#averyp

“Oh, my god. Rule number four hundred and three. Put that sandwich down. Do it again and I will watch you get arrested and I will laugh for the first time in my entire life.”

Spirit grows older and she grows independent from her childhood memories. She looks in the mirror and she doesn’t know she turned nineteen nearly six months ago, but she can finally start to feel the difference between a feral, naive Spirit and a Spirit with worldly knowledge, with intent to her actions and life. She looks in the mirror and sees her dark eyes and shaking hands and tangled, frizzy hair; she also sees that she’s finally started growing, literally, that her jeans are too short for her knobby legs and her sweaters fit comfortably, not sloppily. She looks in the mirror and sees herself, not a nightmare version of herself, or one of the many past versions who sought only to destroy her mind in as many ways as possible. Sometimes she still is that person. Mostly, though, she has grown and grows. 

So when she’s in the city of New York, her city, this massive place that has slowly become a familiar home, there are a lot of things that should hurt her that don’t. She’s beyond her childish insecurities and fears. She understands crosswalks and coffee shops and even capitalism. 

So when she’s in the city of New York, her city, and when she sees Avery alone and scrappy and as small as the nightmare version of Spirit, it’s something that finally makes her freeze. It shouldn’t feel like a mirror but it does. It shouldn’t take her back to years of isolation and resentment and cold, unforgiving places to half-sleep, but it does. Somehow this fear turns into sick curiosity and she approaches Avery faster than she would consciously desire. 

send a heart for a pre-established relationship meme! great fun! great for plotting!  

avery