grr hello i am still thinking about your sentiemilie au
emmy pov...imagine! you have no life before, and no life after. all you know is the House.
the House and those who live in it. the Man who stares too much. the Woman who averts her eyes. and the Boy who pities you, when it should be the other way around.
an intern, they call you - and you may not know much, but you do know that this is not what an intern should be doing.
the Man has you pose for him often. he designs clothes, he tells you, and more than that, he designs clothes for you. you stand in his office, eyes drawn to the large frame behind his desk. the empty frame.
perhaps he'll put a portrait of you up there some day, he says. you don't ask whose portrait used to be up there.
the Woman barely glances up from her tablet when you approach. you're here to help, you tell her. isn't that what an intern should be doing? her lips purse, as though you have said something wrong. but you don't know what wrong is - all you know is what you were told.
you're a hard worker, you insist. please, if there's anything you can do--
no, she says, harsh. but then, she softens. you can go spend some time with the Boy, she tells you. he'll be glad to see you.
then why aren't you glad to see me? you want to say. you never do.
the Boy is often in his room, a fact you don't quite understand. his door is not locked - not like yours so often is - but he acts like it is. like it would be the hardest thing in the world to wrap his hand around the doorknob and step outside.
with that, you sympathize. your world is the House. what could possibly lie beyond?
the Boy is so, so kind to you. he treats you like something fragile, something delicate - like if he closes his eyes and opens them again, you'll vanish. gone, back to wherever you were before the House.
he stutters over your name, the syllables unfamiliar in his mouth.
is there something else you'd rather call me? you ask him.
when it is your portrait on the wall? when the Woman sees you as an equal? when the Man finally tires of dressing you?
the Boy looks sad. because of you, perhaps. but when you rise to leave, his hand reaches out to catch yours.
you can stay, he says quietly. if you want.
you do want, so you stay.
i'm sorry, you say after a moment. if me being here... if it's making things hard for you.
it's all right, says the Boy, and he squeezes your hand. he is so very kind. but then he says: it's only temporary, after all.
you, he says. sooner or later, they'll get tired of you. sooner or later, they'll make a new one.
a new one. a new intern, a new model. a new family.
you think your heart would be pounding in your chest - if you had one.
HI NEMALI!!! my love!!! my insp!!
my god..... genuinely I adore your 2nd person pov writing, it just arrests me and I know it'll gut me sooner or later in the story and UGH!!
ALL YOU KNOW IS THE HOUSE!!! what an absolutely confusing situation. I just know Gabriel sanded her down just enough to not ask questions, but the right questions so she isn't boring to him.
"the Man has you pose for him often." SICKENING. and hello!!! emilie always haunting the narrative!!!
and Nathalie hating to face her--in some way, a cowards way out--but offering her a solace, a friend, someone who will genuinely and wholesomely be happy to see her. !!
"his door is not locked - not like yours so often is -" O H OH OH HELLO!! who locked it!!! does she understand on some level or is it Nathalie, protecting her, or Gabriel keeping her from leaving!!
him stuttering over her name and her asking if he'd rather something else GUTS me. the layers. "...no, he says, not yet." UGH!!! nemali please!!!
"you think your heart would be pounding in your chest - if you had one." EMMY ESCAPE THE HOUSE ESCAPE THE NARRATIVE I AM OUTSIDE THE GATE!!
thank you thank you thank you aaaaaa I genuinely LOVED this and I'm literally so over the moon at everyone who has sent in ideas and art and I love!!! this idea and how people are using it and yours, as always, are outstanding <3
oh emmy..... alexa play what was I made for.....!!!