They were quite a trio. This hesitant boy with delicate, feminine curves and lips and eyes so shy. Florentine blinks as she surveys him and then Maude with her wet, wet cheeks and smile that swept sweetness and sorrow into a tangle. Beside them, upon her place of bedded down grass, Flora is a sister piece of Maude’s own smile.
Between the three of them, made of terrible pasts and memories of those they can no longer see, walk ghosts unseen but tangible by the fear and sorrow they leave upon their hearts.
Oh she still misses the young girl’s singing, even if it was a song for the tears that dry slowly upon caramel cheeks.
Denocte?
It is a question and draw’s Florentine’s gaze from where it had slipped away towards the setting sun. “Yes. Have you not been?” Surprise colours its way through the flower girl’s question and she thinks it quite a shame that one might not ever see Denocte with its bonfire heart.
“Have you?” She asks the boy with coral skin and tines like porcelain. “If not, I shall have to take you both. Where we are made with the shiver of awakening stars, they are made of moons that never sleep. They dance when we sleep and light the world with flames. If you enjoy singing, Maude, we should go.”
Jude. Had the flower girl not heard his name in passing before and known him to be a boy, the she might have assumed otherwise. His skin has darkened to a rosy blush in the gloaming and the light is falling from the sky and shrouding them in darkness.
Slim and delicate, Jude lowers himself to the ground, his body finding rest with little more that a sigh of twilight breath. “I am afraid it is not as comfortable here as Isorath’s cushions but the grass is really quite pleasant and the sun is nearly gone. We should enjoy it whilst it lasts.” Florentine looks from the boy of porcelain and petals, to the girl of songs and honey and then out, out to the bleeding-heart sky.
@Maude @Jude this is all just too sweet!
★ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs without fear of the future ★
