06-28-2020, 08:13 PM
iridian
She wonders how he can be so sure that she could find him again, but his faith in her is a balm that brings a smile to those pale, uncertain lips. She remains unsure though until he speaks again and his grin brings a storm of wings fluttering to life inside her slender chest. “We’ll find each other.” She promises back, loving the shade of mischief in those golden eyes. “Where do you live?” Her navy eyes soften again with a shy kind of uncertainty that comes from talking about something she doesn’t quite understand. “I think my family is in a place called Tephra. Maybe I’ll be there too someday.”
She only just barely manages to bite back the unspoken, if you want to wait for me to exist. It seems too big a thing to ask when they’ve only just barely met. Especially when there is no way to know when, let alone if, she’ll be corporeal someday. But even if he doesn’t want to remember a ghost for that long, she’s absolutely certain she will remember this moment forever.
But the moment passes and she finds that watching him is not unlike watching a prism. There is so much more than what she finds at the surface of him, so many facets and layers and shades - and when his voice changes with that thread of worry winding through him, she is surprised at the shy ache that blooms in her chest. “Not better than you.” She disagrees, her face melting into a gentle kind of stubbornness that will be new to him. “I am quite sure that is impossible.” She says it with a sense of indisputable finality until his worry thaws her.
The look in his golden eyes makes her hesitate. “I,” but she pauses, her eyes soft and luminous, her brow furrowed deeply beneath the tangles of a bright red forelock, “well it’s no big deal, really, I just wasn’t born with my brother. Something happened and my moms had to bring me here instead.” She waits a beat to make sure he seems okay with this new information, then continues just as gently protective of him as she had been before. “I’m as real as any dream you’ve ever had.”
And then he touches her cheek and all the motion goes out of the world around them as though she’s trying to capture every single detail in perfect, permanent accuracy. “Myself.” She whispers, eyes locked so completely on his, blue against gold, night against day. There is no warning when the butterflies in her chest find a sudden tangibility and burst from her in silhouettes of shining golden glitter, betraying her far more thoroughly than any blush ever could. She blinks, breaking their gaze to glance down and brush the golden glitter residue from where it settled over her bright chestnut patches. “Well that was,” she frowns, blushes, searches for a word that allows her to hold onto any semblance of casualness, “random.” Her navy eyes lift to the sky to watch her glowing butterflies drift out of sight.
She only just barely manages to bite back the unspoken, if you want to wait for me to exist. It seems too big a thing to ask when they’ve only just barely met. Especially when there is no way to know when, let alone if, she’ll be corporeal someday. But even if he doesn’t want to remember a ghost for that long, she’s absolutely certain she will remember this moment forever.
But the moment passes and she finds that watching him is not unlike watching a prism. There is so much more than what she finds at the surface of him, so many facets and layers and shades - and when his voice changes with that thread of worry winding through him, she is surprised at the shy ache that blooms in her chest. “Not better than you.” She disagrees, her face melting into a gentle kind of stubbornness that will be new to him. “I am quite sure that is impossible.” She says it with a sense of indisputable finality until his worry thaws her.
The look in his golden eyes makes her hesitate. “I,” but she pauses, her eyes soft and luminous, her brow furrowed deeply beneath the tangles of a bright red forelock, “well it’s no big deal, really, I just wasn’t born with my brother. Something happened and my moms had to bring me here instead.” She waits a beat to make sure he seems okay with this new information, then continues just as gently protective of him as she had been before. “I’m as real as any dream you’ve ever had.”
And then he touches her cheek and all the motion goes out of the world around them as though she’s trying to capture every single detail in perfect, permanent accuracy. “Myself.” She whispers, eyes locked so completely on his, blue against gold, night against day. There is no warning when the butterflies in her chest find a sudden tangibility and burst from her in silhouettes of shining golden glitter, betraying her far more thoroughly than any blush ever could. She blinks, breaking their gaze to glance down and brush the golden glitter residue from where it settled over her bright chestnut patches. “Well that was,” she frowns, blushes, searches for a word that allows her to hold onto any semblance of casualness, “random.” Her navy eyes lift to the sky to watch her glowing butterflies drift out of sight.