MOLTEN HEART ♱ BELLY CONKLIN

05. Oblivion Is The Curse

ILLICIT BLUES.
05.   ╱ Oblivion Is The Curse

   OCEAN WAVES CRASHED UPON EACH OTHER AS MARIGOLD WOKE WITH A YAWN. The window on the other side of her bed was opened just a crack, sending a cold breeze into the room. Marigold almost shivered as a gust of wind rushed into her room, sending goosebumps down her arms and legs. The air smelled like the beach. Her lips lifted into a small smile at the scent that wrapped around her like a warm blanket.

   She reached over to the other side of the bed, finding it empty. Her eyes fluttered open in confusion before realizing Belly must have already left. She felt a slight pang when she noticed her absence. The girl stretched her arms above her head, reaching up toward the ceiling before dropping them to the her side. Pulling the sheet off of her, she moved off the bed to get dressed.

    Walking over to my closet, Marigold grabbed a pair of shorts along with a blue and white cropped shirt. She pulled her hair into a ponytail before braiding it. Then she paired it all with a pair of white converse. She left the room, closing the door behind her, before making her way downstairs where she heard mumbled voices.

"Do we really have to physically sit for our portraits?" She heard her brother ask as she turned around the corner. Jeremiah stood up against the stove, cooking his hangover potion. Steven stood, probably too close to the boy, peering over his shoulder. Marigold looked to the other side of the room to find a seated Laurel working on her computer. "Can't she just, like, look at a picture on her phone or something?"

"Okay, get out," Jeremiah demanded of the boy behind him.

"What? Why?" Steven laughs with confusion as he slowly backs away from the boy.

"Good morning," Marigold interrupts, making herself known. Laurel turned toward her, sending a sweet smile while wishing her a good morning. The two boys nodded in greeting.

"She needs to see you in order to capture your essence. While you're young and full of hope," she declares, earning weird looks from the teenagers. "Her words."

"Well, Conrad does not have hope, actually," Jeremiah jokes. "He's hopeless, but my hangover smoothie───it cures all."

"Can you just hurry up?" Conrad whines from the living room where he lied sprawled out on the couch.

"Just go back to bed, all right?" Jeremiah said to the boy.

   Steven began to close in on Marigold's brother, once again, peering over his shoulder. "All right, seriously, Steven. Get out. This is a delicate science and your heavy breathing is going to break the yolk."

"She hasn't painted you since you were little," Laurel says, breaking apart whatever was happening between the two boys. "I think it'd be nice to have these pictures for when you're older."

"Old? No. When I'm older, I'm sure there'll be holograms or something I can watch myself, you know?" He offers and Marigold rolls her eyes.

"No, I don't know. That sounds stupid," she declares and the boy flipped her off, mumbling: "Shut up, Goldilocks."

   The girl flinches as Jeremiah starts blending his weird drink, the loud noise taking her by surprise. Maybe she was a bit too hungover herself, that was way too loud.