#ZAINA.
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‘ ¡mira lo que acabo de ganar! ’
levanta una de sus manos para recibir el artículo, de dicho modo puede estudiar firmeza y peso entre sus dedos. ' está... simpático. ¿en qué stand te lo ganaste? ¿estuvo difícil? ' apretuja con suavidad, luego lo levanta para ubicarlo a la altura del rostro de la chica. con los ojos achicados parece analizar ambos. ' mmmnh, ¿será que se parece a ti? '
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' con tantas pinturas, podría ser algo más cercano a harry potter. ' opina, pero finalidad no cambiaba demasiado, panorama general donde obras cobraran vida, resultaría más que interesante. mirada se desliza a escultura, pero negativa de cabeza casi parece descartar idea femenina. ' quizá ni siquiera tenga algo ahí abajo, como un ken. ' comenta. ' ¿no hay una de estas famosísima de un hombre desnudo? '
(📍) el patio marly.
' ¿te imaginas que si se llegue a mover por las noches como las figuras de cera en aquella película de disney? ' no recuerda el nombre del filme, solo sabe que aparece un dinosaurio de huesos y robin williams. su mirada va de la escultura a su compañía y de regreso. ' que un día el tipo esté subido en el caballo o que la tela que lo cubre se le caiga de ahí abajo. '
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various studies of random people i saw on pinterest :3
top:
Rina Ohta, photgraphed by Osamu Yokonami (?)
Zaina Miuccia, photographed by Casper Kofi
couldn't find the name of the model & photographer, but here's the link: https://www.pinterest.de/pin/102527329000443724/
bottom:
Beth Ditto, couldn't find the name of the photgrapher
Chisato Moritaka, unknown photographer
#my art#illustration#art study#pinterest#portraits#portrait art#rina ohta#zaina miuccia#beth ditto#chisato moritaka
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Some whispers refuse / to translate.
Zaina Alsous, "Window Strike" from A Theory of Birds
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Zaina Arafat
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Queer
DOB: N/A
Ethnicity: Palestinian
Nationality: American
Occupation: Writer
#Zaina Arafat#queerness#lgbt#lgbtq#qpoc#qwoc#bipoc#lgbt+#female#queer#asian#middle eastern#arab#palestinian#poc#writer#muslim
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OMFG I ATE ALL THE TAGS WTF okay so omg ooc reo??????? WTF IS THAT ????? HE FITS SO PERFECTLY ZAINA !!! im gonna combust from this OMG RAHHHHHHHHHHHH i love it so much omg
#ficrecs ← i need this to be documented in my faves fr i ate all the tags omg😭 tumblr add more this is not enough for me!!!!!!!
"you look unwell."
"do i?" your tone betrayed your disinterest. it was very evident to those around you that you were bored. so utterly bored, you couldn't bear being in that place; but your conversing partner did not seem bright enough to pick that up.
"yes, worse than usual."
"than usual?" you didn't care for what others had to say about you. you had grown quite desensitised to the endless talks and endless gossip that encircled you, but there was a limit to your patience. you were no saint. however, the unusual circumstance you were in proved helpful, in the sense that, it was allowing you to leave the conversation justifiably.
"forgive me, i did not mean..." he trailed off, he had finally caught on, he had overstepped.
"you did not mean to speak your mind?" you let out a false laugh, hoping it would give you enough leeway to escape the horrible situation you were engaged in. "it is all well. but i must take my leave. my lord." you thanked the heavens he did not stop you or try to apologise. maybe you ought to thank him for his ‘services’.
making your way closer to the entrance you heard the sound of carriage wheels clattering against the cobblestone streets as guests said their goodbyes and farewells. the night was coming to a close; the warm glow of the chandeliers reflected off the gilded mirrors and the polished floors of the ballroom, while the soft strains of the orchestra's instruments filled the air; it was all hideous and horrible, you could not think of anything but how to get away from it all.
