Theea
you lose yourself when the wind flows through your hair
you taste freedom as you fill your lungs with air
you taste freedom as you fill your lungs with air
I wait quietly through her hesitation, not wanting to rush her, just letting the mist and the sound of the waterfall fill the silence between us. And then, as she finally reaches for the flower, she gives me a name. Liam.
Something in me softens at that. I don’t know what it’s like to love someone that way—at least, not yet—but I’ve seen it. My parents had it, once. I’ve always been a bit of a fool for love stories, really. And still… Mateo’s words flit through my mind, uninvited—how growing up comes with finding people more… interesting. The thought catches briefly on someone, flickers like a spark I can’t quite cup in my hands.
I circle the edge of the pool, boots whispering over damp moss until I’m closer, watching her fingers move reverently over the rose. When she invites me to meet him, I grin without thinking. “I’d love that,” I say warmly, a little surprised at how good it feels to know I might actually be helping someone. Maybe not in any grand, heroic way—but in a way that matters, just with kindness someone needed.
The emotion in her voice tugs hard at me, and I notice the tremble in her hands as she holds the flower. My heart clenches. I slip my backpack from my shoulder, kneeling to rummage inside until I pull out a small wooden box—the one I made not long after Deimos asked me to search for these, back when the Family was still here.
I hold it out to her, smiling gently. “Here. It’ll keep it safe—and uncrushed—until you can get it to him.”
Then, with a sudden blink, I realize something. “I’m sorry—I don’t think I ever got your name.”
Something in me softens at that. I don’t know what it’s like to love someone that way—at least, not yet—but I’ve seen it. My parents had it, once. I’ve always been a bit of a fool for love stories, really. And still… Mateo’s words flit through my mind, uninvited—how growing up comes with finding people more… interesting. The thought catches briefly on someone, flickers like a spark I can’t quite cup in my hands.
I circle the edge of the pool, boots whispering over damp moss until I’m closer, watching her fingers move reverently over the rose. When she invites me to meet him, I grin without thinking. “I’d love that,” I say warmly, a little surprised at how good it feels to know I might actually be helping someone. Maybe not in any grand, heroic way—but in a way that matters, just with kindness someone needed.
The emotion in her voice tugs hard at me, and I notice the tremble in her hands as she holds the flower. My heart clenches. I slip my backpack from my shoulder, kneeling to rummage inside until I pull out a small wooden box—the one I made not long after Deimos asked me to search for these, back when the Family was still here.
I hold it out to her, smiling gently. “Here. It’ll keep it safe—and uncrushed—until you can get it to him.”
Then, with a sudden blink, I realize something. “I’m sorry—I don’t think I ever got your name.”
the time has stopped, your mind has set sail
the road is home, the stars will light the trail
the road is home, the stars will light the trail
