This is a random piece I had to write for school but love it to much not to share. And who knows I might add to it.
A: “How good of a mood are you in right now?” Person B: “... what did you do?”
I walk into the room slowly to try and silence my footsteps. I shut the door behind me and cringe at the creaks that burst through the silence and give me away. The singing I heard stopped abruptly, indicating she’d heard the door give away my attempt at sneaking through and not disturbing her. However I hear her open her study door and know there’s no point in being silent anymore so I straighten myself and prepare my explanation. She enters the room and I can’t help but give a small smile. She’s in her painting clothes, the oversized hoodie that has been demolished by layers of pain throughout the years. Her leggings suffered the same as her hoodie and her long black hair is put messily in a bun atop her head, with strands of hair falling down her face. She pushes her glasses up as she glares at me.
“Why are you sneaking?” She asked, already knowing I’ve done something. How much do I tell her? The less she knows the safer she’ll be. That way she can stay and paint for as long as she likes. She can stay happy and not in danger.
“I wasn’t?” I ask more than I can say. It’s worth a try, even though there’s no way she’d let me off the hook that easily. She huffs a sigh and gives me the look of I’m not stupid. I walk towards her, angling my bag behind me and give her what I hope is a convincing smile. She doesn’t return it.
“How good of a mood are you in right now?” I ask as I place myself in front of her. Her eyes widened with the implications she was right. That I did do something wrong. Not wrong per say but an action that could lead to danger.
“What did you do now?” She throws her hands up in exasperation. She turns and I follow her into her study. Her unfinished painting hangs on her easel, a skyline of a city at night. I smile at her work, my own problems fading for just a second at the beautiful picture she created. She begins to pack away her paints, waiting for my explanation and knowing she won’t have time today to finish it because she has to deal with the mess I’ve made. I take a minute to recall today’s events, and a way to say them without her going ballistic at me.
“So err... funny story really,” I begin, causing her to look back at me a sigh. It’s one of those stories she must think. I still don’t understand why she puts up with my antics but what I do understand is that I couldn’t live without her at this point. She’s essential in my life, not just because she fixes the messes I make but because he makes everything better in her weird little way. ‘Yeah so I was walking along, minding my business and I see this man stealing from this woman and child. And we can’t have that can we? No. So I basically pushed him off the woman. Which as you can guess made him angry.”
She finishes moving her easel to the back of the room and spins to face me. “Do I need to know the rest or just the name of the man you angered?”
I rub the back of my head. There’s a lot she doesn’t know. A lot that would make her brain hurt trying to figure out why I did what I did. Some pieces even I can’t wrap my head around. “Well, I beat him up.”
“Him being?” She asks impatiently.
“Grogan? Are you serious. Brother to the man who owns the assassin guild? Good job.” She drawls sarcastically at me as she try to figure out what this means for us.
“That’s not all.” I mumble. I really hate this part. The explaining. I know now she doesn’t really hate or judge me. But it’s like I’m talking to my mother and she’s going to ground me. Which she did often. Mainly because I picked fights with the other kids but she never bothered to ask why. At least Zara cares about the why more than the what. I don’t act without a reason. “So the guards saw me beating him and I tried to explain he was robbing this woman, and I turn to point but the woman had ran, the child with her obviously. So they took me down to the station and fined me 200 gold coins. Which I know is what I needed to use to get us food. And I knew that that was our last.”
“What did you steal?” She already knows how I tried to redeem the situation. My attempt to fix it. She doesn’t look angry, which is good. I step towards her to help her pack the paint. The least I could do is help her with her mess. However small it is compared to mine.
“Some silk. Just a small piece and a ring. I figured you could sell them to one of the merchants. Use your charm to get the 200 back.”
“We both know I have the same charm as a tree.” She snorts.
I smile knowing how far from the truth that is. “I guess I must really like tress then.” I say as I take off my bag and hand it to her. After she’s changed she can go out and get us what I lost. Maybe extra.
“I guess so.” She tells me through her laughs as she leaves the room. Now we have to figure out how to deal with Samuel because he decides he doesn't like me beating him up so easily or mixing with his business. So long as they don’t send assassins Zara and I we should be fine. Maybe they’ll fine us like the guards do, but I don’t think that’s their style. Maybe we’ll be fine. I hope for Zara’s sake they focus on me and not her.
She enters the kitchen a few minutes later, cleans from all the pain. Her hair now hangs loose down her back and her rags are replaced with a summer dress. She set my bag down on the counter and assessed the ring and silk. “Are you mad?”
She looks up from her exception and considers my question. “Slightly, I mean I understand your actions but that doesn’t exactly stop the brothers leader being mad at us.”
Us. She uses the word us so freely like it was her who told me to help the woman. Like she was with me instead of her painting her worries away and singing freely as I potentially ruin our lives.
“I’m sorry.” I say placing a glass of water down as a small attempt to show that I am.
“I know. It’s fine. We’ll figure it all out like we always do. We’re a team remember. Don’t give me that look. I know you want me safe but that doesn’t mean I can’t help with the dangerous stuff. I’m trained, you're trained. So long as we don’t anger them anymore than we have to try to negotiate peace we’ll be fine.” She explains as she sets the ring and silk back in the bag. “This will get us at least 250.”
“With your charm 300.”I point out and she laughs loudly. I smile back at the woman I love. I move round the counter and kiss the top of her head. “Thank you.”
I sigh into her hair, “why am I with you?” I ask even as my heart bursts with joy.
“M tree-ish charm. We’ve literally just covered this. Keep up.” I move as she stands up, shoving the bag over her shoulder and giving me a kiss before she leaves to get us food.
(I have no idea my tags, it’s been so long since I’ve posted.)
dededos
areudirty
janainaart
theartofmadeline
titsay
