She was a walking inferno.
Fire, trapped within the confines of a human body,
And temper seethed beneath a molten surface.
But calm eyes hid her rage,
A temperate smile betrayed the flames.
She couldn’t hurt a soul.
Small hands that happily turned the pages of a book,
And the silent feet that carried her through the library.
She was a walking glacier.
Ice, frozen within the form of a human body,
And calmness emanated behind a chilled surface.
But calm eyes could not hide her rage,
A wicked smile betrayed the same.
She was deadly in that way.
Small hands that willingly wielded knives,
And the silent feet that carried her through the night.
She was a walking oxymoron.
Oh, the fire of her hair matched her spirit if you knew her.
And the ice of her eyes matched her demeanor if you did not.
But a gentle face hid raw rage,
A soft voice betrayed screams of fury.
About the Creator
Kat Pond
Aspiring to be everything at once: a spy, assassin, scientist, dragon, a hermit. With the limits of physical reality I can always be all these things in dreams and stories.
Instagram: @castrophia_dragonwitch
TICK TOCK
11.59. Even though the glass had shattered, Lorna could still see that her watch ticked over. One minute until midnight. Her watch was the only thing she had that she could carry. The only thing to remember her parents by. A birthday present from last year, the year she turned seventeen.
By Elizabeth Butler4 days ago in Fiction
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