Long brown hair cascaded down her back, it formed entertaining curls on its ends. They bounced and danced as the little girl hummed. Carefully, she trailed her fingers along the lines in the old book; muttering to herself, she redrew the images with her eyes, using all the strength in her to imagine detail by detail the fairy's wings. Her little session of storytelling ceased upon hearing a gentle knock on the door. Bright hazel eyes searched around the room for its owner and match – her mother. Perhaps she was busy, the little girl wondered. So, calmly she got up from the floor and trailed on the tip of her toes towards the door (carefully enough not to step on any of the flowers sprawled around). She stretched her body and her little fingers touched the silver-coloured knob of the front door. In a swift move, she opened the door – wide and far.
"Oh" Her voice welcomed in surprise the odd lady. Giggling, she pointed at the woman's shoed as she spoke in awe. "Your shoes are really pretty. I read about a fairy that had red slippers too."
"Really? What a wonderful thing, dear" Sweetly, the woman replied; masking her true essence, chaining it to a fake smile while her hands, full of desire and greed, clutched harder the basket behind her back. "And what kind of fairy was she?"
"Hmmmm. A good one" Nonchalantly, the little girl replied and yet, suddenly, her eyes sparked and in a disarray of words she added. "Oh, she has powers! Like, l-like ... she points at something and suddenly, very very fast, a flower shows up!"
Hurried footsteps echoed around the house. They echoed aggressively in the little girl's ears; they grew closer to her. The odd-looking woman seemed to grow agitated and, in her place, she fidgeted a bit.
"You believe in fairy's, don't you?" Slowly, the woman crouched in front of the little girl, so that they could be at the same level. "I bring a present then. One from that fairy you love... Want to see?"
The girl's eyes studied the odd woman once more. Besides the sparkling red slippers, there was nothing in the woman's attired that seemed fairy like. She had a dark black cloak covering her body, erasing any shape or life under it from the girl's eyes. And her face... well, the little girl could not see her face. She had a dark veil covering it, pressed tightly against her features. If anything, she looked like a witch.
"You are..." The little girl's small, weary voice asked; her eyebrows switching to a very inquisitive pose. "her friend?"
"Oh...!" The woman chuckled. Her lips curving upwards under the veil. Slowly, she leaned down, inching closer to the little girl's face. "Trust me dear, I am a really" Her index finger rapidly lifted the girl's face. Twitching, rather frenetically, the little girl attempted to move away from the women. Her nail, sharp and glass-like, kept digging deeper into her skin. "Really close friend of hers. I know all her tricks"
A loud thump echoed through the small wooden house and the little girl's heart suddenly jolted in fear, as she saw it, the red slipper entering the house. In a swift, aggressive movement, the odd woman lunged her body inside; without wasting a second of thought, as if scared of losing that chance. And then, before the little girl could mutter a word of consent or refusal, the odd woman opened her cloak. The darkness of the fabric blocked the light from the house; hiding the little girl from any careful eyes. There was nothing under the cloak; no body, no light, no nothing. If the little girl were to be brave enough to reach her hands forward, surely she would find nothing to touch, nothing to poke, to grasp. Her eyes widened in fear, realizing now, perhaps late – or too late in fact – that something was not right. Her barefoot feet spun hurriedly, the words already at the tip of her tongue to desperately call for her mother. And that's when she saw it – a brown basket. A very small basket that, from under the cloak, a bony, white, pale, deathly hand offered her. A red ribbon was on the handle, perfectly placed and inside – the little girl could not believer her eyes – a bundle of flowers. Bright red and vivid, slightly swinging in harmony with a sudden breeze. Her tiny hands approached warily the basket, her index finger reaching farther than the rest. Could they be real? Only seconds ago, the little girl had traced her fingers through the drawings on one; amazed at how nature could produce such a bright color, out of nothing. How could life just exist in something so beautiful and small, and gentle and... fragile.
YOU ARE READING
The True Alpha: Invictus // jjk
Fanfiction"Like this, in a small gesture as the opening of ones hands, in a simple gesture of bravery, Jungkook and Hani rebirthed the world and the life that once had been taken away from them. And as the girl's hands opened, gently and slowly, and as The Tr...
