suddenly i'm spinning like a ceiling fan, around and 'round we go
As he confirms her selfish question with exactly what she wants to hear, she practically beams to him for his bluntness. But he continues, telling her that she deserves more than what she’s been given and she softens mentally even if her physical self still shines just as bright. Hard to do when the options are slim, yeah? She sends mentally instead, knowing he’d pick it up and hoping it seems similar enough to having an attuned bond to talk through, even if she hasn’t mastered the ability yet.
One day she would, though, and she likes to think she’d become unstoppable. Even as he tells her that it isn’t the things Kaisel would say out loud that are the things she wants to know, and she dramatically puffs her cheeks out with air before exhaling it in a quiet groan. He’s right, and she hates that he is, but she likes to think she can pick up the underlying thoughts especially if she knew him at least slightly well. “He’s a yapper. Get him on a tangent ’n he’ll talk himself into a hole.” She laughs softly, piling her fabric in a little pile, before she can turn to him to gesture to him as a whole and ask her question.
"Yes!" She brightens again to hear his concession and she practically spins on her heel to drift further away from the warm hues of gold and sunset attire for the darker shades. The one she selects is a deep navy, nearly velveteen in appearance but sharp and smooth for the touch. And within the fabric, little specks of silver glint if you held it up juuuust right.
Practically darting back to his side, she drapes it over his arm and peers up at him with the adoration of a sister who knows she’s made the best choice and expects him to agree.
One day she would, though, and she likes to think she’d become unstoppable. Even as he tells her that it isn’t the things Kaisel would say out loud that are the things she wants to know, and she dramatically puffs her cheeks out with air before exhaling it in a quiet groan. He’s right, and she hates that he is, but she likes to think she can pick up the underlying thoughts especially if she knew him at least slightly well. “He’s a yapper. Get him on a tangent ’n he’ll talk himself into a hole.” She laughs softly, piling her fabric in a little pile, before she can turn to him to gesture to him as a whole and ask her question.
"Yes!" She brightens again to hear his concession and she practically spins on her heel to drift further away from the warm hues of gold and sunset attire for the darker shades. The one she selects is a deep navy, nearly velveteen in appearance but sharp and smooth for the touch. And within the fabric, little specks of silver glint if you held it up juuuust right.
Practically darting back to his side, she drapes it over his arm and peers up at him with the adoration of a sister who knows she’s made the best choice and expects him to agree.
Calypso
suddenly i will never be alone
