Categories > Anime/Manga > Inuyasha > IY Drabbles
The Magic of Love
0 reviewsA collection of drabbles written for iyfic_challenge, iyfic_contest, Isswkiwa, and my own amusement
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The Magic of Love
Once magic belonged to his mother. It resided in her kisses; lingered in her voice, soothed his pain and colored his world with love. Then she died and magic faded away, replaced by hungry demons and hateful faces. Love vanished and his world turned gray.
Magic returned sometime later, the grays shifting to hues of clumsy affection. It was the way her eyes held him enraptured; the way her smile filled him with warmth and hope. Magic was her open hand, but when he reached for it the magic faded, died, as did he with her arrow embedded in his beating heart.
It wasn't magic that awoke him fifty years later. He refused to give it the satisfaction. Instead he called it chance, fate, destiny, a pain in his ass as he was paired with the strange woman-child from the well who reminded him of the magic he had once known. Bitter gray shadowed his world, sharp reds blurring his vision as deep murky blues weighed down his heart. Yet she was always there, a soothing yellow of sunlight in his life.
He listened as it rolled off her tongue coloring his world with visions of hers; watched as it slid from her eyes as crystal tears shed for him. Slowly the sharp reds of revenge and deep scars of blue began to shift, their hues becoming something familiar yet strange. The grays of his world blended with her yellow turned pink affections as she offered him her heart.
Silently they sat together beneath the sky, vibrant reds and oranges splashed before them, her fingers entwined with his. Magic was a girl in a green skirt who was not afraid to hold his hand.
Once magic belonged to his mother. It resided in her kisses; lingered in her voice, soothed his pain and colored his world with love. Then she died and magic faded away, replaced by hungry demons and hateful faces. Love vanished and his world turned gray.
Magic returned sometime later, the grays shifting to hues of clumsy affection. It was the way her eyes held him enraptured; the way her smile filled him with warmth and hope. Magic was her open hand, but when he reached for it the magic faded, died, as did he with her arrow embedded in his beating heart.
It wasn't magic that awoke him fifty years later. He refused to give it the satisfaction. Instead he called it chance, fate, destiny, a pain in his ass as he was paired with the strange woman-child from the well who reminded him of the magic he had once known. Bitter gray shadowed his world, sharp reds blurring his vision as deep murky blues weighed down his heart. Yet she was always there, a soothing yellow of sunlight in his life.
He listened as it rolled off her tongue coloring his world with visions of hers; watched as it slid from her eyes as crystal tears shed for him. Slowly the sharp reds of revenge and deep scars of blue began to shift, their hues becoming something familiar yet strange. The grays of his world blended with her yellow turned pink affections as she offered him her heart.
Silently they sat together beneath the sky, vibrant reds and oranges splashed before them, her fingers entwined with his. Magic was a girl in a green skirt who was not afraid to hold his hand.
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