"young lady, where are you going?" turning around you half expected to see a mouse with how squeaky the voice speaking to you was, but there stood a boy standing (half-confidently) in the doorway. why was he calling you young? if anything, you looked older than him.
"just a quick promenade in the garden." you hoped that would’ve been enough to leave you alone, but he seemed displeased with your answer, so you added, "would you like to join me?"
"unchaperoned?!" he looked offended to have even been asked to join you. maybe you should've been offended too?
"it shall not be unchaperoned cousin!" now this was a confident voice. a young man (really, this time) walked up to the boy from behind and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.
"re—"
"pleasure to meet you lady..." he interrupted. his pitch rose at the end of the sentence; it was a question.
"y/n, l/n. and you are?"
"lady y/n l/n, it is lovely to meet you. great people, the l/n's, lovely family, lovely people—"
the empty chatter was beginning to bother you.
"i would like to know who i will be walking with.".
"aren't you demanding? my lady." he teased. his hand still on the boy’s shoulder, pulling them both towards you.
"forget it." you turned on your heel aggressively and headed towards the looming dark green garden, lit up solely with the flickering fireflies. it almost perfectly reflected the starry night overhead, the turbulent purple clouds and shooting stars falling gently behind them. it was a shame the night was being missed by all the people wasting their time indoors. at least you had been left alone for once—
the young man ran up in front of you and bowed, before giving you his hand. a gleaming smile graced his lips and he seemed quite pleased with himself, like a child figuring out how to do something mundane (to others that is, children often find the silliest things extraordinary) on their own.
"i shall not accept it until you tell me your name."
he sighed in defeat, but he never wiped the stupid smile off his face. again he nodded in a half-bow. "am i allowed to follow you?"
"you can do as you please." you weren't just pretending to be indifferent, you truly didn't care what he did. the idea that you might be trapped into a marriage with the young man if you were caught with him alone had crossed your mind at some point but wouldn't that just mean you could step away from the 'marriage mart’. he seemed smart enough to hold a conversation, and he did seem to possess some aesthetic qualities. all wasn't bad.
"coz! join us!" he yelled as he trailed behind you, like an excited puppy. and the boy obliged. he looked scared, as if his cousin would hurt him if he did not follow through.
"so, my lady, how are you enjoying the night?" he once again offered his hand as you both stood awaiting his cousin to join you.
pushing past his gloved hand and raising your skirt ever so slightly (so as not to ruin it in the garden) you replied, "i have participated in better balls."
"it saddens me to hear that." holding his hands behind his back he stepped closer to you. faking a hurt frown. you raised a brow inquisitively. why was this man so invested in a ball he had not organised? and why was he not telling you his name?
"this is the prince's ball, why should it bother you?"
"you're quite correct. it should not bother me." he chuckled. "coz, what did you think of the ball?"
"you—" a stern look from the mysterious, nameless, young man and the boy corrected himself all too quickly, "the prince must have worked painstakingly for days, it was very well organised, the orchestra was lovely and—"
"enough about the ball!" you said, far too angrily.
"was it really that tiresome?" this time the enigma sounded genuine.
"please, do ask me why i left the ball." you said through gritted teeth.
"why did you leave the ball so early, my lady?" he leaned forward casually and looked you in the eyes, as if deeply interested in what you had to say. you were taken aback– this was a first. you had supposed that he, too, was just as disinterested as you were, and that all the conversing was just a formality. perhaps you were mistaken.
"to be left alone, to get away from the incessant questions about my marriage, about a courtship. is that really all a lady is worth? i truly believe that women are much more interesting than men shall ever be; so why should we withstand the boring, meaningless questions?"
