the universe is in your bones, the stars in your soul
Kamaria can only imagine what her father would look like, dressed in a color both as vibrant and dark as purple. Did it suit him? Would it suit him? And Nate, too? She knows already that it's her color, of course. "We can wear purple dresses! Really long, pretty ones." She suggests, a twinkle in her eye at the thought.
The widening of his eyes makes her hesitate in her confidence, uncertain of her argument now. Had she been too harsh? Did she hurt his feelings? Her arms slowly lower and she looks at him with a smile that grows meeker. But then he dives in to everything he can become, and her own eyes widen with wonder.
The real secret? Of course she wants the real secret! So she inches in closer to him and lends him an ear to whisper it into, taking great care to take this very seriously. At the reveal, she can't help but to laugh. "A dog!?" She repeats incredulously, brows furrowing with confusion, "Why's that the secret one?" She asks, tilting her head.
Afterwards, once he's answered that, she predictably does want to see these shifts. She ponders over which one she wants to see most. But she actually can't quite choose. "Show me your favorite one," she requests, or demands really, "or if I already saw it, show me... your second favorite!" So on and so forth. She wants to see something she hasn't, of course.
The widening of his eyes makes her hesitate in her confidence, uncertain of her argument now. Had she been too harsh? Did she hurt his feelings? Her arms slowly lower and she looks at him with a smile that grows meeker. But then he dives in to everything he can become, and her own eyes widen with wonder.
The real secret? Of course she wants the real secret! So she inches in closer to him and lends him an ear to whisper it into, taking great care to take this very seriously. At the reveal, she can't help but to laugh. "A dog!?" She repeats incredulously, brows furrowing with confusion, "Why's that the secret one?" She asks, tilting her head.
Afterwards, once he's answered that, she predictably does want to see these shifts. She ponders over which one she wants to see most. But she actually can't quite choose. "Show me your favorite one," she requests, or demands really, "or if I already saw it, show me... your second favorite!" So on and so forth. She wants to see something she hasn't, of course.
it's never really the end
Kamaria
