you're just too good to be true

full name / Delilah ‘Delly’ Agnes O’Connor religion / Baby, we’re praying for you in this protestant household. education / Homeschooling interests / Painting unnatural motel art; dreaming of paris; stealing hot water for showers; teddy bears; dessert following every meal; soulful music

i. The last born of six children was easily the most babied, but whatever her siblings and parents served to Delly, she returned the favor right back. She wasn’t sure how being the youngest, she’s fallen into the role of everyone’s shoulder, but she’s welcomed it on. Each of the O’Connor children have their very own perspectives and Delilah has a way of respecting each one. Perhaps that’s because she can’t decide what she really feels or yearns for or believes in. It’s much easier listening and dishing out advice rather than following it. Maybe she ought to leave it all up to God to figure out for her.

ii. Unassuming. The absolute best way to describe Delilah. She’s yet to figure out if that’s what she prefers or not, but it’s been an absolute life-saver thus far. To say Delly had a sheltered Christian upbringing would be an understatement, but through trials and tribulations, she’s found a balance between reality and the life that exists between the O’Connors four walls. She’s befriended a wholesome group of people who have introduced her to a lifetime of adventures: from moonshine and fishing, to red lipstick and dance clubs. With the Statute falling, curiosity has gotten the best of her once again. Was Witchcraft really the devil’s own doing? She’d like to discover for herself, and she’s often found in wizarding locations whenever she can hitch a ride within curfew. The lies are easier to tell when your hours at the Cappy Capri Motel were flexible. As long as she was safely home on a Sunday, all would be well.

They were too near home for Delly to breath evenly, but if she freaked out for a moment longer, they’d have to raise money for more than braces, because she would be strapped to death with a gosh darn inhaler.

“Fetch me a Flake, yeah?” called out her best mate, Kian, from the driver’s seat of the van.

Fluffy brows met at the center of her forehead while she hissed in reply, “Eh?” He was kind enough to sign Flake and she was hopping out of the vehicle before he’d made it to the A. Delly would have been loads faster had she not caught eyeing the adult section on the way towards the sweets and chocolate. It was nothing to be ashamed of and for no particular reason, Delly cheekily grinned in the middle of the petrol station. Was it not everything? To not feel shame?

.

Aoife hadn’t been thinking that at all, which was why it made her feel so bad. She should have been thinking it, she thought. She should have had the same sense as her baby sister to do what a child of God would do instead of what a Witch might.

Maybe it was the devil that possessed her when she replied: “Just one peek, Delly.” Now she was the one begging.

The ferry was safe to leave; Aoife hovered at the gate. Stay, and turn back around for the love of God, or make a pilgrimage to all those repressed, forgotten, dying parts of her buried deep within the walls of her body.

The iFlown… she salivated, nearly. It glowed comically in her mind, bright and pulsing. “Please.” She didn’t follow it up with her usual chorus of Oh please please please. She should have. Then maybe her sick desperation would not have given away the devil inside her so plainly before the watchful eyes of a sister under the O'Connor’s roof and rule. How obvious her otherness looked to her now. How terrifying.

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 Delly did not seem to believe the title of black sheep was something she’d strived for but rather was branded with. Aoife had been tossed out to sea so often. Delly felt all the more need to learn to D.I.Y. life rings, all so that she could throw one and rescue the blue-eyed beaut.

“Oh...” At first, she did the “correct” thing and tutted. She had to put up some sort of fight, right? But her heart was already at the shops, waiting for them to arrive and gawk over technology God had a hand in spawning.

To Delly, sometimes her sister was the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Other times, Aoife existed as the rainbow itself. Today she was that. She clung to her sis too closely, toothy grin finally crossing her face. 

She’d never been able to properly roll her eyes, but this would’ve been where she attempted. The wind had wrestled hair from out beneath their hoods and one of the lanky gals reached out to shove it back beneath for them both. “You owe me...” For a moment, she thought, “You owe me a night of cuddles. I’m chilled to the bone this time of year!”

