I think I might be scared of the world and the way it makes you feel afraid and how it gets in the way
I don’t notice the boy watching me (at least, not on a conscious level), which is probably for the best. If I thought somebody was stalking me, I think that this whole thing would be a lot worse. If I thought that somebody was following me, even out of curiosity, or some sense of kinship, well. I would probably dissolve into the crowd and really lose myself.
I do, however, about jump out of my skin when he speaks from behind me. I turn around, attempting to settle my heart. As though it weren’t already racing before. “Sodium...” I say, trailing off as I look at him.
I realize that I do recognize him, but I’m not sure why. I had to have seen him in the crowd. “Sodium makes yellow,” my voice wavers slightly, as I glance between him and the fires. “It’s the flames. The colors depend on what they’re burning; plants, minerals, bones. It just… depends.” Even though I know he might not care, talking about it calms me down. Knowing always calms me down.
His skin is dark, and dappled, and his eyes are like steel or a cloud-filled winter sky. His hair is ivory, fair, but perhaps most interesting of all are the crimson red markings all over his legs and his wings. Paint? Tattoos? I don’t know. But focusing on him makes me feel better.
Focusing on something other than being lost in a crowd without either Diana or our mother slows my heart, and makes the breathing come a little easier. “I—I’m Ambrose,” I’ve never been much good at conversation. I’m much more comfortable at home, with my books and a little bit of quiet. But maybe I can do this, even if it’s just until I find my family.
I do, however, about jump out of my skin when he speaks from behind me. I turn around, attempting to settle my heart. As though it weren’t already racing before. “Sodium...” I say, trailing off as I look at him.
I realize that I do recognize him, but I’m not sure why. I had to have seen him in the crowd. “Sodium makes yellow,” my voice wavers slightly, as I glance between him and the fires. “It’s the flames. The colors depend on what they’re burning; plants, minerals, bones. It just… depends.” Even though I know he might not care, talking about it calms me down. Knowing always calms me down.
His skin is dark, and dappled, and his eyes are like steel or a cloud-filled winter sky. His hair is ivory, fair, but perhaps most interesting of all are the crimson red markings all over his legs and his wings. Paint? Tattoos? I don’t know. But focusing on him makes me feel better.
Focusing on something other than being lost in a crowd without either Diana or our mother slows my heart, and makes the breathing come a little easier. “I—I’m Ambrose,” I’ve never been much good at conversation. I’m much more comfortable at home, with my books and a little bit of quiet. But maybe I can do this, even if it’s just until I find my family.
![[Image: 27092483_OXKc9V3WJVpPTMw.png]](https://f2.toyhou.se/file/f2-toyhou-se/images/27092483_OXKc9V3WJVpPTMw.png)
we start with stars in our eyes
we start believing that we belong
we start believing that we belong
