Ink Blots

un

to Safiye: thank you for being such a lovely person.

lilac; (the flower which symbolizes first emotions of love)

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dear north;

   I have to admit, I didn't like you very much when we first met.

You reminded me of the cigarettes my father smoked, even though he promised to quit. You were the smoke in the air, polluting and ruining every pure object in our small universe. You were everything I promised my mother to stay away from, everything opposite to love and life.

   You were bordering on dead, when we first met. You picked up your little sister from her tutoring lessons and left without speaking to anyone. Your green eyes were bloodshot red and your heart was bleeding out on my front door.

I didn't try to clean it up, my mops were too clean and I didn't want to risk tainting them with such poison. I went to sleep that night haunted by your eyes; and wondered if, somewhere, amidst the dirt and leftovers, you were good.

   "Hello," I said to you the next Friday. "You're Valerie's brother?" I assumed you were hearing.

   "No shit," you said. I had no choice but to look at your mouth, North. Your lips were the only way for me to understand you."You can hear me?"

   I flinched at your choice of words, then shook my head. "I can read your lips, I can't hear you."

   And I don't know why you looked at my lips once I said that. You made me nervous. You were just a little taller than me, but you made my heart shrink in my ribcage and shake.

   "Cool," you smiled. North, you smiled. I swear to you, I saw the color of your eyes change like seasons right in front of me. Red leaves, yellow snow, blue rosebuds and the sun; shining so freely that it melts skin. "Thank you for helping Val. She's been getting better."

   How did you know? She signed to me, earlier that day, that you hadn't been home in a week, that she only saw you when you picked her up.

   I wanted to ask, but didn't. It wasn't the right thing to do. "You're welcome. I'm assuming your mom and dad will be picking her up next week?"

   "You're assuming wrong," you spoke slowly, and it was winter again. "Her mom and," you scoffed, "dad, won't be doing shit."

   "You don't need to curse," I looked down to Valerie, who held your hand tightly. There were bruises, starting at your wrist. Or tattoos; I wasn't too sure. By the end of the year, I would know your body better than I knew my own.

   "It's not like she's gonna hear me—" you opened your mouth and closed it again. "What the fuck is your name again?"

   I clenched the doorknob, "Lilac."

   "Like Lela?"

   "No. Like Lilac, but I don't pronounce the c."

   "Then your name is Lila-c."

   "No, just li-la."

   "I'm going to call you Lilac with a c."

   "That's not my name."

   "Does that really matter, sweetheart?"

    And you left. It didn't matter, not even a little bit. I learned to love the way you said my name with time, anyway.

yours truly, lilac

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this one's writing style is a bit different, and in 2nd pov. let's see how this goes. I'm very excited for this. Comment your thoughts, vote if you like it and spread love in every step!

love, yas