{SE} you're my honey pie

Soleil

With both of her mothers lost, and still so desperately in need of maternal guidance, it’s no surprise Soleil feels exactly the same way about Maeve. Why she had been so eager and willing to return and visit despite the journey. The kitchen is thankfully outfitted with stools - likely Maeve’s forward thinking - so that she can be independent in her preparation despite the natural childish fumbling with the soap. She eagerly ducks her head for the apron, the neck tie sliding over her cloudlike curls only to pop free and have them spring up again. She stands patient and still for the taming of her hair, hands tapping out an idle rhythm on her thighs, eyes closed and basking in the gentle manipulation of her locks.

Sprinted up and prepared - and with another giggle at the kiss to her cheek - Soleil spins around eagerly, beaming. “Ready! Let’s make cookies!” she crows happily. Only for something terrible and alarming to appear in the corner of her eye, something distant but simultaneously close enough to see the pounding of frantic hands. Soleil startles hard, jumping sideways and colliding into Maeve with a strangled shout. But when she turns towards the image it’s gone, and she’s left shaken. “Maeve?” her reedy voice warbles as she reaches to fist her hand in the woman’s clothes, unsure what to say. ‘Did you see that?’ ‘What was it?’

a happy soul is the best shield
for a cruel world