but Antony was and would always be in love with this girl. However messy or secretly organized her life could be, Antony wouldn't care just so as long he had an important niche of it in his caring hands. "Do you really have to make me prove it?" Antony asked, sounding childish all the while kicking the ground with his thick, black camping boots.
"Well, just how in the world am I supposed to believe you? You're trying to prove to me that somehow, someway I happen to be this girl I've never even heard about!" Celestine proclaimed; the questioned woman's tone becoming heated and bothered. "Go ahead, make the attempt to find something that will prove me wrong." Daring, a quality Antony figured was doomed to extinction the moment their relationship reached its defining point of finality. But, like Celestine's last name, it rose from the ashes of its supposed death--much like Arina did within this girl. Antony's mouth created a sour frown, what he was thinking of doing seemed much too reckless for this. Taking a deep breath, he allowed the rain to swallow his noisy exasperation. His fake cerulean colored eyes couldn't muster the strength to look upon petite Celestine; shame was just too overpowering.
"Well then Mr. Giordano? How are you going to prove your ludicrous claim to me?"
"I'm going to jump off this building. That's how I'm going to prove it." if only the horrified look in Celestine's oddly colored eyes could be enough for him to back off. Antony on the other hand knew better than to believe Celestine would retreat from this fight so easily--she was stubborn to the very end...up until the stakes involve more than just pride. Life is far too precious for her to gamble with; he knew that. So without any fear, Antony sauntered away from her and towards the edge of the building, allowing Celestine to watch on in horror as he stared down at the empty, wet streets flights below him. It couldn't be helped--a smile propped itself on his frustrated face. Antony quickly delved into one of his coat pockets, revealing a single lace of delicate silk when he removed it from its original holding spot. Ignoring the startled Celestine, Antony brushed the memento against his face, recalling a time where he was free to do this whenever he wanted--when the man's happiness was once intact.
"There was a time where you and I had our threads intertwined; you know that frilly little tale about that red string? Invisible, crimson thread tied around the recipients, ready to lead them to each other. But...to be honest, even if I believed in such a silly story, I thought of the string as white, not red." the man told her, his smile turning into something like a chuckle.
"Well, just how in the world am I supposed to believe you? You're trying to prove to me that somehow, someway I happen to be this girl I've never even heard about!" Celestine proclaimed; the questioned woman's tone becoming heated and bothered. "Go ahead, make the attempt to find something that will prove me wrong." Daring, a quality Antony figured was doomed to extinction the moment their relationship reached its defining point of finality. But, like Celestine's last name, it rose from the ashes of its supposed death--much like Arina did within this girl. Antony's mouth created a sour frown, what he was thinking of doing seemed much too reckless for this. Taking a deep breath, he allowed the rain to swallow his noisy exasperation. His fake cerulean colored eyes couldn't muster the strength to look upon petite Celestine; shame was just too overpowering.
"Well then Mr. Giordano? How are you going to prove your ludicrous claim to me?"
"I'm going to jump off this building. That's how I'm going to prove it." if only the horrified look in Celestine's oddly colored eyes could be enough for him to back off. Antony on the other hand knew better than to believe Celestine would retreat from this fight so easily--she was stubborn to the very end...up until the stakes involve more than just pride. Life is far too precious for her to gamble with; he knew that. So without any fear, Antony sauntered away from her and towards the edge of the building, allowing Celestine to watch on in horror as he stared down at the empty, wet streets flights below him. It couldn't be helped--a smile propped itself on his frustrated face. Antony quickly delved into one of his coat pockets, revealing a single lace of delicate silk when he removed it from its original holding spot. Ignoring the startled Celestine, Antony brushed the memento against his face, recalling a time where he was free to do this whenever he wanted--when the man's happiness was once intact.
"There was a time where you and I had our threads intertwined; you know that frilly little tale about that red string? Invisible, crimson thread tied around the recipients, ready to lead them to each other. But...to be honest, even if I believed in such a silly story, I thought of the string as white, not red." the man told her, his smile turning into something like a chuckle.
