07-22-2019, 09:53 PM
i've never cared for anyone so much
i was born with a bomb inside my gut
She has not smiled so much since the last time she saw her father, so many years ago now that she can barely remember the shape of his face.
It makes her cheeks ache but the ache delights her.
How thrilling it is to have a reason at all to smile.
How thrilling it is to have a friend.
“I like you, too,” she says and it surprises her to find that she does not immediately flush with heat. She does not tremble with embarrassment. She does not look away for fear that her admission might be met with some form of rejection.
She just goes on watching him with that same smile that makes her cheeks ache.
She might have laughed, too, if she wasn’t certain that it would come out sounding like rust.
His invitation catches her thoroughly off-guard and her smile slips off-center. She blinks at him, shifting her focus from his face to the yellow flower tucked away into the tangles of his mane and then back again. A beat of silence pulses between them before she finally nods.
“Okay,” she murmurs. She takes one cautious step, pausing briefly to ensure that he’s following before setting off with purpose. She scans the meadow, stops short to gingerly pluck a brilliant purple flower and nestles this one into his mane, too. She does not hesitate this time, perhaps emboldened by his apparent want for her company.
“Are you from Beqanna?” she asks as they fall into step again.
