ｓｔａｒ·ｌｉｇｈｔ - ／ˈｓｔäｒˌｌīｔ／
ｎｏｕｎ
the light that comes from the stars.
𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑒𝓎𝑒𝓈 𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝓈𝑜 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂.
~~
In which Ainsley and Xaden reunite after spending m...
"You will love the Riorsons!" My mother say with so much excitement, that it brings a smile to my face. We had just been stationed in Aretia, because of my father's job. It felt weird being in such a beautiful city and I worry deep down if my father will destroy it, just like he does everywhere we live. He leaves destruction behind him. I sit silently in the kitchen, watching as a mom moves so gracefully around the kitchen.
Her fiery red hair blurring as she rushes around the kitchen, making sure the dessert is perfect. She never goes to someone's house empty handed. I love watching her bake and she even shows me how to bake.
I twirl my similar fiery red hair around my finger, careful to avoid the streaks of white that is taking over most of my hair. And my skin. Half of my face has lost its color and is a bright white, ruining everything in its path. My mother did not have the same skin issue as me, which makes my confidence dwindle as I gaze at her beauty. The white streaks all over my body is designed in a way that looks like many lightning bolts plaguing my body.
I would find it beautiful, if my father didn't look at it in disgust every time he looks at me.
I sigh softly as a stare at the lightning bolts on my hands, wishing they would go away. It was a constant reminder how different I look from my family and it was hard to hide it when it is all over my body.
"Are you ready to go?" My mother asks and I bring my eyes up to meet her. I nod slightly and smile slightly. She lets out a sigh and wraps the desserts up tightly to keep them safe until we reach the Riorson's house. I reach my hand up to itch my cheek, but pause remembering that my parents put makeup on my face to cover up the discoloration for this meeting.
"Is everyone ready to go?" I hear my father ask from the doorway and I flinch slightly, hoping he did not notice. My mother nods her head, smiling lovingly at him and I almost want to scoff. She never saw how hurtful he was towards me, or she didn't want to believe it.
I get up and go to follow my parents to the front door and my father grabs my wrist harshly, making me yelp in pain knowing his grip will cause bruises soon enough. My mother steps forward as if she was going to stop it and I feel hope bloom in my chest but she stop and sighs. Of course she stopped.
