Caim:
(n.) Lit. "sanctuary"; an invisible circle of protection, drawn around the body with the hand, that reminds you that you are safe and loved, even in the darkest times.
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"I just want love," s...
Perfect. Neat. Just the way she left it. Grand-mère always said the first thing you should do when you wake up is make your bed, just as she did.
The sheets remain untouched all these years. I had to make sure her scent was saved, saved all throughout this house.
If I forget her scent, what's next? Her voice, her face, her. I'm terrified that one day I'll wake up and not be able to remember what my mère looks like.
It was better than I could ever get it. I never understood how she could possibly tuck all the corners just right, how she could smooth every last wrinkle away. She was just perfect like that.
Here I stand in front of the perfect bed that she always liked, talking myself down from the urge to just crawl in and never come out. Then again, she always got upset when I messed up her bed.
Except when I had a nightmare. I'd crawl in next to her, letting myself sink into her arms.
People always say that as time passes, you miss a person less.
It's not true.
Everyday I wish I could call her or even come see her and forget about what goes on outside her city. Her little forgotten city in France. Just as she knew nothing of my parents, I knew nothing when I entered that house.
Nothing but a world of sweetness and laughs and trips and care. She always wanted that. That's all she knew.
"Good morning," purs Silas as his hands slither around my waist. "What's wrong?" He observes my expression. "Nothing, just thinking about my grand-mère. I don't know why I get like this, sometimes I just feel really sad, like everything hits me at once." I try and explain, hoping it will calm him so he's not worried about me.
"Don't feel guilty or upset about it, it's hard to move on from things like that. You don't have to move on, she will always be apart of you. You've just gotta learn to live with the hurt, also know it's okay. When things happen, your life doesn't end, you're still here for a reason, you have to keep moving forward." he rants.
"Who knew you were an inspirational speaker?" I smile at him. "I've been told I have a way with words," he flaunts. I pull him into a hug, inhaling his smell. "Let's go, we've got to do fun stuff while we're here, not just be sad," I motion for us to leave the room.
"We can do whatever you'd like, you know this place better then I do," he steps forward out of room. "Duh, who else would plan our day?" I say obviously.
As I leave, I gently pull the door closed, not all the way.
- Aurélia's drippy fit 🔥:
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