"i don't—"
"please, my lord, do not say a word."
the rest of the walk was quiet. you could almost hear the grass snapping under your weight from how silent everyone was. this was what you had wanted, yet it felt claustrophobic and uncomfortable. by the time you had done the round of the garden and seen all that it offered, the cool air had started prickling your skin. you were sure the man had noticed the goosebump on your exposed arms, neck and back but he seemed to be trying not to invade your personal space again.
a second time approaching the excessive abode you watched a mass of people emerge from the front door and head towards their horse-drawn carriages, with footmen, drivers, and all. that was who you were, the daughter of a duke, rich and privileged. your duty was to secure as advantageous a match as possible, but everything related to that prospect infuriated you. it was a strange feeling, being so aware of who you were supposed to be, yet not wanting to be them. it was a constant battle, and neither side felt truly right.
a man wearing a very tall hat had approached, distracting you from your thoughts. he bowed grandly, taking his hat off before turning sideways and stretching his arm out to point to the buildings, “your royal highness, the archduchess requested your presence.”
the mysterious man nodded his head once and started towards the indicated location.
"you're prince reo mikage?" you called after him. suddenly it all made a bit more sense. not that it wasn’t still a confusing situation. but all the interruptions and stern looks could now be pieced together. your exasperated voice made him turn around at once. it seemed he had found a reason to stay.
"i suppose." he chucked, "but please, call me reo."
"no..." you weren't sure where this crazy sense of daring was coming from. you hadn't even bowed and apologised for your rudeness yet, in fact, here you were denying a simple request. a prince was not the sort of person with whom one ought to trifle.
"no?"
"it would be rude to call a prince by their name without also using their title." you noted primly, he seemed to take this into account for a second before replying, eyes sparkling with bold intent.
"would it be rude to use my name if we were, say, courting?"
"we are not courting."
"but it remains a possibility, my lady?"
you caught an audacious gleam in his eyes and you felt a final breath leave your mouth. you parted your lips ready to say something, but not a single word was spoken. there was nothing but air, and even that seemed in short supply.
“the archduchess does not like to wait, your royal highness.”
“yes, i must be on my way, my lady.” he muttered distractedly, turning back to bid you farewell, “i shall call on you soon.” he nodded again and left.
and there you stood, foolishly, under the moonlight, listening once more to the carriage wheels clattering against the cobblestone streets as guests said their goodbyes and farewells, the night had finally come to a close, truly this time.
you walked aimlessly towards the carriage your mother was standing beside. she looked distraught and anxious, betraying her worry at your absence. you weren’t completely sure what had happened that night and you were dreading seeing reo again, (prince reo, you corrected yourself), unsure of his intentions towards you. deep down you knew you weren’t special enough to capture the interest of a prince in just one night, so was he coming to reprimand your rudeness? you shouldn’t have spoken as much as you did...
however, as the morning drew in, it permeated the night and conquered all the fear and trepidation you had harboured as you slept. you were ready to face all the consequences of your actions and you were ready to protect your family. as you read in the sitting room this fearlessness only heightened. there was no way you would let a young man such as himself, prince or not, shame you and your family. you were prepared to do whatever it took.
“why are you up so early?” the voice of your mother interrupted your thoughts, “after all the sighing and eyerolls from last night, you must be exhausted!”
“i find myself full of energy all of a sudden...” and before she could reply or register what you had just said you quickly added, “i would like to meet the prince.”
“sorry darling, what was that?”
“mother, i would like to meet the prince.” you repeated, this time with more conviction, “to thank him for such an eventful evening, truly one of the best soirees i have ever attended.”
“although i’m sure the prince would appreciate such a sentiment,” she said hesitantly, “i doubt the daughter of a duke could simply call upon a grand prince. there are certain rules one must follow, especially regarding royalty.”
“then, what must i do to secure a meeting?”
she looked around, confused, before prodding you with, “i’m not quite sure myself dear, but may i ask why you wish to meet the prince?”
