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[longwillows]

reach out?

the smell of fresh water in dry desert air. the feeling of cautious curiosity. a place as dangerous as it is resplendent.

c

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[longwillows]

[She doesn't mean to overwhelm or frighten. She is always acutely, torturously aware of how her expressions of feeling could affect others, particularly those she cares for. No matter how hard she tries to shake that awareness, tries to remind herself that it isn't her responsibility to protect the feelings of others, it is rote to her to navigate interactions by the compass of someone else's emotion.

But she won't lie about what she's feeling. She is owed that much. Particularly if she wants to be understood—wants to entrust Kalmiya Longwillow to the people that could love her. So there is a sense of patience, of quiet and stillness as Sharon navigates what Kalmiya has given her. Present, persistent, but not pushing. It is terrifying to be known, and it can be painful to allow yourself to be loved.

None of this will stop Kalmiya from loving, though.

Time is a strange thing in these dreams; normally the ritual for this trick would take a little longer. But she focuses, imagines the passage of the minutes, and lets a sense of that time wash over her as she briefly lifts one hand to conjure a shimmering pink energy which fills out in a domed shape over them like glaze pouring over a cake. Immediately it insulates the space inside from the commotion of the banquet. Leaning at one angle allows a view through the translucent arcane force to the surroundings outside; looking from the opposite renders it opaque. Like a lenticular, a shutter to be closed to anything else going on. Sound is dimmed. Heard if necessary and quieted if unwelcome.

She doesn't explain herself, but there is a sense of security that both projects from Kalmiya and settles into her as she creates the magical dome. A reprieve from being threatened and a relief from being perceived. A cool breeze over the heat in her soul, an oasis in which she can ease the bleeding and burning.

With her now-free hand, she reaches up to Sharon's cheek to wipe her tears, the tip of her thumb nudging scantly beneath the bottom of her mask to clear any that have gathered where the intricate accessory rests against her skin. She gives a small smile—so small, so gentle, for the breadth of love woven into their tether.] I think we share in that good fortune.

[merged]

[ A dome of pink settles around them, a gentle drape of magic like a curtain drawn between them and the banquet beyond. A magic Sharon has never seen, but she understands its purpose almost immediately, the din of the world quieting until it's a distant sound, and a sense of security blankets her. A safety she didn't even realize she'd needed.

Relief makes the tears fall faster, as thick and hot as they are frustrating, and when the older woman reaches out to wipe them away, Sharon doesn't pull back or flinch. She inhales sharply through her nose, then draws in a deeper breath, enough to reset her nerves, to calm the tremulous rhythm of her heart.

I think we share in that good fortune, Kalmiya says, her smile so small, so personal, and somehow it encompasses every piece of love within her. Something inside Sharon is giving way, an old stone barrier crumbling, one she hadn't even realized she'd built up brick by rotted brick. She doesn't know how to process it. She can barely wrap her mind around it. All the pain in the world couldn't have prepared her for the ache of being loved without the strings of parenthood attached. ]

I don't get it. [ Softly. She's only ever brought bad luck to the people who love her. It hurts as much as it confuses. And yet, at the same time, she cherishes it. She reaches up to take Kalmiya's hand, holding it like a lifeline in her trembling hand. ] But thank you.

[ She doesn't have to get it to accept it. ]