What a grand deal to be made.

.

Despite her reservations, and the fear lingering in the depths of her stomach, Zoe was sure that it had been the right decision after all. That even through the uncertainty, it would be kindness that would prevail. “I’d love to try some,” she said back. And she meant it.

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“I don’t mind. Maybe it’ll help.” Help what, Zoe couldn’t say. Keep her toes warm? Make muggles like witches? There were too many possibilities, and she was just doing her best to not show any of the real, genuine fear she felt. “Just, um, stand still, and you’ll be warm in no time, yeah?”

In one quick flick, Zoe sent out a Warming Charm straight towards her latest stargazing companion. She hoped this hadn’t been a mistake. That today wouldn’t represent a long line of bad moves by one Zoe Bell.

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She continued on to introduce herself, anyways. “Call me DellEEEEEE!” she squealed with delight and at a volume she didn’t comprehend. Her feet reached a temperature only felt mid-Summer when it wasn’t wished for. Now this, oh she’d felt she had just been blessed with wish one of three. “Wow! Our camp counselors would be amazed! We shiver every time we do the Expedition to Jesus Hike.” If only Delilah could open up such a dialogue with her parents or church. Her voice was louder than most. It was a shame she’d never been treated as such.

“Aye, do I owe ye barmbrack or what? Come now, I can feel me tummy having a wee earthquake.”

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Zoe’s hand closed around her wand, the wood smooth and supple to the touch. All of these years of listening to her own mother rage about how horrible being a witch was, and Zoe could simply never understand it. Especially not now, with the warmth flooding into her body, making her own toes tingle with delight. Magic was too special to ever turn her back on.

“I wave my wand, and say an incantation, and you’re warm. All the way through. Do you want me to show you?”

.

Of course she wanted to see the wonder she’d only ever heard negativity about. It was time to form her own feelings. So far, Delly felt gleeful. Something in her gut stopped her short of answering yes, however, “Only if yer comfortable.” I guess you could call it younger sister’s intuition. Or straightforward kindness. Because magic people were not puppets for the circus. As much as some seemed to believe... “Are ye? I really don’t mind the chill. Mammy says it makes us strong. ‘Sides, the bakery isn’t far and I don’t even know yer name.”

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Zoe, admittedly, was having a hard time keeping up with her new, strange companion. Where she once was positive to have a hold on everything, the twists and turns of the conversation left her reeling, doing her best to simply keep up.

“I could warm your toes for you,” Zoe offered, feeling brave when she took out her wand, laying it flat in her palm like an offering. “You might want me to after I admit I’ve never even had barmbrack.”

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Whoa, whoa, whoa. For the first time in Delilah’s twenty-one years on God’s green Earth, barmbrack was forgotten completely. While it was burning on the back burner of her brain, Delly’s eyes widened (if at all possible). The excitement and adrenaline was enough to warm her, head to toe, but she was all too eager to lean in for more. It was instinct that pushed the girl to glance over her shoulders first and foremost. The coast seemed clear enough to allow her curiosity to roam. That was important to note: how she felt curious, not naïve. 

“How? How in the world?” She marveled, grin stretching. She wiggled her toes inside of her boots.

.

Aoife snorted, an indelicate sound that she hurried unnaturally to cover behind a mitten wrapped hand. She scurried onto the ferry, reaching out to wrap first her little sister’s scarf up and around her neck and cheeks, and then did the same for herself once the ferry had started its way across the dark channel from mainland to island lit only by the effervescent, everlasting glow from the Island’s mansions and tourist shops, pier and resorts. 

Back on the mainland—she turned to glance it now—the only thing that shone with any light at all was the cross atop their church. 

“I think I saw Mammy slicing carrots.” Aoife frowned. “Don’t it look so pretty?” The Island’s magicked lights flickered in her eyes as they reached the other side of the channel and the ferry began to dock. 

