REXANNA
paint my spirit gold
She leads him back to the home, where once before she Ascended, she had planted flowers for the gods after spring had begun. Where she had planned her wedding. Where so many memories had happened, and now it stood there almost collecting dust – quiet and soft and gentle despite the creaking of the wood beneath the weight of the snow on its rooftops. She finds she misses it to an extent, but she doesn’t comment on it. Not until she closes the door behind the two of them and he blurts out what seems like a fear.She pauses by the door, turning to look at him when he looks to her, unable to figure out what to say, but knowing the feeling all too well. She doesn’t expect payment, doesn’t want it. She wants him safe, despite knowing nothing about him. He’s young and the maternal instinct that still sits within her has been drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. And with how he’s reacted so far, it seems that might be all he wants too – a figure, someone to help, someone to care about him. And she can do that. She wants to do that.
So all she does is shrug her shoulders before she moves toward the coat rack, slipping off her furs and jacket to hang, leaving her in a blouse of sorts. Short sleeved and revealing of the pale arms and pale brand along her collarbone. “I don’t need payment.” She tells him softly, moving past him toward the kitchen for something familiar. “The Ascended numbers are small… We’re like a family. And people drop in here all the time, but rarely like us. I just want you to be safe. Consider yourself a part of this family.” She tells him, pouring a glass of water, before she turns to him and hands it to him, a fanged smile on her face.
“Besides, someone has to show you the ropes around here.”
