☆ Evanescent; soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence.
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♡ a story in which her father slowly fades away and an older mans love for her grows.
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Started: January 23rd, 2019
Fini...
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Vicky seemed angry at the fact that Victor had insisted she tag along when Rosa had asked if she could go shopping. It was strange because Rosa had not developed an appreciation for shopping until Noah had taken her out himself.
Noah had transferred some money over into her account despite her protests and she knew exactly what it was she was going to do with that money.
A small scowl formed on her face as Victor grabbed onto her hand before they crossed the street and she fought the urge to pull her hand away. No one had ever held her hand to guide her anywhere, to cross the street or anything like that.
She'd gladly let Noah hold her hand as they walked the streets together. But they unfortunately couldn't at the moment.
Rosa had taken care of herself for so long that she was so used to doing everything on her own. Having Victor as a father figure rubbed her the wrong way - mainly because she felt that was a step closer to replacing her actual father who had been a very good man and did not ever deserve to be replaced or forgotten.
She had promised to herself that her memories of him would live on; as would her love for him.
And sure, there was a new man in her life. A wonderful one. But her father had met him and approved of him. That very fact alone meant more to her than each moment that Victor had attempted to be a father to her himself.
Rosa's eyes glittered with excitement when she spotted a shop with handcrafted wood items and it made both Victor and Vicky stare her down strangely. She pointed to it eagerly before walking in, humming softly to herself as the smell of different woods, varnish and a soft sort of cinnamon smell graced her nose. The aesthetic of the place was homey and extravagant, though the ederly man sitting behind the counter gave it a humble air about itself.
She made her way up to the counter, saying a soft 'good afternoon' as she scanned the smaller items sitting in the glass counters in velvet boxes.
The man smiled at her fondly and nodded his head, standing up off his stool as she marvled at the wooden pens with the gold clips.
Rosa looked up at the man when she noticed him singing along to a song her dad had once sang to her. "That Bill Withers?"
"It is indeed, young lady," he nodded and she smiled a little before pointing to a fancy wooden pen, white gold accents lining it. It sat in a pretty indigo velvet box. "How much is that one there?"
"$185.99," he replied and she nodded excitedly, knowing it was a good price for the pen if it had been handcrafted.
"You made it yourself?" she asked, tilting her head a bit but then suddenly Victor was pulling her back away from the counter.
He turned her to face him and she looked up at him, a frown on her face. "I'm sure you don't want a pen that expensive. And it looks much too big for your pretty little hands," he said as he guestered to her hands. "And where's this money going to come from?"