“i want to give him my thanks.”
she sighed deeply before plotting herself next to you on the sofa. “this is so unlike you dearest. what is it really?”
uncrossing your legs, you swung round to face her fully, “mother, truly, i simply want to–”
before you could finish, the door to the sitting room blasted open, and your butler rushed in, his face burning red and his breaths coming in ragged gasps. “your grace, the prince’s carriage has arrived.”
“so soon?” you murmured, feeling a sudden wave of nerves wash over you. it had hardly been a day and he was here already. all that confidence you had been building up seemed to have vanished as soon as the news of his arrival reached you.
“has this anything to do with your request earlier, darling?” your mother whispered, shooting you a worried glance.
“i don’t think so...” you feigned innocence as she looked at you dubiously raising a brow. nevertheless, she had no time to waste on the matter, immediately taking the now sweating butler to the foyer to greet the royal guest.
you suddenly became very aware of just how unprepared you were for a visit from royalty. you weren’t wearing anything spectacular, and you hadn’t even done your hair yet. you weren’t a mess per se, but were far from ready to attend a royal meeting. but you really had no time to think as your mother entered the room once again, her disposition now distracted and anxious.
“y/n, the prince wishes to meet you in the garden.”
“in the garden?”
“yes. if you know anything about this, please tell me now. i am worried for you.”
“i shall tell you everything soon.”
“y/n!” your mother exclaimed, but you had already ran out of the sitting room, flinging your book onto a nearby sofa and pulling on the gloves she had just taken off.
upon opening the doors to the garden, you saw the same figure you had walked with the previous night. as he turned he flashed you a charming smile, you felt a flutter in your stomach and a warmth build up in your cheeks. part of you was pleased to see him there, but only a part.
“we should marry.” he walked up to you, offering a hand. had he not grown tired of your refusals? you couldn’t help but pity his persistence, and that was the only reason you accepted it. it was warm and sturdy; he must be an adept dancer, you thought to yourself; of course, he was a prince.
“is this how you greet every lady you call on?”
he chuckled while placing your hand on his elbow and guiding you towards the fountain that stood in the centre of the garden. “only the ones i wish to marry, my—”
there you were, interrupting him again. was this your punishment? and if it were, why were you digging a greater grave for yourself rather than just accepting defeat? wouldn’t this be easier on your family?
“i barely know you, your highness.” you protested.
“does my reputation not precede me?”
“i have no interest in gossip, so i know nothing of your reputation, your highness.”
“you shall if we marry.” he continued, as if all your concerns meant nothing to him. they probably didn’t. princes are not accustomed to the word ‘no’.
“you are quite literally the last person i intend to marry, your highness.”
his mouth fell open mockingly as he gave you a rueful look, “you would rather marry my cousin?”
“your high—" you began, but he interrupted. it would be a miracle if the two of you could ever finish your sentences in each other's presence.
“if you are so keen on calling me by my title perhaps ‘my prince’ would be better suited.”
“it would be inappropriate, methinks.”
“and methinks, the lady doth protest too much.” he quipped.
“reciting hamlet shall not woo me, sir.” you retorted, trying your hardest to appear displeased and disinterested.
“then what must i do to secure your heart, my royal highness?”
“i am no princess.”
“you will be if you answer my question, my lady.” he stopped abruptly to look at your face fully. you noticed things about him you had not seen before. his strong yet gentle eyes, the way his hair fluttered slightly in the light zephyr like feathers of doves, and how he always seemed to be charmed.
he was vaguely amusing, vaguely annoying, vaguely vexing, but you couldn’t quite help but admire his wit. what you didn’t admire so much was his persistence and his refusal to take ‘no’ for an answer.
“why me?” you asked finally after what felt like a century of just staring at each other.
“because you fascinate me.” he replied simply, as if that were the most obvious fact in the universe.
you suddenly felt very annoyed, and you didn’t shy away from showing it. you scoffed loudly before replying. “anything can be fascinating, if one is curious enough.”
