“Mama. Mama, I can’t breathe.”
Iduna smiled softly from where she knelt, a low hum escaping the brunette’s lips. She realized her daughter must have been eyeing the alarming Betadyne sitting next to the six year old’s hockey helmet, the incoming sharp pain was more than enough to trigger the little girl’s asthma.
“Yes, yes you can darling. It’s alright. You’re okay.”
Blue oceans met identical ones, in comforting motherly waves. Like a cigarette’s smoke from a chapped mouth, the little blonde’s visible breaths drifted about among the cascading snowflakes, accelerating overwhelmingly.
The feel of purple polyester tucking in her silent sobs somehow soothed her shivering form.
Looking up, expecting for her eyes to be blinded by the faint sunlight, Elsa blinked, and found her mother looking back at her instead.
A warm hug.
The foul taste of the matte lipstick painting her lips lingered like an unwanted intruder in her tongue as her pearl white teeth dug through the petal soft flesh. Her lungs seemed like they refused to do their part, as her breaths began to grow more shorter and shallow than that of a normal pace, and if someone could see past her pale complexion, she was paler than how she naturally is as of the moment.
“But sometimes, things won’t be.”
“Hey. Elsa, Elsa. It’s okay. Please calm down.”
No, no, of course she couldn’t—words had always been meaningless, useless, nothing effective, nothing that could sway what she thought of. They were just like dolls made out of glass, they could break and the shards could stab her right and through. Like sugar coatings.
“Things won’t always be okay,” Iduna admitted, her tone felt blunt, but her voice always feels like a caress, just like the flexible cotton she wore. It was satisfying to find tears drying, instead of pouring, “And when they aren’t, and you feel like you want to cry...”
Her lips quivered, and her frame shuddered against the coldness of the concrete wall. She couldn’t hear anything. Aiden found the silence deafening, but for now he knew the silence was what Elsa would prefer right now.
But he needs to do something. At least, it’s all that he could do.
Lowering down, outstretching his arms, he waited for a silent rejection, a shove, a noise of disapproval. For once he didn’t want to meet her eyes, which were painfully dazed.
“Let someone hold you, like this.”
The sting melted away like ice, and Elsa winced when she tried to move her wounded leg, a sharp pain blooming past the white gauze. “B-but—but what if there is no one to hold me? What if you aren’t around?”
Iduna chuckled softly, her hand meeting her daughter’s braided locks. Kneeling again, she cupped the little girl’s jaw and chin, and whispered.
“There will always be somebody around for someone, my love.”
He smells like Spring. He feels like flowers.
YOU ARE READING
𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰
Romance❝I'm sorry I wasn't your yesterday.❞ Elsa's life was deprived of happiness. Not until she found two strangers; one whose smile can heal any broken hearts out there, and one who was mesmerized by her instead of the stars. Elsa's life was deprived o...
