he tucked a bright blue flower in her hair with a grin, quickly shifting to sit across from her once he felt that it was properly secure. ❝ i found that earlier and thought you might like it. it’s pretty, huh? ❞ his grin only grew wider, eyes shut in an expression of absolute glee. ❝ it reminded me of you! ❞
@wiindus / broken dolls & broken glass & ice & ( … ) flowers?
Despite watching the hand lift and raise towards her face, she’s still startled by the touch, shoulders going briefly rigid. Yet the fear goes as quick as it came, eyes half - lidding in apparent delight as she realizes his intention. Oh! Tucked behind her ear —— and it’s so pretty. A hand raises to press to the flora gently / carefully, and a bright, helpless giggle flutters past her too - pale lips. What a sweet gift, and it’s her favourite colour, too.
“Thank you, Ven! It is pretty!” She watches his face go happier —— he’s all but glittering in the bright warmth of his joy. Impossible for the mirror girl not to reflect it. And he says it — reminded him of her?
That startles her; she feels her lips part and her eyes widen. Of her? There’s a brief but savage rejection that flits through her skull; she is the opposite of this. Flowers are growth and life and softness and flowers are PRETTY and she is ———— a doll / glass / the aftermath of something / crystal ice / barely even a girl. And he thinks that she is…
He thinks that she is like the flower tucked into her hair.
It’s strange that she feels tears pressing at her eyes, and not so strange that she rapidly blinks them away before laughing, bright as his joy, and grabbing Ventus in a hug that’s only a little awkward.
He thinks she is like something ALIVE and BEAUTIFUL.
“Thank you —— thank you. That’s the NICEST THING anybody’s ever said to me.”