“you truly are wise beyond your years.” you were wrong. he wasn’t always charmed, in fact in this very instant his smile dropped, and he gave you a grave gaze.
you looked at him for a long moment, feeling unaccountably stung. he seemed to notice the discomfort but said nothing and the two of you stood there staring into each other’s eyes.
“i should take my leave.” he bowed slightly; it was different from the sorts of bows you had received from him. they felt hurt in a way. “your presence has truly brightened my morning, my lady.” his tone did not indicate anything of the sort, it had turned monotonous and distant, and you found yourself longing for his animated self once more.
“so, are we to marry, your highness?” you tried asking. you hated how you sounded so desperate, you hated how you had admitted defeat and you hated how he was leaving, again. why were you calling for him as he left, again? could there ever be a time where he wouldn’t leave.
“not yet.” he said modestly before departing.
days turned into what felt like an eternity as you struggled to despise him with every fibre of your being. and you really did struggle. he was dragging your chastisement for far too long; how cruel it was for him to toy with you like this. you were not his prey to play with before he devoured you. but as much as you tried to resist him, you couldn’t help the way your heart ached when he was gone. it was foolish; you had known each other for barely enough time for him to have such an impact on you. but there was no doubt, you missed him terribly.
your mother, too, had grown tired of asking you about his abrupt visit after more than a week had passed. but your attachment to him only grew stronger.. it was absurd to miss someone who tormented and vexed you. but you supposed you had always been a rather peculiar person.
“dearest, another ball? are you positive?”
a whole month had passed since the incident. very well, it was probably no more than four days, but it felt like months. every second felt like eternity without him. you had attended every ball there was to attend in the past days, days, and nights. yet any time you tried to approach him, you felt like a fool. why willinging walk into a trap of a marriage? what was wrong with your head? no, your heart, what was wrong with your heart?
you were sure this ball would be like every other. some schubert, or mozart if you were lucky, assaulting your ears. women flocking around your prince and him not even sparing you a glance. you wished to be alone in the garden again, just with him this time. you weren’t certain what you wanted to do, you weren’t certain how you would even reach such a circumstance and, you weren’t certain you wanted to listen to your heart at that exact moment.
“no, i’m not, mother.”
“what is it dear?” you could barely make out her voice anymore, the darkness of the night outside was pressing in around you and you felt yourself begin to cry.
your lower lip quivered as you chose your next words very carefully, you did not wish to speak your feelings into existence, and you surely didn’t wish to let your mother know about your affections. “my head hurts, i think the scratchy music from last night has taken a toll on me.” you coveted the energy to add a fake chuckle to that, but you did not have any left. so you looked at her, eyes dead and mouth smiling. it seemed to have worked, she gave you a sad, pitiful look, said some sweet words and left.
you soon heard your tears begin to drip from your eyes. it was a soft, gentle sound, like the fluttering of a bird’s wings, but it echoed through the silence of the room like a thunderclap. you missed him so much it hurt, it was a dull ache that settled deep within your chest and refused to be ignored.
you stopped. you had to. you heard a loud crash echo through the room as it came from the balcony. you spun around, heart pounding, only to see a flower pot had toppled over and shattered on the ground. just great, you couldn’t simply be left to cry, you had to be killed as well.
your nerves on edge, you cautiously treaded towards the balcony, sensing the chill of the night air on your skin, and the hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end. peering over the stone guardrail you saw a familiar man frantically pacing in a circle. why was he here?
“my lady—” he yelled. when the moonbeams lit up his face you saw the state he was in. he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. his cravat was almost entirely undone and his eyes were wild.
as soon as you heard him you charged off, without a second thought. your fingers grasped onto the walls as you ran down flights of stairs, your mind growing dizzier and lighter with every step. as you reached the bottom, you caught sight of him through a nearby window, approaching with a frenzied haste.
with a burst of energy, you pushed open the massive doors and stepped into the crisp night air, coming face to face with the prince. both of you were out of breath, your faces flushed and minds blanking in the presence of each other.
