☪️ —— T'was not his fault, confirming as he does, come a new visage within his peripheral — for much of her wear consumed her, leaving a waddling marshmallow to stand awkwardly amidst a pure white backdrop of powdered snow.
Many a monster donned the hue, and not one was to be trifled with. His amicable features belied his finesse with blade — and it would not be of surprise, come their demise, for their foolish assumption of weakness.
So call it amusing, then, that such prowess failed to translate come artistic endeavors!
Removed is the restrictive coat, for the warmth of his affection melted the frost tailing tender tendrils. To the door with her, for scalding cheeks — and the brilliant, burning lights bedazzling them — enliven her in turn, long enough to seal away the blizzarding beast.
Face-to-face with his craft, such beauty ( ah, for all her talents, she was no better — and thus the beholder’s eye had little to compare ) begets ajar lips and doe eyes engulfed by rejuvenated stars.
A flicker of the tongue betrays her. Though speech was not to be scorned, their shared silence soothed her — a welcomed variation of the enforced reticence she experienced in her youth. So while the quiver of lips insinuated incoming speech, quaking hands talk in turn.
‘ Papa… ’ She motions, though closed eyes and a head hunched into rising shoulders intervene upon her words.
A sniffle. She cups her cheeks, for a moment, only to blink amidst her own bewilderment. To no one’s surprise, the language of hands couldn’t be conveyed without hands — and so, with a chipper giggle at her own foolishness, she ‘speaks’ once more.
‘ That is so very kind of you…! To go through such effort for me… oh, I hope you are free to share them with me! I fear I cannot tackle them alone! It can be… a celebration! One for each… for our fateful encounter, your own days past, and mine! ’
━━━━ 「 ♘ 」 Always he feared her disappointment. That she would upturn her nose at his efforts and ask why he hadn’t got someone better suited for the job. But that was always just the anxiety speaking, wasn’t? So in spite of her often spoiled behavior, she accepts his gift without hesitation. Matching it with a smile so genuine and strictly Yin that his own cheeks are sore trying to mimic.
Juggling the cake into his left hand, he’ll sign a quick yes with his right. Setting it down on the table, as he pulls out a chair in invitation. Picking up her belongings and setting them carefully in the cutout beneath the stairs. No longer was it piled with boxes of Farosh knows what, but a bed he had crafted out for her long before. As much as he had enjoyed his stays in the kitchen chair so she could occupy his... She was deserving of her own. And his back hurt.
Patience was a virtue. Not that he cared. Half jogging even when in the confines of his own house. A drive-by push in if she’s taken her chair, otherwise he’s headed straight for the kitchen. Scooping up the other two cakes that mimicked the same font. Each worse than the last... but hey, at least that implied improvement?
This table wasn’t prepared to accommodate three full cakes, two plates, silverware, and glasses of milk but. It’s just going to have to. Even if it means his own plate has to be support by his hand not to teeter off the edge. And he’ll quickly dawn each with an array of candles. Lighting them diligently with the assistance of a fire arrow, before his eyes find her again.
titsay
blakekathryn
jbbartram-illu
snowghoul
yousharknotpass
annaxmalina
germansingergirl
romaincrisis
2087
stormborns
