i love you more than words or the night sky. (a_i_shi_te_ru) wrote in tomoeda_high,
i love you more than words or the night sky.
a_i_shi_te_ru
tomoeda_high

it was reckless.

Well, hey everyone. Glad to see we're all MIA! xD

Geni's got a FF comm, Jei's gone, 'Manda's got school work, Laur is -- xD Busy?

But I'm posting anyway. I love CCS and I love you guys too much to let this die.

And Geni, remember how I was talking about RPing via e-mail? Instead just comment small posts, so we can get a conversation between Tomoyo and Sakura in. Since, you know. They haven't talked since she found out her best friend has been all hanky-panky with her brother, xD. I didn't want to God-play Tomoyo, so if you want, we can just RP in comments right where this post leaves off.

Let's have a little rebirth here. I know it's hard with only me, you, and Dru, but this is still our comm. And I don't want to lose it.

Well. Love to everyone. Happy RPing. <3

And oh yeah. Lol. We need to introduce Eriol, Jeanette and Marcus soon. ;

The polished white marble of Tomoyo's mansion hurt her eyes. The sunlight was now a foe; it reflected and refracted off of any surface, threatening to blind her. Sakura's hand steadied in Syaoran's, and it felt like he was pulling her up the winding staircase. Lead by a head maid, they climbed Higher and higher-- she didn't remember it taking so incredibly long to get to Tomoyo. Why was she so far away?

Are we climbing to heaven?


"I'm sorry," Sakura murmured when one of the handmaid's left the room for tea.

Syaoran sat facing her, unmoved. "I was only kidding, we can't stay in bed all da--"

"That's not what I meant," she said a little more quietly.

There was a tap against the window nearest to them, where the sun hovered closest-- then a shrill cry and a tuft of down feather as four chickadees zipped past.

It was quiet for too long a moment. Syaoran's hands clenched and unclenched in his lap, his mouth opening when --

"Miss Tomoyo is ready for you now, Miss Sakura," muttered the maid as she reappeared at the door, two cups of steaming chamomile in hand.

Sakura reached over to touch his white knuckles. She was smiling. This was a good day. This was a beautiful day. She kissed him before she stood.

And left Syaoran sitting in silence.


Tomoyo hadn't rearranged her room in years; it bore the same bed linens, the same dressers and night tables -- the same hairbrush, coupled with a mirror and wide-tooth comb. Tomoyo was still water, safe water -- deep water. Dark water. Her black hair clung to her face and Sakura knew then, struck impotent in that instant, she had never seen anything more beautiful. So much like her mother. Tomoyo was so much like her mother.

She took a step in to the room and couldn't help but feel too close to God. This part of the house was bathed in white, smelled like ambrosia, and had a living, clockwork angel.

Tomoyo's lips were lifted in a weak attempt at a smile. There was a moment of Sakura simply staring, and then,

"Hey, you." She tried laughing.

Tomoyo grinned.

".. Hey."

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