Earth Girl: an individual who deeply cares about the welfare and sustainability of the Earth.
Notes: A small poetic summary about Niah's life story on Mars, and snippets of her entanglement with Spike that features his own sentiments towards her.
.Niah’s most obvious quality would be her tendency to maintain a cordial, thoughtful demeanor when she interacts with others, whether their strangers or ones special enough to be called friends. But despite this, she’s also fairly reserved, quiet, and observant of people in general that some might misinterpret such traits as being standoffish, but it doesn’t quite dissuade her from offering them a small warm smile.
.A resident born on old earth at a different era, all she’s ever known was giving and showing love generously, for her heart brims with streams of life that it feels too full to just hold it all in, but the worlds hostile features repeatedly threaten to encapsulate her essence in a jar that would withhold all that she is.
.sometimes, she barely accepts her reality, rather thinking of it as a dream. What if she was still asleep in the freezer? Playing things inside her head, or what if she wakes up back at home in her bed? Underneath starry skies. sleepy eyes. That’s how her dreams at night appear, but she’s always preferred dreams to escape reality, likes to imagine the prospect of someone who could ( just ) only sincerely understand and cradle the weight of her heart in their lovingly hand.
.She does find some pleasure surrounded by nature, such as gardening and feeding the local birds, many of the things she used to do in the past before being reawakened. And poetry became her closest friend, giving her a voice on sheets of paper where she scribble down her deepest thoughts, desires heartfelt as they came into existence by mere scribbles of lead, fingertips often tainted by kisses of black ink, even smeared in watery tears that drip off the canopy of moist cheeks.
.in silence he sees her dabbling in ink, traces of it ensnared under her fingernails, and one time believed the filth that clings to him would also defile her light. Yet, it reminds him of the way those same fingers managed to taint his heart with touches of love, where the softest of roses began to bud - long ago, had taken root by seeds she planted unknown and watered with tears up above. But the warmth that her smile radiates simmers in pensive sadness, whispers something sweet to his soul, a foreign language he’s never known, dialect earthy and raw as fruitful soil where she swears all life begins.
.Niah’s not a fighter, not a soldier, far from it, can barely imagine the thought of inflicting pain onto another, even if well-deserved. She’s nothing like him, whose own skin has become worn and torn from the aftermath of fantastic battles miserable in their destruction – the glint of katana strikes and rounds of bullet holes, black feathers flutter where ravens dwell. And he’s grateful that she’s nothing like him, so, he makes sure that her heart isn’t led astray, yanked, or pulled by the claws of this world that hunger to strip her naked.
.Heat floods his cheeks. air hitches in throat between quiet breaths. His skin erupts in tingles at the ointment she smears along its ravaged surface, bandages up his wounds, applied by words she speaks gentle in comfort and breathes light as wind that drifts through the crack of an open window. He studies her from beneath messy hair, observes her face then with heavy-hooded eyes, again silent and mesmerized by the whiskey swimming in her lovely eyes, and he accepts how just one single drop, one measly drop of her taste, would be enough to get him drunk.
And he wonders if a ( ravenous) beast like him could ever understand the depth of her love, should he ever lay a foot into her secret garden.
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