I watched him from across the porch again. He was sitting on his favorite hammock by the terrace staring dreamily at his skin. From where I was seated I could tell she was feeling stressed, the lines had become jagged and stiff unlike the usual burst of color and enchanting portraits. As always, his face started to fall as the day died down, routinely he went inside and so did I.
My eyes burned holes into my skin as I gazed in the mirror, it's been years since some sort of line was etched into my skin. I kept thinking about the boy and how he glowed with hope every time she felt emotion. It was easy to tell she was very artistic from the way she painted it all on. Many times I had felt the need to approach him and demand an explanation for his silence. Why didn't he tried to contact her?
It was all so ridiculous to me, him having her at his disposal and never really reaching for her. If I was him I would never settle down with just the doodles, I'll track her down and find her. But then again in this world we are all scared of the way our skin fills with life momentarily when our other half expresses themselves. Maybe that's the reason He never doodles anymore...
I tried to clear my mind to no avail. My thoughts drifted to how I have tried everything, from jokes to poems to drawing to lines to messages. It was never enough to cause a reaction though. At this moment, I couldn't help but feel jealous of the boy and how easy he had it all. It is clear that the moment he engraves into his skin his desire to meet the girl will sketch a detailed map if that is what it take to unit them.
I know I shouldn't be so bitter, but bear with me because my story isn't as simple as his.
YOU ARE READING
Kalon
Teen FictionBEAUTY THAT IS MORE THAN SKIN-DEEP In a world where your soulmate's skin is connected to yours, an unstable girl will sets forth to discover why. What she doesn't know is just how deeply rooted this tradition is and just how dangerous knowledge can...
