Breath Is Motion
By: The Hatter Theory
Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Inu Yasha
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Points turn, tip and topple over. He watches, eyes tracing her movements. Summer is filled with work, which she embroils herself within, finding her comfort. Given any free moment to think, she fills it with the solace of work, fingers always weaving, twisting something within them. Nervous tics become the habit of form. Never is she without motion, never is she still. He wonders why no one else has noticed. A thought of whimsy provoked by ribbons of distracted silence.
He watches her from afar, watches her wear down like a stone in a river. He watches carefully, quietly, patiently.
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Prompt from Kayelyn's Weekly Word Challenge: Volant
Words: 100