"I would know it in any world, any life, any form, anywhere in time and space. I would die for these lavender eyes to glitter with warmth - anytime, anywhere."
His words constrict around my heart like golden barbs. The beauty of them excruciating.
...
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"Ashton Zavier Knight.", mum's voice holds equal measures of frustration and a stern warning, and I am finally forced to crack open my mismatched eyes. The bright morning sun threatens to blind me for a split moment, but I ignore its glare and sit up.
"M-u-m.", I whine, my voice a little rough with the lingering traces of sleep.
A playful smile ghosts over mum's lips and that tiny expression makes my senses perk up.
The scent of lavender touches my senses and I leap out of the bed, throwing my blanket aside. Mom laughs. Elle's here and I don't need a greater motivation to get up.
Enthusiasm lances through me as I dash into the bathroom to freshen up and shower, while mom tidies up the bed.
I grab my brush from the counter - I'm just tall enough to reach it - and use mom's sweet mint toothpaste. It's my favourite. My eyes - one the darkest shade of green, another silver - narrow in the mirror as my patience runs thin.
I am, what Elle calls, as fresh as a daisy when I step out of the bathroom in my small bathrobe. Mum's face splits into a bright grin at the sight of me, as she comes up and helps me dry my hair and get ready.
"You want me to do that tousling thing to your hair again, Ash?", Mum asks, that mischievous smile still playing on her lips. I nod, vigorously. Elle likes it.
Mum's smile brightens as her soft hands move in my dark hair and her dark green eyes shine. There's this expression of absolute happiness on both my parents' faces whenever I'm trying to take care of Elle or do something that she likes. I think it's nice.
"There, all done.", she says, patting me lightly on the back, and I immediately make a run for it.
• • •
The air in the dining and kitchen area is thick with the sweet scent of lavender and I gravitate towards it like my life depends on it. Maybe it really does.
"You could've asked Elizabeth again, little one. She probably would've agreed.", I hear dad's deep, soothing voice speak to Elle. But there's no verbal response. I do not expect one, either.
When I enter the kitchen, Elle is sitting on a chair by the kitchen island, her pretty face scrunched up in a frown, her cute bottom lip's being assaulted by her tiny teeth. Her golden, wavy hair is in an adorable little ponytail and a beautiful lavender dress makes her look so pretty that my heart hurts.
Dad is holding a plate with a few cut-up pieces of his signature pancake and some maple syrup in front of her, trying to get her to eat.
"Good morning, son.", he greets me with a bright, dimpled smile as he hears me come in. He has probably heard me all the way from when I woke up.
"Good morning, dad.", I greet him happily, my eyes darting to him for all but a second before going back to the sulking little girl sitting on the chair with her tiny legs dangling in the air.
