04-22-2024, 11:17 PM
— and how long must I stay, will I lay by your side
just to say that I’m yours and you’ll never be mine;
just to say that I’m yours and you’ll never be mine;
She is pleased to discover that even though he had alarmed her, he does not appear to be at all unfriendly. He has the kind of smile that reaches his eyes, and it encourages her own smile to shift from nervous politeness to something more authentic and easy. His gaze seems to be transfixed on her chest, though, and she glances downward to the stars that spiral there. “Nearly my mother’s entire body is galaxy colored,” she tells him by way of explanation, lifting her lilac-eyes back to his face. She pictures Desire, with her brilliant display of color that bleeds down to her white legs, and her moon-halo above her head — ethereal in her own way, and a near perfect display of the strange relationship she had been born from. “I only inherited a small piece of it, but I’m glad that I did.” Her mother is so many things that she could never be; fierce and direct, ruthless and cunning. She admired such traits even if she didn’t necessarily want to emulate it.
Mostly she just wondered what it might be like to meet the world head-on without the fear of breaking.
He tell hers that he does not actually live in the water, and she nods her head in understanding. “Do you spend a lot of time in the water? You look like you belonged there,” she says, recalling how just a few moments ago he had been so submerged she had not known he was there. She realizes then that she has not encountered many with such an affinity for water. Her father could manipulate it, but that was not quite the same as being able to breathe under it. It was a fascinating idea, perhaps even moreso than being able to fly. She can tilt her head back and look at the sky — she can stare at the clouds and the stars and imagine what it might be like to soar through it. But she cannot see down into the water, cannot even begin to fathom what it might be like to be able to truly explore it.
She wants to ask him more questions, but shortly after his introduction he asks her one of his own that, even despite the bluntness of it, inspires another smile from her. “Glass,” she says, but she does not tell him how that fragile heart of hers that beats dutifully inside of her chest is made of glass, too, and how she lives every day afraid that the world will shatter her to pieces in one or another but she is too in love with the world to keep pushing it away. “And my name is Hourglass.”
Mostly she just wondered what it might be like to meet the world head-on without the fear of breaking.
He tell hers that he does not actually live in the water, and she nods her head in understanding. “Do you spend a lot of time in the water? You look like you belonged there,” she says, recalling how just a few moments ago he had been so submerged she had not known he was there. She realizes then that she has not encountered many with such an affinity for water. Her father could manipulate it, but that was not quite the same as being able to breathe under it. It was a fascinating idea, perhaps even moreso than being able to fly. She can tilt her head back and look at the sky — she can stare at the clouds and the stars and imagine what it might be like to soar through it. But she cannot see down into the water, cannot even begin to fathom what it might be like to be able to truly explore it.
She wants to ask him more questions, but shortly after his introduction he asks her one of his own that, even despite the bluntness of it, inspires another smile from her. “Glass,” she says, but she does not tell him how that fragile heart of hers that beats dutifully inside of her chest is made of glass, too, and how she lives every day afraid that the world will shatter her to pieces in one or another but she is too in love with the world to keep pushing it away. “And my name is Hourglass.”
hourglass