Snippet #2680538

Fang Ling sat on a bench with a barely-there view of her normal haunt. To be honest, she could have gone up to the woman who was sitting on her usual bench, but she had been somewhat intimidated by the swords the woman was carrying with her.

Flashes of memories played in her mind, of darker times, of being on the edge of death, but she exhaled and let them drift away on the wind. They might come freely, but as long as your calm remained, they would leave freely too, and she liked it that way. These things were best left unchained, lest they chain her in return.

Despite the threat the swords posed, she could not look away from the woman. It was not quite her beauty -although that was part of it too, as she was as beautiful as the flowers surrounding her, despite the tousled hair and clothes that spoke of training.-

It was hard to put to words what kept pulling her eyes there, and in the end she just gave up trying to avert them, and drank in the sight like a person who had been thirsting their entire life, but not found what they were looking for until that very moment.

Fang Ling blushed slightly at the comparisons her mind came up with, but exhaled once more, again letting go of these feelings of embarrassment. It was truth, was it not? And in her heart she knew that despite the longing nature of the words, she held no romantic feelings for the woman. Admiration, maybe? Curiosity, certainly. But Love, no.

But maybe it was time she should go.

She pulled her knees up, laid her crossed arms on them, and rested her head on to of her arms.

"Just a little longer though..." she murmured to herself.