Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Dahlia ❯ Dark Flower ( Chapter 1 )

Dahlia

By: Evil Bunny

ONESHOT

 

 

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“It feels like I am sitting in a room with seven walls,

I reach for the door with the light shining on it,

And my whole wide world it just crashes and crumbles

And falls.”

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Slender fingers clenched.

Unclenched.

Squeeze.

Release.

 

Perhaps a form of anger management?

 

Anger was not something to be `managed', such a powerful force striving for release. In the past, should some grand warlord perchance to grow angry, he would decimate a village or two. And should a god in his heaven become angry, he would smite those who opposed him.

 

Silky dark strands fell over closed eyes. A god with no heaven could not be anything but angry. To be ripped away from a throne, to be cast aside, to be stripped of title and given so few. And even fewer who were actually loyal to his word.

 

He was no longer a god. There are certain stipulations to that job description. There were benefits to be had, his word would be absolute. His form…

 

His form had been great. An awe inspiring corporal entity, neither having one shape nor one form. An array of colors and tactiles. He had not had…breasts…as they are.

 

So this was ones punishment for greed. For desiring the silly human thought that `more' was attainable.

 

Bollocks.

 

Trembling arms then failed to support her slight frame, and she thumped lightly to the floor.

 

Obviously the sound had not been enough to call the loyal to her aid, so balled fists pounded the floor. An angry insistent voice rose from her throat. A tired body expelled more energy than it contained.

 

Had she the strength she would have lashed out at the gentle warm hands that lifted her from the floor, but she did not.

 

Narrow chest heaving, lungs constricting painfully, she jerked slightly from the fingers that dabbed perspiration from her flushed face. Giving her no small victories, the fingers followed, and in mock worship pulled her to rights.

 

Unable to punish, unable to strike those given rightfully to her, she relented; and relaxed into the gentle embrace. To tired to do anything else. And as a tempestuous sleep claimed her foggy mind one thought glimmered beautifully resplendent…

 

`Oh, how the mighty have fallen.'

 

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This and `Azalea' kind of go together.