Today, the world behind Blue's backyard smelt like Cabeswater—a drowsy, misting scent of the air just after rain.
Faded sunlight poured over her face when she stepped out into the open. There was just something about it. Something about today. She felt like she was a billion times bigger than her body, stretching out to the stars.
Her heart was not the limit, and perhaps it had never been.
She tied her hair up, coloured hairpins balanced between her lips as she strolled out into the open. The wind sung softly against her face.
Today, Maura had been insistent on her staying at home whilst Calla, Jimi and Orla went out because they were planning on buying a new kettle for the tea. And apparently in a peculiar, wayward abode like 300 Fox Way, the momentous event required the attendance of half of the household.
Blue Sargent, apparently, was not part of that half.
At first she was a bit bitter, but then she was perfectly okay with that. As much as she liked the tea in the house (sometimes, and more often that not she hated it), she'd been waiting. Waiting for a moment to just breathe. Because in the past year, the world had been getting heavier and heavier. Tenacious weights piling one top of one another. Blue just wanted a pause, a freeze in time, a crack of space where she could feel alright.
She drew a ragged sigh out of her chest.
In just the past year—which actually felt like it'd been a dozen years compressed into one—she'd found: one dead boy, two dreamers plus their magical forest, three sleepers (some of which had not been sleeping), and four best friends from that bastard-nurturing school, Aglionby. But most importantly, she'd found a dozen new horizons stretching past her fingertips. Deep inside of her, something stirred. Impossible, impossible, impossible. If this was the Blue before, she would've thought that it foretold her inevitable end in a community college with a subpar job at Nino's for all of eternity. But she was not the Blue before.
This Blue Sargent was sensible. But this Blue Sargent was impossible. After this year, not only did she believe in the impossible, but she believed that she could do the impossible.
She walked up to the old beech tree in her backyard. It'd been there, constant and unchanging, something rooting her to her life. It'd been there when she first met Adam. It'd been there where Ronan and Kavinsky dream the ley line dry. It'd been there when Gansey drove her through the thrilling, terrifying peaks of Henrietta.
She spread an even palm out onto its cool, damp bark.
"Bluey-blue, little lily," a voice sang, from up above.
Blue's head snapped up. She was blinded for a second by the sunlight filtering through the trees. It took her more than a second afterward to spot Gwenllian—most of the reason why she could see her was because of the huge dress that she was wearing that caught the wind and blew up.
Gwenllian clung onto a branch with one hand and swung around it lazily.
Blue tightened a fist.
"What are you doing up there? Get down! Mom's going to be really angry when she sees you."
Gwenllian let out a laugh. A booming, psychotic laugh. Blue cringed.
"Ah, you're so silly, lily," Gwenllian sung to an unfamiliar tune.
"For the last time. My name is Blu—"
"Lily," Gwenllian finished. "Lily, Blue." She danced around the branches once more.
Blue let out a huff and sunk to the bottom of the tree, cross legged with her bare feet brushing the grass. All she wanted was to have a nice afternoon with no one, and most certainly, no Gwenllian. Thinking about it now, she wondered why Maura hadn't taken her along with them to buy the new kettle.
"Where is your princeling, my lily?"
"What?"
"Princeling."
"You mean Gansey."
She stroked down edges of her fluffy petticoat, fingers wrapping around a nearby tree branch and sliding down from the branch and landing as a heap on the floor, rolling over several times before coming to a stop. Blue was certain she did this for effect.
"You're horrendous," she remarked.
"And you're not?" Gwenllian cooed.
This made Blue smile. She was going to hell for this, but she was.
~
a/n: honestly if you dont know what this is dont come runnin to me because i aint got a damn doggy idea of what it is either i wrote it ages ago and never finished it
YOU ARE READING
Stagnant
General Fiction[ collection of things that never really fit, short stories, poems, whatevers ] Things that could be so much more, and yet churned to a stop.
