and bury it before it buries me
Five words change everything. Only five of them to turn her whole world upside down - she knows because she can feel nothing solid beneath her feet, nothing at all and she’s falling through it soundlessly. She should have known she would see him. Peering out at her from the shadows of the glass. Elliana’s father.
He is a wildfire, and he consumes her. She is breathless with it, shocked by how quickly it all comes flooding back—the way that he pulls her under, dragging her down with a weight around her ankles. She is here but she is not. She is younger and they are dancing by a bonfire. She is younger and he is pressing feverish kisses into her flesh in the chilled air of autumn. She is young and she is his. His.
But it’s not that time. It’s not, and she’s not the same.
And he isn’t either.
And this isn't real.
She was so pure, so clean, pristine in the way that only a newborn can be. It would not last, she knew this. She would never make it through the world unscathed. Everything about her blood, her creation, she was destined to become a think of shadows and darkness, she would break things or be broken. As much as Elena would try to protect her. Elena had felt an urge to hide her from the world, sharing her brought a pang of jealousy in her stomach. It is why she is on the island now, covered in mirrors, worlds she finds all too familiar and others she has yet to meet. But here, it is worth it, because here, Elliana is all her home. No one asks whose child she is, except Elena herself, but Elena’s only answer is mine, mine, mine.
She sees him, pushes off from the bottom of the lake and she sees him and she can breathe again. Something like a gasp tangles on her tongue. He had been upset with her, and she hadn't even needed to reach inside his emotions to know this. The aftermath of their last meeting had been bitter. A residual taste coats her tongue. “Azrael,” She says it hundred times, names every star in their sky after him, a series of low, uncertain sounds and quiet keening. She should not be here, coming before him like this. She doesn't deserve to ever see him again. Except, why, why does her heart hum like this for him, why does it grow wings when he smiles for her, why is she weightless when he is anywhere near her? If only he knew the way she cared him, of the way her heart fell apart and reformed in his hands.
Of the power he wielded.
Her reflection so matches the one that already sits there in the mirror world. Elena’s lips move and the reflection, and her, they both begin to speak, looking at the shed-star with china blue eyes. “Nights like this feel like a secret to be shared.” She breathes. “Here is mine,” she says and steps aside to reveal the little girl, so small she has not yet learned to talk, so small that she will never remember that this man before her is not her father, will not remember that once upon a time it was only her and her mother, if only because her monk of a father had no idea she even existed. “This is Elliana—my daughter.”
He is a wildfire, and he consumes her. She is breathless with it, shocked by how quickly it all comes flooding back—the way that he pulls her under, dragging her down with a weight around her ankles. She is here but she is not. She is younger and they are dancing by a bonfire. She is younger and he is pressing feverish kisses into her flesh in the chilled air of autumn. She is young and she is his. His.
But it’s not that time. It’s not, and she’s not the same.
And he isn’t either.
And this isn't real.
She was so pure, so clean, pristine in the way that only a newborn can be. It would not last, she knew this. She would never make it through the world unscathed. Everything about her blood, her creation, she was destined to become a think of shadows and darkness, she would break things or be broken. As much as Elena would try to protect her. Elena had felt an urge to hide her from the world, sharing her brought a pang of jealousy in her stomach. It is why she is on the island now, covered in mirrors, worlds she finds all too familiar and others she has yet to meet. But here, it is worth it, because here, Elliana is all her home. No one asks whose child she is, except Elena herself, but Elena’s only answer is mine, mine, mine.
She sees him, pushes off from the bottom of the lake and she sees him and she can breathe again. Something like a gasp tangles on her tongue. He had been upset with her, and she hadn't even needed to reach inside his emotions to know this. The aftermath of their last meeting had been bitter. A residual taste coats her tongue. “Azrael,” She says it hundred times, names every star in their sky after him, a series of low, uncertain sounds and quiet keening. She should not be here, coming before him like this. She doesn't deserve to ever see him again. Except, why, why does her heart hum like this for him, why does it grow wings when he smiles for her, why is she weightless when he is anywhere near her? If only he knew the way she cared him, of the way her heart fell apart and reformed in his hands.
Of the power he wielded.
Her reflection so matches the one that already sits there in the mirror world. Elena’s lips move and the reflection, and her, they both begin to speak, looking at the shed-star with china blue eyes. “Nights like this feel like a secret to be shared.” She breathes. “Here is mine,” she says and steps aside to reveal the little girl, so small she has not yet learned to talk, so small that she will never remember that this man before her is not her father, will not remember that once upon a time it was only her and her mother, if only because her monk of a father had no idea she even existed. “This is Elliana—my daughter.”
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@Azrael <3
![[Image: ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db...0iFb4PvyXE]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/8026a53b-dc57-41ab-b574-9f8a8fe57ce4/ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db0780.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzgwMjZhNTNiLWRjNTctNDFhYi1iNTc0LTlmOGE4ZmU1N2NlNFwvZGR2b3R3ZS01OTMwMmJhNi02YTgxLTQ3YmYtOTg0Ni0zMGM1YTVkYjA3ODAucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.ujCJH7FAbsQhfZlQniMmEd_vw-VmvaTDn0iFb4PvyXE)
let's light this house on fire
we'll dance in the warmth of its blaze
pixel made by the amazing star
