#|| inbox.

[lightsblooming]

“Take my hand— and stay close.”

@soulmissed

the candy cane residue still sticky and warm against mary's palm is probably much stronger at keeping their hands clasped together than her still-developing discipline. the mall is bright with christmas decoration; tinsel and ribbons and wreaths and artificial snow. in her mesmerization, she wants to grab hold of it all, make the holiday something tangible that she can understand. she hasn't had many, after all.

but there are toys too, propped up against wide window storefronts; giant plush teddy bears, dainty dolls, and toy trains.

she points with her free hand at things that tug her young heart.

"look—" she murmurs, her voice barely registering above the noise of the crowd of shoppers, eyes glistening under the string lights at a baby doll wrapped in yellow frills, "can i have?"

[lightsblooming]

after a day spent poking about the novelty and discount stores in the heart of chinatown, shèn jìhǎi finally finds the thing he's looking for: a coloring book full of animals. they're child-friendly versions, with wide eyes and friendly smiles. it's the sort of thing he thinks might cheer up a kid her age.

( he remembers the orphanage back on the mainland a bit too well, even though he was still so very little when he found out he was being adopted. he wishes he could forget, but whenever memories of it start creeping in, he thinks of his bàba, of being given the surname 'shèn' --- of being chosen, and wanted, and loved --- and the ugly memories start to fade away once more.

every child deserves to feel loved, after all. )

he takes a knee, smiling gently up at her. "what do you think ? they're very cute, hm ? kě'ài --- cute."

@xinxiins

it is learned at this point, that any time shèn jìhǎi comes home after going out, that he brings something back for mary—and while she would never be so bold to expect that it's guarenteed, she can't help but wait on the childish hope that today will be no different. so she's already hovering near the door when he returns, peeking curiously out from her hiding spot, her eyes drifting to the bag in his hand.

the coloring book is all bright; thick lines, friendly curves. it's the nicest coloring book she's ever seen, the first time she sees one that's entirely new, and entirely hers.

it feels nice to be given kindness, to be thought of like this. she smiles, warmth blooming in her chest.

"keyyy," she murmurs after him, her tiny hands reaching carefully to curls at the books edges.

[lightsblooming]

❝ here comes the tickle monster! ❞

@soulmissed

"no! no—!" mary shouts, the second no tapered off by a giggle that trails behind her as she quickly takes a few steps back to make distance from his playfully threatening approach.

three stumbles later and she turns around fully to run off proper, finding cover behind a chair. she stands on the other side of it, peeking at him through the gaps, her socked feet in idle shuffle as if trying to anticipate which way he'll try to circle around and grab her from.

[lightsblooming]

bié líng looks ... a little sadder than usual today, as if he's trying to withdraw into his hoodie; even so, it doesn't stop him from smiling brightly upon catching sight of the little girl. "jì-gēgē is staying home today. he doesn't feel good. what do you say ... should we buy him some pastries to help him get well soon ? and of course ... the best way to know what pastries to get is to try them all yourself ... "

[ from línglíng ! ]

@xinxiins

mary watches the way his expression sags before it rebounds, already apprehensive about the mention of jì-gēgē not feeling good. of course, she has questions—curiosity turning her head in the direction of the other room just as she starts fidgeting with her hands.

there is a budding worry creasing between her brows when she looks back at him, though they seem to smooth themselves out at the mention of pastries. there's only so much mary can hold with her attention at once, but the idea of helping brings some spark to her eyes.

she nods with an eagerness.

"i can help?"

[lightsblooming]

"what do you think about this one ?" jì jìngyè holds up a little clay figurine, smiling softly. it's ... a bit hard to decipher what exactly he'd been attempting to make --- though after some close scrutiny, it appears to be his best attempt at making a lop-eared bunny. he holds it out for mary to take. "shì tùzǐ --- it's a rabbit. tùzǐ. do you like him ?"

[ from jjy ;~; ]

@xinxiins

the little clay figure is held just slightly enough out of convenience that it coaxes mary out of her hiding spot, shyness dragging behind her as she moves closer. the endearing simplicity of the figure makes identifying it as a bunny pretty easy for her. and when he holds it out, her hands fidget in front of her, like she's not sure if she's supposed to take it from him or not. she settles for tugging at the hem of her shirt, eyeing it with a budding awe. it's not like she's familiar with the idea of owning anything at all; family, a home... these are all new.

but the concept alone of being able to make something like that is beyond her comprehension enough that it seems like magic.

"toosy," she says, quiet and unsure.

as for whether or not she likes it, she gives two nods.

[lightsblooming]

They're crouched over a bin that's chattering with the cheeps of chicklets. A heat lamp cusps over one side, a water bowl wedged on the other. . Pine shavings rustle beneath the pitter-patter of feet.

"All right, lil Miss," Cole grins, elbows perched on knees, "Henrietta's just hatched a few chicks, but they ain't got any names. How're you feelin' 'bout helpin' 'em out?"

inbox | @colecassiidy

mary sits with her legs tucked beneath her, the skirt of her dress floofed up and nestled into the pine shavings cushioning her against the bare ground. the sunlight illuminates the chicks in a way that almost makes them glow, their fuzzy baby feathers dissolving into the soft outline of light as her hands are curled against the edge of the crate, leaning in for a better look. she's never seen baby chicks before outside of a storybook. they're so small and precious—she has the impulsive urge to snatch them up and stuff them in her clothes.

she reaches out without warning, petting the closest one with an untrained hand.

"um, this one can be marshmallow—" marshmallow promptly gets yoinked out of the crate and hoarded into her lap; its the fluffiest chick of the bunch. she points to another chick near the water bowl, "liebling," then to another, tinier one, that keeps frantically hopping about, "bandaid," she says— which leaves three more. "rainbow," a chick with a speck on it's beak, "ted," a chick with a missing claw, and the last one dozing sleepily as close to the heat lamp as it can be, which mary stares at for a considerable moment before deciding on...

"princess sprinkles."

[lightsblooming]

"Ain't seen cereal cooked so good before," He taps the backside of his spoon on the float of cereal grain, "You made this just for us?"

— inbox || @colecassiidy

being early to rise has its perks for someone like mary. the safety that comes from the stillness of a house welcoming the faint morning light across hardwood floors, wallpaper decals, and the bushels of green from just outside the windows is the perfect transition from the comfort of her dreams.

"yeah," she nods, perking up a little at the compliment.

the cereal is already a little soggy; she'd made that first upon her unsupervised foray into the kitchen, finding it easier to tackle than the coffee (despite the absolute mess on the table) since there's a lot of things about coffee she just doesn't understand. the coffee grounds in the garbage, however, gave her a clue, which sent her just outside the porch to gather some fresh dirt for cole's mug. she added water, somehow managed to climb up to the microwave and put it inside, heat it up after pressing '1' for one cup, and then— she'd left it there, because she became too aware of how high it had been on the way up, and the idea of grabbing something hot had intimidated her.

mary is not at the stage yet where she can prepare a meal, but she's seen angela make him food more than once, so naturally, she's trying to emulate that as best she can; angela isn't here, which means maybe it's up to her.

she points to the microwave, her other hand still gripped to the edge of the table, eyes barely able to reach over it without standing on her tip toes, "and— and i made you coffee so you can drink it with your breakfast."