songbird, eve
she/her
21
september 5th
hoenn
demisexual
idol
civilian
to be a flower you need rainy days.
TAG WITH @songbird
evelyn silph
real emotion [ m | kyle ]
POSTED ON Jul 26, 2019 23:43:30 GMT
[attr="class","starrybase"] [attr="class","leavestop"] [attr="class","starrytop2"] but i'm not afraid of love [attr="class","leavestext"]"it's a pretty strange story." she forewarned before continuing. "it's sort of a sad story, the rocket grunt who told me thought of it to be stupid. i think it was beautiful." she chuckled, a soft smile following. "the story is about a star who wanted to shine for the heart of man," she'd turn toward kyle, winking, "or rather a little boy."
evelyn turned to look back toward her dressing mirror. "in a place called a sky country, there was a star who admired the story of the 'christmas star'. unable to sleep, the moon mother asked as to why. the little star explained how sad it was. it wanted to shine someone's heart like that star of wonder." it made her think briefly as she paused to take in the information.
"the mother moon understood the little star, took it by the hand, and guided it to a dark doorway called the 'wonder entry'. in it there was a speck of light. the little star was afraid, but it's mother very gently, yet sadly, encouraged it to go in." a warm feeling welled up in her as she told the story. she couldn't stop herself from telling the story. "next thing the star knew it was hanging in a toy. next to a red, silver, and blue star. the little star, itself, gold. it was in a shop that smelled of evergreen, and was full of christmas shoppers." she continued, "men, women, and children, of them all the star looked at no one but a little boy standing in front of the counter; as soon as the star saw the boy, it knew it to whom it belonged." it belonged to the little boy and no other.
"the boy wasn't looking at anything in particular. the star trembled upon a string that held it. it was afraid the child wouldn't see it; even if he did, he wouldn't know it as 'his star'." evelyn would continue without taking a breath, but spoke at a pace, "the little boy was with a woman donning a black veil. she had a number of toys placed atop of the counter: a doll, game, and music box. they were presents. the little boy, then, called the woman his 'mother'. tugging at her and seeing the very star that which trembled. they had so much for the christmas tree, but the little insisted that he wanted the star. so she got for him." evelyn chuckled at the little boy's pestering in the story. it was just odd to her.
"so the star was taken down from where it hung and wrapped in a piece of paper, it was thrilled, for now it belonged to the little boy. it wasn't until the afternoon that the christmas tree was being decorated. the golden star was unwrapped and taken out of the paper. fast-forward through a very gay christmas, it's the next day..." and that's when her face fell from bemusement, "one evening a woman came into the room, where the star resided, with a servant. the woman wore a cap and apron--resembling a nurse. she took the down and gave it to the nurse. took it into the hall and toward the little boy's room. another woman, sweet-faced, sat at the boy's bed as the nurse brought the star. the little boy clasped it upon being given the star. in doing so a shining, wonderful smile came over his face." a soft smile was made, hiding a melancholic expression.
"the next morning the little boy's room was still and very dark. the golden piece of paper that had been the star laid on a table beside the bed, its five points very sharp and bright." she'd turn toward kyle, continuing, "but it wasn't the real star, any more than a person's body is the real person." narrowed eyes softly stared into the hues of kyle's own. "the real star was living and shining now in the little boy's heart, and it had gone out with him into a new and more beautiful home than it'd ever know before--the sky country, where the little child angels live, each one carrying in its heart its own particular star."
and that was the end of the story. she'd turn back to face her mirror, wondering, "something about that story pokes at the back of my head. the little boy, in the end, past away with the star in question. but i wonder, in the story, what did they mean by 'it wasn't the real star, any more than a person's body is the real person...' it's not that great of a story when you think about it, but i found it, morbidly, fascinating." shrugging it off, "just a story i thought would be fun to share."
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