Stalker Diaries 4

((seriously though. I hate the name. asdfghjkl;'))

Here it begins.
Again.
Okay I don't care no more editing for me I am tired of editing through stuff.
nuff said.



She has traced every single detail out for reference (and for love), the lines and curves and every crease--every dot--they stain her fingers, her lips, her tongue. She whispers them all out in hollowed echos, giggling as she does. The name of her beloved has long stained the whites of her skull and mind, carving a thin engraving upon her determination ((it's there, but not, like the wind, softly calling out to her will, and everything within her breaks; shatters like card pyramids that crumble at the beck and call of the breezes.))

"Aurelia," she mumbles the sacred word, in fear that saying it aloud would destroy the magic it held.

[she assumes this is an ancient secret, and she the sole remaining keeper of it--many have died to snatch Aurelia away. ((because that's how all heart-breakers are, crush and stamp away every inch of your weeping, bleeding heart. Let the blood flow and all that remains is a molten magma memory.))]

The name is dreamy, every single stroke of the letters 'A', 'u', 're' (they're forever together, in that brittle line of elegance and beauty) and 'lia' (there is a little, teasing curve at the end of 'a', because it's just another painful reminder that you've recited her name-again!-unknowingly. It's a flirty little smirk to tell you that it's ruling over your mind, and you are subject to her. You are hers, but she, not yours.)

Aurelia belongs, only to Bridget.

((it is a lie she sinks in every day--but she doesn't realise that she's drowning))

"Bridget! Bridget! Look! Aurelia--" Kathy is calling from beside the window.

Bridget lazily (and almost nonchalantly--but she cannot pretend the faint stirring in her heart is nothing.) glances up from her 'Project'--a patchwork of names (technically, just one). Aurelia passes through her classroom, giggling shyly along with her friends.

"Intimate. Happy. But a little bothered. Well, as long as she's with her friends, that last bit--" Bridget murmurs distractedly.

Aurelia's hair floating gently along in the wind, the sunlight amplifying her stunning features [and they seem to glow, like those little glow-in-the-dark stickers--and you can never close your eyes to their tales] and that slight brown in her usual black hair-- how could Bridget have missed that? Her hair turns a little brown when in the Sun. Noted.

"A-anyway. Her friends--"

Of course, Bridget's her friend too. 
Maybe more than just a friend.

((she has never thought to subtract from the equation.))

Bridget grins her usual smirk and flashes her teeth, as though warning everyone else that Aurelia's hers. Bridget's. She knows that Aurelia's a Gemini, flirty and fun, just playing hard-to-get. Every single detail of Aurelia's, even to the stars (yes, the stars), she has them all laid out in front of her mind's eye. (Except that new observation about Aurelia's hair. It-it was something new.)

Witty, charming, friendly.
Adventurous, willing to travel to places unknown.
Optimistic.
Favours freedom.
Gives complete independence to her partner (in this case, Bridget.)
Flirty, fun.

Bridget is Aurelia's Sherlock Holmes, scrutinising her to every last fiber of her actions--that casual swing of the arm, that shifty look, that pursing of lips, that batting of eyelashes. Bridget's always watching, even when Aurelia doesn't expect it. (like stars, they look at you through the dusty frame of the windows and they always smile) No, Bridget's a warrior, a fighter, a lady of strength. She will fight, if necessary.

But she knows Aurelia's always been hers.