There is a God who makes things. He sculpts each and every soul, moulds their frame, carves their organs, and places them in the womb of a living physical being. And that living, physical being speaks, and feels, and then God’s newest creation feeds of what that character is. And then this new creature is born with this set way of thinking before it even knows how to grasp itself, and it is already apart of something so much bigger than it will ever understand. And that thought, that thought alone makes Exemplary question the very physical being that carried her for those months. It makes her question who her mother was, what she thought and believed in. How she acted when she was hurt, angry, happy.
Does she blink lots when she is nervous, does she find herself caught in the way of words and unable to speak, when she is angry does she illuminate fire from her eyes but the kind of fire that doesn’t look to be scary, no it looks beautiful. Is she the reason Exemplary acts in such manners, or was that something she learned absent-mindedly along the way?
Who is responsible for creating such an in depth man like Magnus, such a complex, intelligent being. Who taught him to speak so little, to manage words in a way much like a poet. Was she beautiful? He is handsome, so that must mean his parents were in some way, shape, or form, beautiful too.
And here she is again, lost in the universe of her own mind and incoherent to what is being said, and done around her.
A master of introvertedness. Introversion.
“It isn’t the new and the old that is scary, Magnus. It is the not knowing part that is scary.”
It is easy to handle life when things have a plan. She met Magnus, and he was unknown but since the beginning of the conversation he has proven to be of no threat, and therefore it is easy for her to continue to converse in him because he is new, but his intentions are known. And then there are physical beings that aren’t new, and are bad, and they are not necessarily scary either because she knows they are bad. She can therefore reroute her day to avoid these scary individuals. And then there are strangers, or strange situations, or just strange places in general that are unknown and that is most scary of all. Are they safe, are they dangerous, are they important or a waste of time; you don’t know these facts because they aren’t known to you yet. The scariest part of new is not scary, new is in fact exhilarating and fresh. It is the fact that by the end of the story you might be dead, and only because the intentions were unclear.
Secretive.
Unknown.
“New has introduced me to you, and I would like to think that is a good thing,” her voice is so harmonic, piano-like almost. She has a tone that can sing the most ugly, demonic song and it still sound like a choir version for church. Her voice is not husky and full of history and stories, it is like breathing a fresh of breath air and forgetting you had a story at all.
She will always be the one who attracts the broken ones. The ones who pick her because she makes them feel a high unlike anyone else.
The kind of high that numbs your heart and cures your ache.
She does not know of his history—his love, his son, his kingdom past—she just knows of this gentleman who has vocalized interest in her. Not in her. Interest of her. An innocent interest. The kind of interest a teacher shows in his student. The kind where they intend to help, to educate, and to maybe learn in the process.
And she has the sort of interest a girl has on a distanced boy at work. Where you communicate seldomly and smile occasionally, and make up a spark all in your head. An innocent crush.
Maybe not a crush on Magnus, necessarily. No, a crush on the fact someone has shown interest in more than her ebony frame.
Maybe a little bit of both.
It is a shame she will always be born to be a heart breaker. To die and then relive and never remember her previous life. A mare born to relive, and relive again and consistently wipe the chalkboard clean.
Magnus shouldn’t show interest in her, even if he only intends it to be friendly.
“You keep implying you have good stories, but you don’t seem to want to tell me.” Keep talking, little doe, you cannot walk away now.
Exemplary
I will be yours, and only yours, until the day I fade to black
@[Laura] I apologize it took so long to write this, but I finally found her muse again
