I'm not sure how to describe it, when it started. But something I had put down to an inclination to be around him increased. Ten-fold. It was a beast, a burning fire, a master to my emotions.
Only he could make me doubt my actions so deeply, penetrate my dreams when I slept. Only he could make me cry into my hands, thinking what if, what if, what if. Only he could root my legs to the spot when he passed by. Only he could have coaxed out my very first smile. He had once called me beautiful... but it stopped.
It hurt me so much when it happened. I don't want to remember a single thing about him. But I don't want to forget it, either.
More than a year to date since I had last seen him, and I'd grown so much. And remembered. I had cried for the first time with him, and put it down to something in my eye, embarrassed and ashamed. He made me feel things that I didn't know I could feel. Instead of forcing me to confront my emotions, he humoured me.
Keep blinking, he'd said.
And somehow, then, I saw him. He looked like magic, an elf, an imp, a fairy. Blonde hair and eyes a colour you didn't see outside of dreams. He could still twist my heart into knots.
Willow.
YOU ARE READING
The Daughter of Death- *RAYOR*
AdventureI don't have to tell you about to me say I'm not normal. I don't even have to say my name. Just take my hand, and let me show you to the looking-glass. Look inside, and you'll see. I'm sixteen years old. I spend my life more with the dead than the...