“my—”
“what do you think you’re doing here?” you asked sharply. in truth you didn’t want to know at all, you were just glad, grateful, honoured, to see him again. and so close.
he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the vulnerability of the moment, “can we walk?”
you nodded, feeling your hand enveloped by his warm, slightly rough, ungloved skin, as if he had been out without his gloves. you felt yourself melting into him, and dear god, it was just his hand, but you could feel yourself moulding into him so easily.
“what is it, reo?” you asked softly, turning to face him. the concern etched on his face did not go unnoticed.
in a voice tinged with worry he said, “you look unwell.”
“i am unwell.”
“i’m sorry.” he replied quietly. and he really was sorry. he wished he could be there for you, but he had grown hyper aware of how uncomfortable he made you feel.
“if you were really sorry you wouldn’t have stayed away for so long.” your usual unreadable expression had contorted into a pained and depressed one.
“i cannot stand to be away from you, you are my very life, and every separation gives such endless heartache...yet, i cannot force someone who doesn’t wish to see me to feel what i feel.” he admitted, his voice heavy and hoarse with sorrow.
“i do not wish to see you?” you repeated, heart murky with confusion.
“do you not, not wish to see me?” he asked, his gaze intense as he searched your face for any sign of affirmation. you opened your mouth to offer the prince a scathing retort–why was he being so secretive? you hated him. but then, just when you were ready to sharpen your wit, something else popped out of your mouth instead.
“i want nobody but you for my lover, and my friend; and to nobody but you shall i be faithful.” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could even think to stop them. the air around you seemed to crackle with energy as you met his gaze, your heart struck in your chest. you felt strange, queer, almost as if you were somehow suspended in time, ready to lift off your toes and float away.
you weren’t sure when it happened. it hadn’t been sudden and clear in an instant. you weren’t even aware you loved this man until it had crept up on you and your own words professing your love for him divulged the information.
for a moment, he just stood there, staring at you, as if trying to process the weight of your words. but then he smiled; most annoyingly, most beautifully. and without warning, he stepped forward, his hand finding its way to the back of your neck pulling you closer to him. his lips found yours, and he was none of the things one should be the first time. he wasn’t gentle, and he wasn’t sweet. he just kissed you, intently. with everything he had, with every ounce of desperation coursing through his veins.
as he pulled away, his lips found your ear, and you felt more than you heard, “i missed you.”
you wanted to say that you’d missed him, too, but he was too close, and you were too warm, and your voice escaped you. good heavens, did every woman have this much trouble breathing when standing so close to a handsome man? it was no matter though, he was soon kissing you again; you had no space left in your mind to think of something so silly as breathing.
#OMFG ZAINA- WTF ??????????????!!????????#ILY OMG OMGOMGOMGIOKGGHN#OKAY HOLY SHIT#the longing????? omg and how they miss each other wtf#reader is so strong 😕 i would've kiss reo if i first saw him#CMERE YOU#LET ME GUVE U A KITH REO COME HERE AND LET ME GRAB YOUR FACE ANS KISS YOU RAHHHGHHGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH#PRINCE REO sobs SIR PLEASE LOCK ME AWAY AND MARRY ME#GOOD LAWDDDDD#ZAINA.