04-08-2017, 06:49 PM
Oh, she was right. It hurt. Seeing the home that could have been hers all along, in another life. If she’d been someone else. Knowing the whole while that she wouldn’t change what she’d done, wouldn’t take back what she’d said to Beqanna when Taiga’s founders had gone up the mountain in supplication. Even if she could go back to that day, she’d defend Romek all over again, and somehow knowing at least that much hadn’t changed hurt more.
This life was never meant to be hers.
Still, she ached with a quiet yearning that felt like a vise around her chest. Seeing the family that was almost hers, the way they fit together, the way they knew each other...no one knew her like that. God, she’d been alone so long it was hard to remember there was any other way. Hard to bear the tentative invitation in Romek’s eyes when she didn’t know how to be anything to anyone after so long.
She had a few friends, faces she knew, people she saw now and again who felt like the closest thing to home she’d ever known. But even they were only with her once in a great while, occasional interaction in a sea of solitude. And it was hard to adjust. So after Romek showed her around some, she excused herself with a little smile, saying she wanted a little time to explore.
Not saying she needed a little time to catch her breath.
She slipped into the darkness of the forest, at once familiar and so very new. The trees were so much larger than she was used to, towering over her and making her feel small and lost in a way she hadn’t since she was a little girl, thrown out by an angry god and cast into the shadows, cursed to wander, cursed to burn.
Her breath came in frantic little gasps, too fast, too deep, and she leaned against one of the giant trunks to try to calm herself. Pressing her face into the rough bark, letting the tree’s cool, solid solemnity steady the racing of her heart. Her lower lip trembled, but she inhaled slowly, fighting a rising tide of emotions she had not been prepared to deal with. And she let her breath out just as slowly, letting the strength of the giant redwood ground her.
You can do this, she told herself, relaxing as she closed her gold eyes and imagined someone she loved brushing their soft muzzle along the line of her shoulder, reassuring and soothing, a touch she hadn’t felt since she was very small. But one she remembered well. She’d lost track of how many times she’d stood just like this, leaning against a tree and pretending to herself, where no one else could see it. Where no one else could hear it.
Where no one could curl their lip in scorn and point out that no one would ever love her like that.
Lilitha wasn’t meant for family or friendship that lasted more than a moment at a time. A glimpse every few years, sure, just to keep her wanting. Just to keep her hoping, keep her yearning for what would never be. But that kind of familiarity, that kind of day to day closeness? No, she knew better than to believe it could ever happen. Not to her. The world had made that clear enough.
So she gave herself what no one else ever would, even if it was just pretend. Closed her eyes and imagined those quiet touches, soft and steady, petting her until her breathing returned to normal, until her heartbeat came down, until she could bear to open her eyes and remember it was all a pretty lie she told herself.
Just a little longer. It would only take a little longer. Then she could go back and try again.
This life was never meant to be hers.
Still, she ached with a quiet yearning that felt like a vise around her chest. Seeing the family that was almost hers, the way they fit together, the way they knew each other...no one knew her like that. God, she’d been alone so long it was hard to remember there was any other way. Hard to bear the tentative invitation in Romek’s eyes when she didn’t know how to be anything to anyone after so long.
She had a few friends, faces she knew, people she saw now and again who felt like the closest thing to home she’d ever known. But even they were only with her once in a great while, occasional interaction in a sea of solitude. And it was hard to adjust. So after Romek showed her around some, she excused herself with a little smile, saying she wanted a little time to explore.
Not saying she needed a little time to catch her breath.
She slipped into the darkness of the forest, at once familiar and so very new. The trees were so much larger than she was used to, towering over her and making her feel small and lost in a way she hadn’t since she was a little girl, thrown out by an angry god and cast into the shadows, cursed to wander, cursed to burn.
Her breath came in frantic little gasps, too fast, too deep, and she leaned against one of the giant trunks to try to calm herself. Pressing her face into the rough bark, letting the tree’s cool, solid solemnity steady the racing of her heart. Her lower lip trembled, but she inhaled slowly, fighting a rising tide of emotions she had not been prepared to deal with. And she let her breath out just as slowly, letting the strength of the giant redwood ground her.
You can do this, she told herself, relaxing as she closed her gold eyes and imagined someone she loved brushing their soft muzzle along the line of her shoulder, reassuring and soothing, a touch she hadn’t felt since she was very small. But one she remembered well. She’d lost track of how many times she’d stood just like this, leaning against a tree and pretending to herself, where no one else could see it. Where no one else could hear it.
Where no one could curl their lip in scorn and point out that no one would ever love her like that.
Lilitha wasn’t meant for family or friendship that lasted more than a moment at a time. A glimpse every few years, sure, just to keep her wanting. Just to keep her hoping, keep her yearning for what would never be. But that kind of familiarity, that kind of day to day closeness? No, she knew better than to believe it could ever happen. Not to her. The world had made that clear enough.
So she gave herself what no one else ever would, even if it was just pretend. Closed her eyes and imagined those quiet touches, soft and steady, petting her until her breathing returned to normal, until her heartbeat came down, until she could bear to open her eyes and remember it was all a pretty lie she told herself.
Just a little longer. It would only take a little longer. Then she could go back and try again.