10-12-2019, 06:18 PM
{ and all we are is skin and bone trained to get along,
forever going with the flow but you're friction }
A shift of her silver eyes and she sees him, a flash of brilliant copper in the sun. She doesn’t straighten herself up, not yet. Instead she just watches him, watches the way he moves across the grass, and she can see that he is different. He is different, but not in the way she is different. He’s different because he is beautiful, and as he draws closer – coming towards her, she realizes, and that makes her pulse jump – she can see that he is fragile.
She is beautiful, too, but she is destructive.
She doesn’t mean to be. She is almost nothing like her mother, even though she inherited her ability. Starsin used her shattering when her anger reached such a peak that she didn’t know how else to express herself – when the only thing she could conjure was an explosion, a physical manifestation of her hurt and rage.
But Lilt has never known anger, or even hurt. She doesn’t know why sometimes the things she touches fall apart. She doesn’t know why they splinter and break, sometimes even without her touching them.
It’s why when this boy comes closer she isn’t even worried about how she won’t be able to hear him. Instead she is looking at his beautiful glass body, and how he gleams in the beams of light, and she is thinking of how easy it would be to break him apart.
His lips move, and for a moment she is trapped in the silence between them. She straightens her shoulder away from the tree, and the wind plays with the silken feathers of her wings. She shakes her head no, even though she doesn’t know what he said, and she wonders if he will see the apprehension and confusion in her eyes. Slowly, she was learning to read lips, but she hadn’t been paying close enough attention. “I can’t...I can’t hear,” she says in a voice that is hardly above a whisper, because she is so afraid of being too loud.
“You should be careful,” she continues, ducking her delicate head, and the sun catches the golden sheen of her horn, and the black of her forelock hides her worried eyes. “I...I break things.” She lifts her eyes back to him, a tentative smile touching the edge of her lips. “Even pretty things.”
She is beautiful, too, but she is destructive.
She doesn’t mean to be. She is almost nothing like her mother, even though she inherited her ability. Starsin used her shattering when her anger reached such a peak that she didn’t know how else to express herself – when the only thing she could conjure was an explosion, a physical manifestation of her hurt and rage.
But Lilt has never known anger, or even hurt. She doesn’t know why sometimes the things she touches fall apart. She doesn’t know why they splinter and break, sometimes even without her touching them.
It’s why when this boy comes closer she isn’t even worried about how she won’t be able to hear him. Instead she is looking at his beautiful glass body, and how he gleams in the beams of light, and she is thinking of how easy it would be to break him apart.
His lips move, and for a moment she is trapped in the silence between them. She straightens her shoulder away from the tree, and the wind plays with the silken feathers of her wings. She shakes her head no, even though she doesn’t know what he said, and she wonders if he will see the apprehension and confusion in her eyes. Slowly, she was learning to read lips, but she hadn’t been paying close enough attention. “I can’t...I can’t hear,” she says in a voice that is hardly above a whisper, because she is so afraid of being too loud.
“You should be careful,” she continues, ducking her delicate head, and the sun catches the golden sheen of her horn, and the black of her forelock hides her worried eyes. “I...I break things.” She lifts her eyes back to him, a tentative smile touching the edge of her lips. “Even pretty things.”
Lilt