09-10-2021, 03:50 PM
liesma
It will not always be so easy to make friends—she will not always simply be able to command others to be her friend—but for now it is that simple. To befriend the stars, he must first be friends with her. And he smiles at her in a way that injects sweet heat into her chest and she tilts her head at him but still not does not smile back.
(Will she ever? Or is she too much like her father?
Her father, who could not even bring himself to smile at the birth of his daughter.)
“Good,” she says and it is settled. A pact that she believes will last them a lifetime. Because he has agreed to be her friend, she has no doubt that they will remain friends until one of them perishes. She takes these things just as seriously as she does everything else, though he is the first friend she has made that she hasn’t pulled down out of the sky.
And she finds she wants to be friends with the thing that comes close enough to disturb her wings, too. Even if she cannot see it, no matter how intently she peers into the darkness. And she wonders what it is about him that makes him able to see them, turning her head sharply at the sound of the rocks splashing into the water nearby.
How curious it is, she thinks, when he tells her his name and she wonders which came first: his name or his ability to manipulate flames? Had his parents known or had they only hoped? Had he wished his magic into existence the way her mother had dreamed her wings into existence simply so that the name would make sense?
She does not ask any of these things, though. No, she stares hard at the stream and the rocks tumbling into it and asks instead, “why can you see them and I can’t?”
(Will she ever? Or is she too much like her father?
Her father, who could not even bring himself to smile at the birth of his daughter.)
“Good,” she says and it is settled. A pact that she believes will last them a lifetime. Because he has agreed to be her friend, she has no doubt that they will remain friends until one of them perishes. She takes these things just as seriously as she does everything else, though he is the first friend she has made that she hasn’t pulled down out of the sky.
And she finds she wants to be friends with the thing that comes close enough to disturb her wings, too. Even if she cannot see it, no matter how intently she peers into the darkness. And she wonders what it is about him that makes him able to see them, turning her head sharply at the sound of the rocks splashing into the water nearby.
How curious it is, she thinks, when he tells her his name and she wonders which came first: his name or his ability to manipulate flames? Had his parents known or had they only hoped? Had he wished his magic into existence the way her mother had dreamed her wings into existence simply so that the name would make sense?
She does not ask any of these things, though. No, she stares hard at the stream and the rocks tumbling into it and asks instead, “why can you see them and I can’t?”
i see you shining through the treetops
But i don’t feel you pulling strings anymore
But i don’t feel you pulling strings anymore