[private] we need the dark to know the light; hourglass

[Hourglass]

She is not nearly as cautious as she should be, and in the beginning it had terrified her mother.

Desire wanted to keep her glass girls close, wanted to keep them safe, afraid of all the things in this world that could break them. But even before Hourglass had discovered her intangibility she had been reckless. She did not mind the way her glass legs quivered at her weight when she leapt, she paid little attention to the sound objects made when they hit or scraped against her glass body – and even less to the hairline scratches that were left behind.

The moment she had discovered solid objects could pass through her, the same way they can her mother, her bravery expanded tenfold.

She learned how to avoid unforgiving limbs and jagged rocks, she was no longer afraid of the shower of stones sent from her hooves when she explored Pangea. The only thing that dimmed her excitement at this discovery was that Clem didn’t share it. Her sister remained just as fragile as glass, and Hourglass understood now why their parents were so cautious and protective.

It was why she slipped away without her twin, leaving her curled and safe at their mother’s side. There is guilt that settles like a stone in her chest, since she rarely did anything without her, but it is quickly forgotten with the expanse of the world laid out before her child-eyes. With the sun setting as she finds her way across the river, the last of the light glinting off the red-glass of her body, she disappears into the forest.

Nightfall brings with it a lulling hush, but she is not the only one awake. An owl hoots softly overhead, and she can hear other animals scurrying through the brush and rustling the limbs of the trees. She picks her way daintily across fallen logs, and her eyes brighten at the sight of small, glowing fireflies that float and and twirl in the velvet of the night. She follows them, paying little attention to anything else, her laugh clear and unhindered with so few other sounds to interrupt it.

She follows them around a particularly thick grove of trees, and she starts at the sight of the glowing boy. "Oh!" She stutters to a stop, so rarely caught off guard, and the surprise reflects in her lilac-colored eyes. But she recovers with a laugh, stepping towards him, the fireflies bobbing between them. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect to find anyone else out here this time of night." She looks to the fireflies, and then to the soft glow that radiates from him, and comments with a brilliant smile, "You glow like a firefly. Maybe that's why they brought me to you."

I don’t believe that anybody
feels the way I do about you now

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