphemism for three world wars: Two known to man and a millennium war. My brother is a legend.
Inna looks afar, "wow, the sky is beautiful tonight."
The moon shines bright and reflects on Inna's face. Her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose seem to glow. Inna is wrong; the most beautiful thing tonight is her. She has no idea how special she is; Inna is a rarity. Her mind is full of uncertainties about herself. It surprises me to discover she has been avoiding me for Aurora's sake.
Inna shifts her gaze to me, "what is it?"
"yo'r/ˈprɪti/."
It's the second time I attempt to express myself with words.
Her cheekbones rise, and now that I can see her mind, I realize she isn't indifferent to me. Yet, she blocks out any logic that relates to the attraction. Flattered to know I appeal to her, I too have a human reaction and become a victim of a blush.
Inna's mind appeases more than I imagined. It's filled with pleasant thoughts, but there's something strange behind her childhood memories. A blindspot in the shape of a door, this is not a metaphor. I'm talking about a genuine black door with a doorknob. I advance and place my hand on the knob. My hands begin to burn, and I realize the material resembles Inna's artifact.
Who are you, Inna?
Tarnish words come to mind, "the priceless one."
The theory is unacceptable as she should already be dead or a prisoner in the Hawks headquarters. The organization would never let one roam free to tempt the species unless it's too powerful to be caught.
I watched the Memorium; Inna was powerless. The dream absorbed her.
Inna's reflections about Jesus interrupt me. I laugh and react spontaneously, "don't worry, my brother would have noticed you even if you wore a muumuu," I sign.
Inna giggles," oh gosh, don't tell me. I said it out loud."
She didn't, but I can't tell her I read her mind.
Tarnish did a great job, Inna doesn't remember a thing, but I have no choice. Though I enjoy the moment, I must lock myself out once more.
"Where's your pendant?"
"In my pocket."
"You should not take it off."
"Wow, you sound like my mom."
"I'm sorry, it's vital, Inna," I follow up my words with a grasp of her shoulders. Inna turns her stare to see where I posed my hands. Touching her leaves a weird sensation similar to déja Vu.
