will you even notice
As Aster continued to stare, the warmth faded more and more until it was replaced with deluge of indescribable bleakness. This emotion didn't even seem cold anymore, it was almost numb. As if staring at an abyss and peering down into it, Aster grew terrified, clutching the body of his teacup with tremendous uncertainty.
>"She died. About a month ago." Farrow sniffed and wiped her eyes, not allowing a single tear to drop of their own volition.
Aster recognized the absence of thought when she mentioned a month ago. As if disbelief stained her imagination, robbing it of even the memory of time. Aster had never seen such emotions before, blinking in his own disbelief. He put the cup down and held onto the hem of the tunic around his neck, leaning back slightly. Almost terrified of what he was seeing. He didn't want to fall into it, which was strange for him who was so used to flying.
>"It was always just us, and when she died I couldn't stand to stay in our house. So I left. And here I am!"
The intensity of denial was like a thunderclap for Aster, and he hid his face behind the cloth. He was afraid to look further into her eyes which were leaking, and leaking nothing he thought was good.
He was almost afraid to utter the question on his lips, peeking out his eyes from behind the tunic now stained with his heavy, peppermint-laden breaths.
"Died? What does that mean?" He had no concept of the word nor the emotion, every past memory failed to conjure an equivalent. Was this like the time his youngest sister disappeared into a brush and fell asleep, when their Hummingparents were calling all for their daily tour around the Celestine? Or when he'd forget yesterday, only to be reminded of it again later? Aster was unsure, and so he pushed the almost-finished cup in front of him with his toes, creating a makeshift barrier between him and the response she was ready to give.
>"She died. About a month ago." Farrow sniffed and wiped her eyes, not allowing a single tear to drop of their own volition.
Aster recognized the absence of thought when she mentioned a month ago. As if disbelief stained her imagination, robbing it of even the memory of time. Aster had never seen such emotions before, blinking in his own disbelief. He put the cup down and held onto the hem of the tunic around his neck, leaning back slightly. Almost terrified of what he was seeing. He didn't want to fall into it, which was strange for him who was so used to flying.
>"It was always just us, and when she died I couldn't stand to stay in our house. So I left. And here I am!"
The intensity of denial was like a thunderclap for Aster, and he hid his face behind the cloth. He was afraid to look further into her eyes which were leaking, and leaking nothing he thought was good.
He was almost afraid to utter the question on his lips, peeking out his eyes from behind the tunic now stained with his heavy, peppermint-laden breaths.
"Died? What does that mean?" He had no concept of the word nor the emotion, every past memory failed to conjure an equivalent. Was this like the time his youngest sister disappeared into a brush and fell asleep, when their Hummingparents were calling all for their daily tour around the Celestine? Or when he'd forget yesterday, only to be reminded of it again later? Aster was unsure, and so he pushed the almost-finished cup in front of him with his toes, creating a makeshift barrier between him and the response she was ready to give.
when I'm not around?
Aster
