Keyna knows disappointment. It has been carved into her bones. It has been writ on her heart. She has known a childhood of love, cocooned in safety and sheltered. She had been raised by fathers who had loved her so deeply, cared for her so completely, and then that had been ripped away. Disappointment is a welcome friend, even if the word is perhaps too shallow to convey the full depths of what she truly feels.
Lost. Abandoned. Forsaken.
The sweetness on her tongue is a promise long ago shattered, and she can only smile at him softly, radiating her hope at a future she knows she does not deserve. For her to have faith at all is a miracle and yet she does. She walks quietly alongside the ice angel and feels hope, feels the warmth of it blossoming.
(It is a trap, she thinks.)
And fear follows.
(Let yourself enjoy the moment, she reasons.)
And fear is shattered by possibility.
All of it swelling in her and pouring over until her cup runneth over. The boundaries she is not aware of needing to guard dissolving. But he agrees and her smile is radiant in response.
“Promise that you’ll remember my name,” if there are tears that gather in the corners of her eyes, she blinks them away and gives him a watery smile, the grief and loneliness spearing through her. “Promise that even if we never see each other again, you’ll remember me?” Her purple eyes find his and they hold onto his gaze. She is not sure why it is so important, but she needs to know that there is someone out there who will know her. Who will recognize her. Who will keep her alive, even in this memory.
Her parents have gone and her siblings have drifted.
She will drift too, she thinks.
But if someone knows her, then perhaps she will not drift so far.
@Selaphiel