lostghcst asked: ❝ I don’t want to rob you of the joy of climbing a tree. ❞
What time is it in Moscow? What was the weather like? Was a chill still chomping away at spring’s attempts at life? It’s blooming here. Life is flourishing, and his attention has been caught by one of the saplings bursting forth from the dirt now. Just meters from a tree destined to rival it in size for years to come. He almost bends down to run his fingers along a tiny leaf sprouting from it, to touch life forming, but he doesn’t feel his hands that have brought so much death should. He moves to the tree behind it instead. Eyes quickly traveling up the trunk till the sun shining through breaks in the leaves started to dot his vision.
He starts to bring his hand up to the trunk of this tree, too, but retracts it when he hears the snap of a twig behind him. He whips around, on alert. The Aguilar’s weren’t expecting any guests at the house today, let alone the grounds. When he turns to hunt down the perpetrator, however, he is stopped by the sight of the Aguilar’s daughter, Catalina. A vision of a girl. One he has the gift of even seeing at the moment. She must have used her powers to slip out and dropped them when she found him here. His shoulders droop, the tightness that spark in his chest like wildfire at the noise begins to unwind.
“I don’t want to rob you of the joy of climbing a tree.”
A laugh escapes. Quick. Too short. He still wasn’t used to laughing, or to having a reason to laugh. But, she always gave him one. “Never robbing. You bring it.” Waving her closer, he turns back around to face the tree. Staring at it as if it might wither beneath his gaze if he kept looking too hard at it. He was still refusing to touch it either. When Catalina joins him, though, an unknown bubbling stirs in his insides and he doesn’t let himself diminish his smile or stop himself from resting his hand on top of hers, squeezing it lightly as he brings it up to rest on the tree. His hand feeling only the heat from her skin as she felt bark, felt life. “Trees never bloom like this in Russia.” This tree was full of life; bountiful and too, too green. And he got to feel it through her. She gave him the gift of life without even knowing it, in more ways than one. “It’s beautiful,” he breathes, gazing at their hands then at Catalina. She was the most beautiful thing he ever felt.
