Cherry Kisses

Damian

For clarification, some words may look weird and that is because its written phonetically (how it sounds). Translations are at the end of the sentence in 'bold'.
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Damian

Damian Winston Tornsney was his family's pride and joy. 

Naturally one would think it would be the oldest child or even the youngest child that was the favorite. That, however, was not the case.

Most people were quick to assume that the favorite was his older brother, Sebastian.

Sebastian, who had learned to levitate heavy objects both wandless and nonverbal by the time he was 7; who was passionate about the musical arts and could play three completely different instruments: the arghul, harp, and lute—all of which were traditional Egyptian instruments that were exceptionally hard to learn; who was gifted in dark magic and had never lost a duel.

Sebastian, who was often ridiculed by their father for not being 'man enough' simply because he did not wish to become an Auror, instead choosing to work for the Magical Republic of Egypt, specializing in dark magic.

However, some believed the favorite to be his younger sister, Karñla.

Karñla, who had been intelligent from a young age; who had published her first book—about birds (both muggle and magical)—at the age of 13 and was currently writing a new book at her current age of 16; who befriended muggle and magical creatures alike; who dueled men twice her age and won.

Karñla, who was often criticised by their father for wearing pants instead of dresses, tunics instead of blouses; for not being ladylike; for her dirt-stained clothes and brightly colored hair.

No one ever thought the favorite was Damian.

Damian, who had a wide waist, feminine physique, and soft cheek bones (all features he'd gotten from his mother); who had facial hair instead of being clean shaven; who wore his hair long instead of short; who painted his lips bright colors and played with the young children.

People often assumed that since he was feminine, sometimes wore feminine clothes, and didn't like violence that that meant he was weak and stupid, that he was a lesser man. They used to whisper about him when he was a kid; 'i heard the younger tornsney boy was caught behind the church with the imams son' 'i saw him dressed in a skirt' 'there must be something wrong with him'.

It used to bother him and make his stomach twist with shame. Now he's learned to ignore it, to let it roll off his shoulders and not affect him.

﹌﹌﹌

Damian walked down the street, waving to the group of kids who could usually be found playing a game of soccer or, like now, simply just kicking a ball around in the grass. They stopped for a moment to grin and wave back before they continued with their game.

He passed the food stalls, lifting a hand in greeting to a few that he knew well and smiling at the ones he knew by name only. He stopped by Mona's stall—a kindly old woman who sold fresh fruit and bread—and greeted her before handing her a few sickles for a little basket of fresh cherries and a loaf of bread. He thanked her and continued walking, popping a cherry into his mouth. As Damian walked towards the other end of the market where he knew his mother was, he greeted people he knew and even stopped to buy a piece of basbousa.

Damian's mother, Lillian, likes to bake and cook, often selling her freshly baked pies at the weekly market along with her handmade soaps. She likes to garden, which is what led to him turning their backyard into a huge garden for her 40th birthday (said gift was 100% worth the smile she'd had when she found out).