.

Was it magic that had Delly yearning for Ireland once more, or was it her older sister’s pure adoration for their homeland that kept her heart beating for it always so steadily? Some days it felt Paris would only ever be a postcard, but it would all be okay if that postcard stayed pinned by a magnet beside artwork on their overcrowded fridge. The poor old thing went out so often, their electrician practically an uncle now. Gosh, only here could those things happen, huh? Ballycastle was magic all on its own. 

Delly leaned in close to Aoife, staying distanced enough to still read her features. “Have we lost sight? Christmas is near and I’ve convinced ye to look at magics stuff when we could be...” Her face scrunched together in a look of deep concentration. “Mam would love this sight almost as much as ye.” It felt horribly responsible to reroute them, but comfortably moral. Maybe Ireland also instilled a familiar trace of fear of discipline. “We must pull everyone’s notes together for a camera. Forgive me for misguiding us, Fefe.”

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“I’ve heard of it, and played a few times.” Zoe wasn’t the most interested in video games, finding that she rarely had the attention to keep to them for very long, but common ground was always important. Especially with the sinking feeling in her stomach.

She was doing her best to not grow panicky, so she shook her head and smiled. “The stick trick? No, I don’t think I know that one.” Though, she did have plenty of tricks with her stick, which was currently stuffed into her back pocket, being hidden by her oversized, cable knit sweater.

.

“Hmm? Oh! I’d be real interested in learning the origins of it all, but with the essential S’s, ye can tell time.” Her voice was higher pitched the more she spoke, the more Delly peaked out of the shell that barely held her captive anymore. She listed with slim digits, “Stick, sun, shade. I could show ye now, but not with the M.” Her giggle was faint as she enjoyed her own joke. If she was not a comedian for everyone, at least she always proved to entertain herself.

“I await the day we have the technology to heat our wee toesies on the go. I’m about to crack, I’m frozen as a statue.” It would be an opportune moment to offer a café run, but Delly sensed hesitance from the stranger. It was rather smart to have your guard up at this moment in history. She wondered if this woman thought Delilah to be a fool for not doing the same. “How do ye feel towards barmbrack?” She continued to look a clown.

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“Oooooooooh.” Aoife hopped from side so side like a toddler who had to use the toilet. “Okay! Okay okay. But ye can’t say a word to Mammy. Not one peep! There’s a store on Rathlin Island. We can take the ferry over if we’s back before supper. No one’ll even notice we’s gone.” She looked over both her shoulders—albeit too late if there was another O’Connor listening in—just to make sure the coast was clear. It was.

.

“This calls for a skipping race!”

One thing was for certain, if a secret was to be kept, it would be held with all of Delly’s might, so very close to her heart. At times they burdened her, but at the core, she often remembered how valued she must be to exist as a confidante. With delight, her lips were sealed until the end of time. Delly missed her ballet flats, but they’d been exchanged for winter tie-up boots today. They were awfully bulky yet it was with grace she carried herself. The mousy gal was good at keeping up, even when feeling anchored. Snow, secrets, sisters. She loved them each, despite the heaviness. It was all very Sunday school.

Bouncing from heel to heel, blowing hot breath into her balled up hands, waiting for Aoife to pay the fare. iFlowns were within... meters, technically, but did they feel a lot closer.

“If there aren’t jacket potatoes, would it not be better to miss supper?” It was a joke, above all, but she delivered it with a hint of sincerity. Jacket potatoes were not the only reason, but she could pretend tonight.

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Weird. “I don’t identify as Pagan, no. I’m religiously ambivalent. My dad was raised Protestant, though.” Zoe didn’t intend on bringing up her mother, who had suddenly taken to religion like a cat to milk. “It’s just technology, it’s not about to bite you or anything.” Which might’ve been a bad thing to say considering how many things in the Wizarding World did bite.

