03-15-2020, 06:41 PM
she fell for the idea of him
and ideas were a dangerous thing to love
and ideas were a dangerous thing to love
She notices when the little girl changes; the delicate wings and the glow that is so similar to her own, and her heart flinches inside of her ribcage. Because it is strange to look at something that is so plainly hers, and not be able to lay claim to it. It is not the first time Anaxarete has essentially stolen a child from her, though she supposes in a way this was far less cruel. Beyza was never really hers; not the way Ripley had been. It was hard to miss something she never had, but it doesn’t keep that greedy, selfish part of her from trying to surface.
That part that wants everything and everyone; the part of her that wants to be able to claim this beautiful and brilliant girl as hers, but she can’t.
“You don’t want to make friends, too?” She questions gently, though she isn’t entirely surprised she had found the playground uninteresting. She doesn’t think any of her children have ever gone there; they all seemed to be born into such strange situations that forced them into a psuedo-adulthood, and maybe Beyza was no exception.
“I’m probably the worst chaperone you could have found, but, I’m sure your mother won’t mind.” She touches her nose to her shoulder before stepping off, glancing sideways to make sure she is following. It was early enough that the meadow was still quiet, save for the two strangely similar looking white, winged figures. “What were you curious about? Unfortunately the meadow can be pretty boring,” which is a lie, of course. The meadow was rarely boring, but if Beyza was lucky, it would be a long time before she had to discover that.
That part that wants everything and everyone; the part of her that wants to be able to claim this beautiful and brilliant girl as hers, but she can’t.
“You don’t want to make friends, too?” She questions gently, though she isn’t entirely surprised she had found the playground uninteresting. She doesn’t think any of her children have ever gone there; they all seemed to be born into such strange situations that forced them into a psuedo-adulthood, and maybe Beyza was no exception.
“I’m probably the worst chaperone you could have found, but, I’m sure your mother won’t mind.” She touches her nose to her shoulder before stepping off, glancing sideways to make sure she is following. It was early enough that the meadow was still quiet, save for the two strangely similar looking white, winged figures. “What were you curious about? Unfortunately the meadow can be pretty boring,” which is a lie, of course. The meadow was rarely boring, but if Beyza was lucky, it would be a long time before she had to discover that.
ryatah
@[Beyza]