kh_drabble | Two submissions in one day? Shwhat?

Well, it turns out my muse was pleased with my first submission to this community; I know because she came back to me tonight. So here's the second submission in my first day as a member of this community.

Title: Birth Order
Challenge: [067] Irony, though honestly I just started writing and realized when I was done that it fit.
Word Count: 442 (a little longer than I anticipated)
Spoilers: None
Notes: An exploration of the dynamics of Riku and Kairi's relationship, and of the impact of age.

Her hands are small, fingers like strands of thin white lace brushing ephemeral against larger palms. Her footprints are dwarfed in the sandy shore, and are usually the first to become swept away in the swallowing sea. Her chest is childishly flat, her hips straight and narrow, her lips two blushing virgins set like the petals of a newly bloomed rose beneath a tiny nose and two eyes that twinkle hungry with youthful enthusiasm. Her skin is soft and new and innocent as the dawn.

His body is hard and clearly defined, the lines of manhood already stretching across his skin. His chest is thick armor, his arms powerful like the wings of a hawk, his legs two pendulums always pumping him forward. His groin has swelled round and dropped; his voice is deep and rumbles like the ocean. His footprints are the largest, and they remain pressed into the beach for hours after. He thinks of the world in terms of what can be conquered.

She sees herself as a girl; he sees her as a woman. She yearns for sunlit beaches and windswept hair, for citrus and smiles and summertime. He aches for the dark, for secluded spots where two people could become lost in one another, for body heat and heaviness and all things taboo.

She wants to live an unencumbered life with few worries. For her, darkness is a far off mystery that she has no desire to investigate. He thinks he would one day like to save her from something life-threatening, and he envisions the ways in which she would thank him alone in his room at night.

It’s out of fear that she withdraws. His attentions are foreign and frightening, and his eyes are suddenly full of things her childish brain cannot yet fathom. She seeks simplicity in the younger of the two boys, who still regards her with innocent eyes and sees her as the child she envisions herself. “Let’s take the raft and go, just the two of us!” she tells him one day. When he responds with confusion, she only smiles; at least he’s still the same.

When her breasts are round and her legs are long, when she, too, has fantasies of an adult nature (they take place on an isolated beach at sunrise), it’s to another that she gives her heart. The image of that first boy, of the one who first blossomed in a way his two companions could not yet understand, is tainted by her memory of him, the memory of a child who feared the mature unknown.

And so she scorns the boy who grew up too fast.

Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks :)