Atrani
His breath is warm on her cheek. She accepts it with a soft lean into him and breathes in his familiar scent although it still lingers with that of the other girl. It causes an uncomfortable twist in Atrani’s stomach, but she says nothing of it. The pain of everything is still too fresh, and she’s reminded of it every time she takes a breath with no note of mother nearby. ”It isn’t the same,” she sighs into his shoulder despite how much she knows the truth will hurt him. ”Mothers are supposed to stay,” or so she has assumed although she may very well be wrong and lying to herself. But she looks up to father hopefully, her brows raising as her senses hungrily grope for him.
The promise that he makes immediately burns itself into her memory. Like a desperate child, she latches onto what he says. She wants to believe him, but there is a greater part of her that’s refusing to put her whole heart into his words. There is fear webbing around her because if there is one thing she has learned thus far, it’s that all good things come to an end. This intimacy between father and daughter will conclude and they will develop their daily patterns with or without each other. He will find new interests and eventually, Atrani may find herself the outcast and the shadow that looms over him, getting in the way of his true happiness.
She is his heart today, but what about tomorrow?
Shrouded in darkness, Atrani curls deeper into her father’s embrace where his body heat blankets around her. She savors these moments and rests her head against him to hear the steady beat of his heart. Her own synchronizes somehow, but then the drumming is masked by the deepened tone of his voice. As obediently as he can hope, she listens. Her small ears dance in circles to listen to his baritone, but she doesn’t yet lift her head away from him. Hesitation sinks its teeth into her, darkening her mind more than it already was. Her lip curls in distaste, but the scorn is hidden from him well enough until she is able to reply to him with a rather unsettling voice for one her age. ”Who, father?” Hunger is the last thing on her mind, but the opportunity is tempting enough to ask. ”Is it the woman you reeked of in the meadow?” She still knows nothing of the other woman or of the other life father led before she was born.
She knows nothing of her parents.
In due time she will learn, but she takes the assumption that her questions wouldn’t be answered now. And so she swallows her uncertainties for another day, reverting to being submissive and responding to father like she should. ”I want to be,” she breathes weakly, her face finally pulling away from his warm body, ”but then all of this would end.” Because good things never last.
The promise that he makes immediately burns itself into her memory. Like a desperate child, she latches onto what he says. She wants to believe him, but there is a greater part of her that’s refusing to put her whole heart into his words. There is fear webbing around her because if there is one thing she has learned thus far, it’s that all good things come to an end. This intimacy between father and daughter will conclude and they will develop their daily patterns with or without each other. He will find new interests and eventually, Atrani may find herself the outcast and the shadow that looms over him, getting in the way of his true happiness.
She is his heart today, but what about tomorrow?
Shrouded in darkness, Atrani curls deeper into her father’s embrace where his body heat blankets around her. She savors these moments and rests her head against him to hear the steady beat of his heart. Her own synchronizes somehow, but then the drumming is masked by the deepened tone of his voice. As obediently as he can hope, she listens. Her small ears dance in circles to listen to his baritone, but she doesn’t yet lift her head away from him. Hesitation sinks its teeth into her, darkening her mind more than it already was. Her lip curls in distaste, but the scorn is hidden from him well enough until she is able to reply to him with a rather unsettling voice for one her age. ”Who, father?” Hunger is the last thing on her mind, but the opportunity is tempting enough to ask. ”Is it the woman you reeked of in the meadow?” She still knows nothing of the other woman or of the other life father led before she was born.
She knows nothing of her parents.
In due time she will learn, but she takes the assumption that her questions wouldn’t be answered now. And so she swallows her uncertainties for another day, reverting to being submissive and responding to father like she should. ”I want to be,” she breathes weakly, her face finally pulling away from his warm body, ”but then all of this would end.” Because good things never last.
dove into her eyes and starved all the fears
picture by haenuli shin- HTML by Call - words: ________
[Image: callwolf_zpsasro4cel.png]