aeroras: ([sora & kairi] dance together)
It's a nice evening out back behind the bar.

With the porch-lights on (softly illuminating the grass), and the universe swirling about (in beautiful colours of purples, pinks and blues) above them, it is one of those picture-perfect nights, the sort one might kill to have a camera for, if only to record permanently what the eyes only retain for so long.

Sora is out by the lake with Kairi, both seated beside each other. He is staring at the reflections of the water, each gentle wave rippling after the next.

It's peaceful.

It reminds him of home, a bit.
aeroras: (relaxed; content; crossing arms)
A thirteen and a half year old Sora lies prostrated beneath the humid shade of the Paopu tree, his arms and legs spread out as though he will attempt to create a sand-angel. His eyes are closed.

It's a hot summer day -- one of the hottest ones so far! -- and he isn't really sure what to do with himself. Staying at home, indoors, was not an option; it is far too bright and sunny. It would be such a waste.

He can hear the distant sound of waves crashing and sweeping across the shore, and the occasional buzzing of insects around him. Everything is a little numb and foggy, and the inevitable feeling of sleep begins to beckon him despite all circumstances.
aeroras: (fond memory;  together; kairi)
Ugh.

After all of that homework and those chores his mum made him do (even though he said he was busy!), Sora isn't in any fit mood to do anything but lie in his bed and sulk. Being eleven is hard work, and he shouldn't be expected to do so much in one day (and stay indoors!) when all he really wants to do is see his friends and play by the beach.

Sora stomps his way out of his house a half hour later (much to his mother's chagrin: "Sora, what did I tell you about stomping around the house?"), and finding a spare branch, makes his way to the shore. He's wearing his sandals and even though there's a stain on his white t-shirt, he refuses to change it.

Dragging the branch along the soft dirt, he traces a never-ending line. The sun is still in the sky, shining brightly, but in a few hours he knows it'll start to set, and he'll have to go back home. He suddenly wonders what he's going to have for dinner, and wonders if he'll have to help set the table too.

Moments later, Sora finds himself drawing near to the beach. He can hear the waves crashing, and he smell the salty tang in the air. It's his favourite place to be, and he can't think of a better location to let his frustrations be carried off in the waves of the ocean than here.

The paopu tree is empty; he half expects to see Riku there, as is usual...but nothing. Slowly, Sora draws closer to the sand and takes a seat, his legs sprawled out in front of him, his palms flat on the ground allowing him to lean back slightly to stare at the blueness of the sky.

It feels weird when he's all alone.

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Sora

November 2008

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