Today, she’s happy. She figures it out after a couple of steps towards the kitchen, chest jumping and breath easy. She looks around, eyes catching the corner of a sun beam, and she reaches out towards it, fingers quickly engulfed in something bright and clear, and her gasp almost gets stuck in her throat.
Small pearls of dust fly around her fingers, something alike to quiet whispers in a bright room with many people.
So she smiles genuinely, and moves on.
But he comes back into her life at some point, hard and brutal and without any thought and her breath shatters once again.
,,Please, dear, I only want to be a part of your life – I never wanted to hurt you.”
But you did.
,,I only wanted to be your father.”
You weren’t. You aren’t. You never will be.
,,No,” she gasps, eyes wide and lips trembling. ,,Leave. Don’t you dare take anything from me. I’m not that kind of person anymore. Turn around. And leave.”
He stares at her, because when and where did she come back, when did she spur back into something alive and easy and-
,,It is not a question. It is a demand. Go.”
And he doesn’t.
,,Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god-“
The paper says nothing, pen overwriting said words.
,,I like your smile,” they say one day, and she looks up, eyes, as always around them, blinking in surprise. ,,That was a bit sudden.”
,,I like sudden.”
,,And my smile,” she adds, biting away her giddiness. ,,Mhm. And your smile. You have dimples, you know that?”, they ask and she can’t help but laugh. It feels good, except her stomach hurts a bit.
,,Yeah, I noticed it at some point in my sixteen years old life.”
,,Why but dear, is that sarcasm, young lady?”
,,Maybe. Would it be a problem?”, she asks, her tone challenging them teasingly.
,,I just said that!”, she laughs, pushing softly at them and they respond with that kind of smile that leaves your stomach jumping.
,,What, the word ‘maybe’ suddenly became forbidden to use after you?”
,,Exactly. You’re learning. Good one,” she responds mischievously, patting their head kindly. But then they grab her arm, which she isn’t ready for at all, and when they pull she feels like a dust, and then she crashes into them, something they weren’t ready for, because then they are both falling, bodies leaving the bench they were sitting on just a minute ago.
The two of them becomes a tangled, laughing mess of bodies when they hit the ground.
And laughing becomes breaths that hurts, but this time, she doesn’t mind.
,,You’re going out more frequently at the time,” her mother greets her when she arrives home, and she stops and smiles.
,,Yeah. It feels right at the moment. At the time, even.”
Her mother looks at her and her eyes are soft and glad and relieved.
,,Good. I’m happy to hear.”
The next two days, she doesn’t touch her paper or pen. Instead, she sticks her hand out in the sun beam and grabs ahold, not letting go.