#'your presence has truly brightened my morning my lady'#it had turned monotonous and distant and you find yourself longing for his animated self once more#OMFG REO COME BACK IM SO SORRY DON'T GO RAGGGGFSHHGVH PLS I NEED HIM SO BAD DON'T BE SAD REO OMGG#when he when he when he when when when .... he calls you 'my lady' I DIED PLEASE CALL ME ANYTHING AND I WOULD ALWAYS ANSWER REO#I WOULD SAY YES IN A HEARBEAT PLS JUST GIVE ME YOUR HANDS REO AND I'LL TAKE U TO THE ALTAR#reo mikage x reader#blue lock x reader#IT'S SO HIM OMG HE FITS THE ROYALTY AU SM OMG OMFGGGDBB#'i cannot force someone to who doesn't wish to see me to feel what i feel' YOU DON'T NEED TO ILYSM REO I WOULD DO ANYTHING PLEASE#WHY DOES TJIS HURTS WTF ZAINA#THE DESPERATION OMG reader is so me pls🙁🙁#'but then he smiled; the most annoyingly most beautifully.' HE'S SO CUTE HE'S SO PRETTY OMG OMG OMG I CANT DO THIS TODAY PLD#'and without a warning he stepped forward his hand find its way to the back of your neck pulling you closer to him. his lips found yours.'#↑ OMFG KISS ME MORE OMGOMGOMG HWGWGWDFWHWVWEWWEEW IM GOING INSANE FOR THIS MAN#please have mercy i literally can't do this today#'as he pulled away his lops found your ear and you felt more than you heard 'i missed you' OMFG I MISSED YOU TOO REO OMG TAKE ME TAKE ME !!#'you had no space left in your mind to think of something so silly as breathing' IM GONNA CRY I WANT HIM TO BE REAL SO BAD RN#I CAN JUST DROWN IN HIM NO REO NO AIR !!!!!!#zaina zaina zaina omfg i love this sm please please please i wann kiss your brain so bad and your mind and your fingers omg#ZAINA THE WAY U WRITE OMFG🥹🥹 PLEASE FEED US MORE OMG GOD IVE NEVER EATEN THIS GOOD WTF
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Zaina Alsous, “Leave”
#many will continue to argue leaving and never returning is a choice not a violence#w#poetry#zaina alsous#from the river to the sea
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you exist too much by zaina arafat
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Zaina Miuccia by Ivar Wigan
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la voz le arranca del único propósito que hacía sus pies movilizarle hacia la salida. luego no tiene que examinarla demasiado; las facciones atraen todo un cúmulo de memorias al que pensó no tendría que recurrir más. días confusos entre un grupo de gente que sólo sintió familiar pocos días antes de su apresurada partida. a veces sentía que las memorias de aquel verano no eran más que un sueño colectivo y extraño. pero ella... ella, allí, era la prueba de que no había sido así. ' ah, ' exhala, primero mirando a su alrededor para comprobar que eran, en efecto, los únicos en la piscina techada. hay una sensación extraña que conllevaba encontrarse alguien de la clave allí... casi como si hubiera regresado al juego. pero eso era imposible, sólo podía tratarse de una coincidencia. una bastante inesperada. ' ¿por qué estás aquí? ¿eres parte de...? ' ¿el club, podía ser? ' lo siento, me iba porque... ' la confusión retrasa algunas de sus palabras, ' quiero decir, no había alcanzado a ver tu cara. ' ¿estás... bien? ' @unfor9iven
lo que solo iba a ser un entrenamiento ligero junto a su entrenador terminó convirtiéndose en un día entero metida en el club. visitó desde el gimnasio hasta el spa, y aunque estaba lo que sigue de exhausta, no podía dejar pasar la oportunidad de tomar un último chapuzón en la piscina privada. es tarde, por lo que ésta debería estar desierta, sin niños chapoteando ni mujeres criticando a las personas detrás de gafas gigantes de diseñador, el escenario perfecto para la patinadora. sandalias resuenan en el lugar con cada paso que da, toalla doblada en un cuadrado perfecto sobre sus manos y encima de esta yace su teléfono junto a un libro. tarda demasiado en darse cuenta de la presencia de otra persona y está por darse la media vuelta, ganas de socializar en números negativos, cuando éste se acerca lo suficiente para verle el rostro. lo conoce. ' oh. ' suelta, señalándolo con el dedo. no debería estar impresionada por reconocer a un miembro más del club, después de todo pasa demasiado tiempo en el gimnasio del lugar como para ser extraña a los clientes frecuentes, pero este rostro es uno que ya no puede pasar por alto. ' ¿asahi? ' suelta interrogante, pestañeando varias veces. ' si eres tú... ¿verdad? '
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Zaina by EazyVisuals IG:@eazyvisuals
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MENSAJE ENTRANTE: ZAINA ( @zainc ) " ¿tienes algo qué hacer en la tarde? "
asahi: ¿quieres que hagamos algo?
asahi: pensaba dar un paseo por el cine del club de playa...
