You're a tired traveler. Someone who just quit an awful job and got a ticket to travel different countries in search of happiness. Somehow you got lost in a snowy mountain (you're not really a clever person) and are in desperate need of sleep and warmth.
On the distance you spot a building, kinda victorian style which honestly you love. Your last functioning braincell tells you its a good place to look for help and so you comply.
The building is old, you notice, but you can see light coming from the inside and you knock. Nobody answers but the door opens by itself. 'Nice' you think.
When you enter you call for the owner but no one comes. You look around and find the dining room, where a table is ready with served plates of many different dishes. You hesitate. You're hungry, but your mom taught you that it's rude to grab food from another if it's not offered, and to do so in their own roof, well... You decide not to grab anything.
Trying to be respectful you stop on the living room and refrain from snooping around, waiting instead patiently for the owner to arrive, hoping that you weren't intruding too much.
It's then when you notice something odd. There are parts of dolls hanging from the ceiling here and there. Even some other complete dolls are scattered around the room. You think it's weird, but shrug it off in the end. You had an obsession with round rocks when you were a kid, to the point of filling the shelves on your room with a variety of pretty rocks, so you wouldn't judge the owner for having dolls all over their house.
You wait and wait, until hours pass by and still no one shows up. You're starting to get sleepy, and so you curl on the couch, your body begging you to get some shut eye.
You can feel your consciousness slipping away and even though you fight it soon you fall into a deep slumber.
It's cold when you wake up. It's dark.
Only the moonlight coming from the outside provides a bit of visibility. The place looks different without the warm light of the candles and the shadows decieve you.
You're still groggy with sleep and don't really think too much about it, but when you look down you see an old, slender doll, ratty but with a beautiful, if a little dirty, white dress. You think it's a pretty doll, despite having a face that would creep many people out. But not you. No, you actually like her. You don't hesitate in picking her up and holding it close to your chest, snuggling her while drifting back to sleep.
The doll feels warm in your arms and you sigh in content before everything goes black again.
You definitely don't notice the illusion breaking, revealing a very flustered Donna Beneviento laying beside you. She tries to wiggle her way out but your hold on her is strong and in your dreaming state you squeeze her softly, closer to you. Donna's heart is racing and her mind is reeling.
What in the world were you doing? How was it that you weren't afraid of Angie when most people screamed in terror at the sight of her? Why were you holding her? And why in hell did she feel so comfortable and safe in your arms?
She had tried to play cat and mouse with you, just like with every other unfortunate person that happened to pass by her lair, awful people who always tried to take something of value from her home, people who looked at her dolls with a grossed out expression on their faces, or people who simply wouldn't respect anything. But you... surely there must be something wrong with you.
There must something wrong with her.
Donna is enjoying herself too much in your arms, and she knows she shouldn't. She takes a deep breath but soon realize it's a mistake when she inhales your scent. To her you smell sweet, just like the fruits she likes, though with a tint of something spicy that she cannot place.
It frightens her, that she feels like this with you. She doesn't even know your name, for goodness sake! But... there's something.
It's been around two hours now and Donna doesn't think she'll be able to go through the whole night. She wants you to wake up. She wants to talk to you, get to know you. But at the same time she's pretty comfortable where she is. It's been ages since she was last held like this, with care, because even in your slumber you are so tender, gentle. Your touch on her is caring and you don't notice but unconsciously your thumb is rubbing circles on her back.
Your phone rings and you stir, starting to wake up. Donna is debating if she should conjure another illusion or if she should let you see her, but it's too late and you're face to face.
You're reaction is immediate. You jump away from her with a scream, dropping the phone on the floor.
The candles lit again, seemingly out of nowhere.
Donna won't admit it, but she's hurt by your reaction. She knows she shouldn't. You're nothing to her, she doesn't even know you. You're just another useless bag of flesh and bones and–
"... mean to, I'm sorry..."
"...and i fell asleep and- and... Oh god, im really sorry i didn't know i was holding you. You must think I'm so rude. I'm sorry for intruding too. I waited for somebody to come but i was tired and i fell asleep, im sorry." You apologize to the woman. She is wearing a veil and you can't see her face, but the way she breaths makes you think she's mad, or at least offended by you. "I could have swore i was holding i doll. Haven't you seen a doll this size? It was a cute doll, but maybe i was dreaming."
Donna doesn't know what to do. Her heart is hammering in her chest and her breathing is ragged. You are so much more cute than she thought...
She let out a relieved sigh, for a moment she thought you were frightened by her, just like the others before you, but you were only startled and surprised to see her laying in your arms. And when you called Angie cute her heart skipped a beat, no one besides her had ever said Angie was cute and she was surprised you thought so. Donna wanted to laugh when you apologized for holding her when it was her who caused all the mess. She found your rambling cute but she wouldn't tell you. She wanted to ask so many questions, but she couldn't. She was so used to speak through Angie that the thought of speaking by herself made her nervous.
Angie is on another room and while Donna could call her she decides she would like to use her own voice this time. There's something about you that screams to her, that pulls her in.
To you her voice is gorgeous, a little raspy, but soft nonetheless.
"Would you like some tea?"
If you love my work, buy me a coffee?
titsay
yousharknotpass
stormborns
pixelskylines
areudirty
gummygunk
