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aesthetic_mojo"If you tell your story, you own it. If you don’t, if you keep it hidden, it owns you."
Standing in the back garden, well out of sight of the house, twelve year old Charlotte had lifted one petal after another from the heirloom rose. They floated toward her until they circled her, dancing around her head and shoulders. Her hair floated up, mixing with the fragrant petals until she looked like a fairy child. If anyone saw, she would endure an excruciating lecture on proper behavior and wasting her abilities. No one would ever know the beauty she created in that moment.
Even speaking to Death, she hadn’t been honest. That Death, the Death, the one you see at the end, hadn’t gotten the full story. Withholding the details of her life was that automatic. Another being stepped up with a gift designed to protect her and still she shared nothing. Only with Grady had she let anything slip and even he only got hints.
He would know what he needed to protect her. She would show him what she could still do and explain what she had once been able to do. All of that was precursor to telling him what the people he shielded her against could do. In the name of history and duty, they learned magics no one should use.
Something deep inside her kept her from ever connecting with the rest of her family. Not as a child and certainly not now. They saw it as a flaw, of course, but she held it as a strength. When she left them she pushed everything they were aside. With that, she realized now, she had pushed aside a great deal of herself. Touching Grady reminded her of the simplest things, ones she hadn’t even thought of in years.
With him watching over her, even for just a few days, maybe she could finally show someone what her gifts could really do.
From a Muse_Playground prompt
Standing in the back garden, well out of sight of the house, twelve year old Charlotte had lifted one petal after another from the heirloom rose. They floated toward her until they circled her, dancing around her head and shoulders. Her hair floated up, mixing with the fragrant petals until she looked like a fairy child. If anyone saw, she would endure an excruciating lecture on proper behavior and wasting her abilities. No one would ever know the beauty she created in that moment.
Even speaking to Death, she hadn’t been honest. That Death, the Death, the one you see at the end, hadn’t gotten the full story. Withholding the details of her life was that automatic. Another being stepped up with a gift designed to protect her and still she shared nothing. Only with Grady had she let anything slip and even he only got hints.
He would know what he needed to protect her. She would show him what she could still do and explain what she had once been able to do. All of that was precursor to telling him what the people he shielded her against could do. In the name of history and duty, they learned magics no one should use.
Something deep inside her kept her from ever connecting with the rest of her family. Not as a child and certainly not now. They saw it as a flaw, of course, but she held it as a strength. When she left them she pushed everything they were aside. With that, she realized now, she had pushed aside a great deal of herself. Touching Grady reminded her of the simplest things, ones she hadn’t even thought of in years.
With him watching over her, even for just a few days, maybe she could finally show someone what her gifts could really do.
From a Muse_Playground prompt
