"If your eyes could speak, what would they say?"
-𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐃 every letter,
she sends it off with a kiss and
carries it with love in her heart.
When a peculiar omen pulls her
to believe that the countless
letters she's been sending...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
❝ AND I WAS HAPPY TO HAVE YOU THERE. ❞
─────────────────
SNOWY DAYS || age seven
ON DAYS LIKE these when the city is covered in a heavy layer of pure, white snow, I am always looking out the window and wistfully wasting my day making fog from my breath. And usually, I'm very understanding of my situation. But I'm mostly upset on snowy days when I hear children laughing around in the snow, having fun.
It was a kid's dream to ruffle around in the snow. It is one of mine most of all. But I'm too frail to take a step outside even with a coat as big as my dad's. It wasn't fair. It certainly didn't feel fair.
To be honest, besides being able to play in the snow like a normal kid, there's a bigger reason why I want to go outside. Why I have to go outside. I had a nightmare. And I think that nightmare told me about the future. On a snowy day like this where I could only dream of being able to take a foot out the door, a girl about my age with brunette hair was going to die.
What else would I do with that information? There was a slim chance that it was something to take seriously, but if there was a chance that I was the only person to know about someone's death, I couldn't just sit still by the window wishing for a chance.
I whipped my head around at the sound of shuffling downstairs. It had to have been my mom. Hastily turning the knob of my door, I ran down to see a slightly disheveled version of mother. Her hair was loosely tied in a low ponytail. She rushed to put on her boots and wore a heavy jacket meant for arctic situations.
"Momma?" I called. She looked at me almost alarmed but her eyes soon softened once she recognized me.
"Oh. .dear." She smiled, standing up from the entrance to warmly pat my head. A familiar feeling bubbled in me; the feeling of motherly love. She was parting with me, probably for a while if she was giving me that somber expression. "Sorry y/n, there was an urgent call in Dragonspine. Your dad needs more hands to help him."
Mom works for the Adventurer's Guild. She gets mildly important commissions every once in a while that take about days or possibly even weeks. If she's lucky, a couple of hours. A trip to Dragonspine means she probably won't be back for a week or so.
"I'll come back and make you your favorite stew, okay?" She closed her eyes as she smiled, adjusting the zip on her jacket. I could only look up at her in hopes that she'd pat my head again. If she's going to be with dad, she'll be fine.
I nodded despite my conflicted feelings, "Promise?" I held my measly pinky up.
Her eyes flashed between me and my shaky hands. And eventually, she locked her gloved pinky over mine and whispered the words back to me. "I'll bring back that scatterbrained dad of yours, I promise."