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el mensaje queda a medias, como una conexión confusa que no termina de establecer hasta volver a girar por encima del hombro y encontrarla moviéndose no-tan-escondida (pues los muebles no ayudan) para retirarse la pieza. antes de siquiera quedar a la vista un poco de piel, asahi se gira rápidamente sobre los talones. rasca al nivel de su nuca y... exhala. no esperaba que se cambiara de ropa cuando todavía estuviera allí aunque claro que tenía lógica. de ponerse el suéter por encima, difícilmente entraría en calor. ' pensé que estabas triste por estar aquí encerrada... ' empieza a hilar sin tener muy en claro hacia dónde quería llegar. pero esa no es más que su primera impresión, al menos la de la verdadera zaina. el hacerse una idea de quién era cada uno después de los intercambios de palabras más superficiales era algo común. para cuando la siente más cerca y él mismo se anima a buscarla, empieza a sospechar que se ha expresado de la manera errónea. ' no es eso. ' de hecho, estaba seguro de que no quería nuevas ingestas de alcohol, al menos hasta dentro de un par de días. ' me gusta el silencio. ' más allá de sentirse cómodo, verdaderamente lo había hecho su casa. ' sólo... supongo que no quiero pensar que te está afectando no poder salir. ' le regala aquella pieza de honestidad con una voz más bajita, casi cautelosa. ' la zaina callada se puede quedar todo el tiempo que quiera. ' después la pequeña sonrisa tirando de sus comisuras, asahi lidera el camino hacia el pasillo. ' además, sería hipócrita de mi parte de otro modo. no es como si yo fuese el alma de la fiesta, ¿no crees? '
cuando lo ve moverse, lo última que espera es que regrese con un suéter limpio y seco para ella. honestamente, pensó que se le había olvidado algo o que iba a agarrar una prenda limpia para sí mismo, jamás se vio esto venir, por ello no sabe muy bien cómo reaccionar. pestañea un par de veces antes de aceptar la prenda, murmurando agradecimiento cuando lo tiene en mano. piensa que si se pone algo seco encima de lo mojado, terminará una cosa con la otra y no se arreglará el problema, al contrario, le dará más frío porque cargará con dos cosas mojadas encima en lugar de una, por eso llega a una conclusión. ' voy a — ' carraspea, de pronto nerviosa. maldita sea, no debió beber tanto porque ahora se está comportando como tonta. ' espérame un segundo. ' pide para después moverse a un lado de lo que parece ser un librero, es la mayor privacidad que puede obtener en un lugar como este (supone, no ha visto lo demás). rápidamente se deshace de su blusa empapada para ponerse el suéter seco encima, su cuerpo entrando en calor casi al instante. con esto, es más fácil para ella lidiar con el resto de su atuendo húmedo. ' ¿te parezco triste? ' mientras pregunta va sacando su cabello del interior de la prenda para dejarlo caer sobre su espalda, caminando lento hasta alcanzarlo. ' no estoy triste, solo conociste a la zaina parlanchina. ' la que si le cae bien a la gente. ' en general soy así, más callada... ¿prefieres a la otra? si encuentro una botella por aquí, te la regreso. ' intenta bromear, no está segura que le esté saliendo bien.
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hows life!!
evil and twisted get out of my inbox you dweeb
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Everything I know and love is made possible by violence. When I ask men to press harder on my throat I am not begging for death but curating a reiteration of revival.
Zaina Alsous, "Translator's Essay" from A Theory of Birds
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