Delicate Pulse | Violentine

My First Friend

(tw: mention of bl**d)

Violet's POV

There she is.

Her hair is red velvet. When she sways the sunlight hits it, igniting a waterfall flame. It pours down her shoulders and her perfect posture. Her lungs fill and exhale with lyrics. Her hands pluck a magic melody. She is angelic and I can't keep my eyes off her.

Then suddenly her voice breaks from a melody to a call, directly at me.

"Hello?"

I stumble, dropping as fast as my heart, slipping, clawing at the bark. Splinters bury deep into the skin. I yelp, I swear and my head knocks against the tree.

She calls again, more disturbed. "Are you okay behind there?"

I wouldn't mind death paying a visit right now, or Satan, someone to drag me out of existence. I deserve it by this point.

Spiralling, I disappear for a few seconds and it's dark. Then, a movement of light and I look up to see red. The wind whispers, flickering strands of flame across her crystal eyes. They are wide, blinking. She kneels and gasps.

"Your hands!"

Blood puddles in the crevasse of my fingernail, rolling down knuckle as I raise it. I wipe it on my jeans and she gasps again. "No, don't do that!"

Grabbing me by my wrist, she gently guides me to her bag where her guitar lays beside. She unzips it and unfolds a small square of worn fabric. She cradles my hand in her grasp and dabs at it. I focus on the cotton soaking up red like a sponge. I think how the blood will most likely stain it forever, infecting it. Similar to the feeling infecting me right now as she holds my palm.

I clear my throat. "You don't have to..."

"It's okay," she reassures. "Blood is gross. You don't want it on your jeans."

I really didn't care at all. Being thirteen, I'm used to getting blood on my jeans by now. I keep this thought to myself.

She tries her best to pick out the thick sticks poking out my skin. She is very cautious about it, her touch airy yet so precise. She remains perfectly still as if she was still playing her guitar. I glance at the instrument relaxed beside her. The wood is slightly tattered by the edges but its glossy coat remains gleaming.

She notices and grins. "Do you want to try?"

I'm not sure if I do. I'd probably break it, ruin it somehow. She swipes the last droplet of blood off me and I'm still silent. She lifts the guitar and plays a tune. A different one from before, it's lighter and sweeter. She slowly stops and repositions it. "It's okay. Give it a go."

My fingers are still throbbing but I don't want to refuse. I look at it and back at her for more approval. As she nods I stretch out and drag my fingertips down the strings. I'm so steady that each note is heard on its own. High to low. From my head to my toes, I feel each note in my bones.

"See, it's not scary," she hums. "What's your name?"

I hesitate. "Violet," I say flatly.

"That's a really pretty name," she beams and my face burns. "My name is Minerva."'

"I know," I whisper, ducking my head. "Your name. Not that...not that my name..."

Shit.

She doesn't mind though. She laughs and tucks her hair behind her ear. "You can call me Minnie. All my friends do."

Now I really can't stop staring at her. Friend?

Minnie sinks to the ground onto her back. She turns her head and keeps her attention on me as she jams away. I shift closer, hugging my knees to my chest. I rest my chin high enough to peer over my knees so I don't break her gaze. Her eyebrows raise and she bites her smile. Eventually, her crystal eyes flash to the sky and my ears are flooded with her beautiful voice.

There she is. My first friend.

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It's nice to see things from a different perspective from time to time ;)

~ Ash