[P] red lips, french kiss

[Elena]

every day it feels like I’m holding back an ocean

She is strong.

She is strong because she came out of the pits with hellhounds nipping at her heels. She is strong because she learned inside of her there was fire, burning and bright, hot enough to leave charr and smoke in her wake. She is strong because she found it in herself to move past grief and find the love of a family once more. 

She is weak.

She is weak because she followed him, demanded to know what he was doing with her and when he said terrible things she never left, only hung onto him. Elena had needed no leash, she was not some dog to pulled around by a rope, but the end of it was held in her hand, just waiting for him to give it a tug. 

There is the smell of spring in the air. She almost instinctively turns to look for Lilli. It was almost uncanny. She smelled flowers, she looked for crimson. Lilli. The girls when they had been younger, had loved to explore the ancient valley of Paraiso looking for all types of flowers that it held. Elena loved her sunflowers, and in one particular area of their home, they grew tall and beautiful in a large cluster. Elena would let herself get lost in the rows and rows of flowers as the sun touched upon her back, making her shine as bright as the yellow petals. They were simpler times, when a flower blooming was enough for Elena to forget all her troubles. 

Spring had come to Novus. Elena could feel the sun was a little bit warmer, the sky a little more blue, and she felt a little bit happier. There was a sense that she was becoming more and more at home in Terrastella, the Dusk Court. But, despite this, Elena still feels the need to explore. She wants to see every inch that Novus has to offer her, resulting in her spending time away from Dusk, and typically at the ocean where she has found a certain ease at collecting her thoughts. 

Today Elena has traded the blue sea, for a sea of green, standing amongst the plains as the spring breeze teases through the blades. It finds her locks of gossamer and tangles through it before rolling upon her golden skin. Elena does something strange then, maybe something silly, but she takes off with a kick of her heels, running with a sort of reckless abandon she has not felt for some time. The breeze blows against her face and her creamy tresses stream out behind her like some sort of proud banner. It is only when her legs feel shaky and her breathing quickens that she comes to a halt, her thoughts far behind her, trying desperately to catch up. 

For now, Elena feels—peace.



* e l e n a
in the dark I’ll pray for the return of the light
the sunflower daughter of benjamin and beylani
medic of dusk.

@El Toro