Garden|Yeonbin

Tredici

What are his true intentions?

What are hidden between his hands that were sinning?

The question burned in his head, flames filling it with more agitation and shock. Did the peasant do that just to mock him?

Just to hurt his feelings?

Just to wound the growing feelings he has started to accumulate within himself?

It burned him alive, eating his flesh while leaving his heart behind. It was engraved in him, taking in the usual sight of the familiar stranger snatching his friends.

It happened repeatedly,

But he couldn't do something.

Why couldn't he do something? He was doubting himself, his body and his mind.

He sat on his usual seat, the disturbing sensation of grass growing used to him instead of the possible opposite. He put his head on his palm, hugging his knees while his eyes situated at the tall fence guiding his wonderland.

The moon was being looked at longingly, ignoring the masked man that was silently adoring it. Nature befriended him, making him rise up to conquer the cruelties of this damned society.

The flowers swayed with the light wind, their petals floating in midair and the grass leaning to hear its breathless whispers. Small, careless whispers brought back the mumbles of someone. The sensation froze him, threatening to let go of his collar and make him dreadfully scream as he fell down in fear.

They were the mumbles trailing back to someone repenting their actions.

There he was again, the peasant who seemed to reluctantly steal the castle dweller's flowers. But the doubt in his movements disappeared after half a second as he ravaged the place once more. His hard work came to waste, disintegrating with the soil.

Without realizing it, he waited for the young man.

He waited for his presence, for him to rob of his happiness.

And he couldn't do something about it.