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“Me great, great mate, Kian, he plays them video games. Have you heard of Pac-Man? Mammy would kick him from our gaff with how much he swallows.” There be no jam sandwiches left for Delly if they invited Pac-Man into their home. It was her first encounter with technology. Unless the microwave counted? Or the 8-track? She was still hesitant towards that one.

Delly extended a hand to welcome to gadget, eyes remaining to Zoe’s face until finally flickering them back and forth between the screen. It was much brighter than the sky they’d been staring at beforehand.

“Wowzaz, says time an’ all’. Half past, aha. I do tha stick trick. Do you know?”

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Zoe was wary, a trait that hadn’t come to find her until only recently. Where once she assumed the best of everyone, now she was just clinging on to the basic idea that no one could want to cause her harm. “Both, actually. An easy way to message friends, and an easy way to meet new people, too. I take it, you, um, haven’t seen one before?”

The kind thing to do would be to reach out and let the woman see for herself what the iFlown had to offer. But there was hesitation. A small voice in the back of her head that told her no. She did it anyway. “Here, take a look.”

.

Early on with the statute coming down, Delly had learned a handful of things even her own family members had yet to know -- so she figured. It’s what happened when you frequented protests and wizarding locations. She had yet to say it out loud, because at the risk of sounding cliché, she would fight for her right to form her own opinion on the wizardkind. Were wixen not created by God himself? Were they not as blessed as the Christians? And the, dare she say, Catholics? 

“Protestant,” Delly identified herself, two fingers patting to collar of her jumper. Wide eyes blinked. “Pagan?” Of course everything in her wanted to reach for the gadget, but she was meant to do the kind thing. She was meant to be interested in the woman first. And she was, but her focus was being pulled every which way.

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God she wanted to hold one so badly. Aoife bounced up and down on the heels of her feet, her fingers absolutely twitching at the idea. Yet… yet yet yet. She thought about what might happen if she got caught with one. Where she might be sent. It might have been alright for Delly to marvel at such a thing from a distance, but if Aoife so much as hinted at something so blasphemous, after her track record…

But just talking about it with her sister… that couldn’t hurt! Right? “I wonder wot all they do.” Her eyes were as wide as the moon waning over the Ballycastle night sky. 

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“I don’ know if such a shop exists, where every wall is ayeFlown after Flown.” Delly envisioned one of the block-like magic things nestled into her piano fingers. It would absolutely be periwinkle. Could she choose her very own color? Did they magic the designs themselves? Did you imagine all your wildest dreams, press a button, and voila? All her dreams seemed possible only in the depths of forests with normal people or on the busy tourist streets of Paris. Now, now Ireland had drawn Delly back in. She weaved arms with her just as lanky sister, eyes almost bugging out of her sockets, teeth absolutely beaming as bright as the stars. The pearly whites were distracted by metal -- a lovely set of braces the O’Connor’s had almost passed up on if it hadn’t been for their church fundraisers.

Delly didn’t want to suggest it herself and be the bearer of bad ideas... but...

“We’ll repent well and fine, please, they’re wee as babes and I must hold one.”

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With the curfew finally broken free, Zoe felt a brief respite from everything that had been happening. She could go back to being outside to simply stare at the stars, instead of having to settle for her telescope from the safety of her bedroom. She looked up, having just realized now that the girl was talking to her, which made sense considering the iFlown in her hand.

“Oh. Oh, yes, they’re rather brilliant, aren’t they.”

.

Delilah nodded in response after she’d leaned in close enough. Her chin fell, resting against a fist. The stars weren’t as charming as what lay ahead, Delly’s larger than life eyes staying glued to the stranger and her out of this world device.

“Ye communicate with strangers or friends?” Her heart fluttered, as did her lashes upon asking. Say, could she send this woman to her left a letter asking all about the constellations above and be told their history without missing a single beat? Too good a thing to even dream.

“The wee ayeFlown! Could ye have ever daydreamt sucha thing?” Expansions to communication were worth marveling at.