prayed to keep my soul
S
he knows she is dreaming when the world starts tremble. But she leaps up anyhow. “The dead aren't gone,” are the first words that hang from her lips. She is no stranger to the oddness of nightmares, to the fear that builds, even now, in the pit of that delicate belly. These nightmares curl around her in the dark and she can hear the buzzing of the voices growing. She knows where she wants to go, needed to go, but she remembers too a promise she made to a friend.
This time she would find him.
Find him and show him.
Restless and so very, very wide awake, she tries not to begin sorting through her wandering thoughts. It is reflex to slip from her cottage beside the sea. Her mother lifts her head for just a moment before falling back asleep, unaware of her daughter tip toeing about the house. “I won’t go far, I promise.” She feels the need to say in a hushed voice.
The night is cool on her face and she greets it eagerly, tipping her head up to the stars and closing those bright blue eyes. She heads into the city, a place she is not to go without permission, but the place she goes all the same because he will be there. She knows where to find him, she saw him through a window one day, she knew the wings, but before that she knew his eyes, at least she likes to think she saw his eyes first, Elli likes thinking about his eyes after all.
She finds that window—his window—and tosses stones at it, she thinks not of Juliet and Romeo and how the roles have been so perfectly reversed. She watches as the stone fly upwards, skipping across air instead of water, it clangs against the window, the sound so perfectly tuned. Another is tossed, and another, and—she finds no more stones to throw at the window, so she waits. The buzzing it is coming back—buzz, hum, buzz, hum, bu—
“Aeneas,” she says to him when he comes to the window and opens it, the noises of night forgotten for the moment. She feels a flurry of butterflies in her belly, a little explosion of nerves although such things never rise to the surface of her expression. Instead she just stands there quietly, calmly composed, studying him with a face that is always a touch too serious. “Get down here,” she says to him. “I have a perfectly splendid evening planned for us.”
@Aeneas elliana speaks
elliana
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