This is Dessy/bitterredemption mun...Life got hectic and I decided it was time to leave Tumblr behind. I'm sorry, and I wish everyone the best...
//DESSY!! ;w;!! Thank goodness youāre ok! Itās a shame that your life has gotten so hectic, but itās ok! The time weāve all had together sure was fun, and Iāll treasure it forever in my heart <3
I hope you donāt mind me publishing this so that the others can know, and alsoā¦ hereās my contact info? Yāknow so we can talk every now and then, keep in touch for a bit? Please, donāt be a stranger~!
skype: coloredsand
discord: coloredsand#7022
(Yeah I know, super creative)
Please donāt feel sorry, we all knew that this only for a moment. *insert here deep metaphor about life and how everything changes but in the end weāll see each other on the other side or something*
Anyway! I wish you the best, too! I hope we can talk some more in the future, should we have the time for it. If not, thenā¦Ā Thank you so much for all these years! Like I said before, rping with you has been some of the most precious memories Iāve had of my late adolescence/early-adulthood.
Ok, ok. Iāll cut this short.Ā
Thank you, and may your life be full of blessings!
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The Edwardian home had fallen to her possession though a will.Ā The owner remembered her fondly, and while she had been a good friend of his, her own memories of the man were fading on the sands of time. She had been but a child when she had met him, and he had been very old and sickly by then. If she closed her eyes tightly, she could make out his kind, small eyes and a wrinkled old face that couldāve belonged to anybodyās favorite grandpa. Mr Layton had willed it so that the entire house and itās possessions would be rightfully hers the moment she was old enough to manage the property. And he managed to sign his will just in time, as he passed away when she was almost eight. Now, ten years later, she came to see what to do with her property.Ā
Living in it was an option, yes. But perhaps renting it might be more beneficial to her? It was in a residential area of London, a quiet and mature community. Surely, people would like to pay good money to live in that neighborhood.
Brenda opened the door to the home. There were dust covers on all the furniture. Her mother had been wise: in ten years, the house had only been visited thrice. The first time was a home inspection right after the will was read. The second time, was to address the issues the house had (and install a steel security door at her mother's suggestion) shortly after the home inspection. And the third time had been just two months ago: another home inspection. It seemed that the house had held up just fine, although it might need a good cleaning before anybody could move in.
Still, she wanted to see the house with her own eyes. Perhaps being there would stir her memories? She stepped into... the parlor? Yes, this had to be the parlor, even though it was hard to tell since all the furniture was covered up. But then her eyes saw it.
Beneath a gray dust cover (which she hoped it hadn't originally been white) was a grand piano. An exquisite instrument that, alas, perhaps in all these years had most likely gone out of tune. And yet-- she found herself drawn to it. Brenda pulled the dust covers off the piano.
Her hands were shaking as she pushed the fall board up. The keys were glossy, and smooth beneath her fingers. Without really knowing what she was doing, she found herself playing a melody she could vaguely remember once hearing it someplace... Where had she heard it? She didn't know. But once the song was over, she found herself crying.Ā
She slipped her hands away from the keys, and looked at the piano. Still, it beckoned to her. To play more beautiful songs that she could only faintly recall.
"The song--" she muttered, to nobody else. "It's..."
But she couldn't quite know what she was about to say. The only thing she knew for certain-- was that she just couldn't be parted from this piano. To sell it would be... it'd be like throwing a friend out into the street.
She rested her hands on the keys once more. And she contemplated the feeling beneath her fingers. Like an old friendās handshake.
He held her close, as close as he could, knowing full well that he never wanted to let go of her again. He trembled terribly. Her sobs pained him, but the feeling was mixed with a sort of joy, as any sound from her lips meant that she was, indeed, alive.
All he could do was exhale, and let the tears burn his tightly shut eyes and make their way down his face. For so long heād felt that he himself had been dead, because he faced a life that he would be unable to live: a life without Brenda.
He choked on his words, when he finally found that his throat would let him voice a reply.
āYouāre safeā¦Y-Youāre aliveā¦Pleaseā¦ Ple-pleaseā¦donāt ever leave me like that againā¦I love youā¦I canāt-I canāt lose you-ā
Losing a wifeā¦it hurt more than anything he could have ever imagined, made doubly worse by the pain of also losing a child. Heād only narrowly survived that, but if it happened nowā¦If it happened again. If their children were left without a mother as he wasā¦He couldnāt live like that. They couldnāt live like that. Not again. Never again.
[They were both crying. She cried openly, red faced and loud. His was more self-contained. Like glass that was overflowing, but hadnāt quite toppled over.]
ā--Hershel?ā
[She calmed down, her head hurting with a mild buzz. And through the fog still clouding her mind, she could perceive his pain. Not like it was particularly hard to do so.]
āI love you. Iām... Iām so sorry. I wouldnāt have... I donāt want to cause you any pain. I love you,Ā I love you, I love you.ā
[She repeated, kissing his chest with every repetition. Yes. She was here for him. Always.]
My Muse Just Had A Near Death Experience. Send āI Thought I Lost Youā For Your Muse To Kiss Mine In Relief
[The taste of his lips had never tasted so sweet before. Brenda was still shaking, and she hugged him back as tightly as possible so that he wouldnāt somehow leave her.]
āH-Hershelā¦ā
[Brenda cried on his lapel, like a faucet that had just been opened. She could only remember bits and pieces butā]
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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verduresapiens replied to your post:bitterredemption replied to your...
((If I may inject a sudden thought that popped into my head - what if Luke got kidnapped by Targent? Targent luke))
D:
Psst Descomun what do you think? Should we twist the knife in juuust a lil bit and have them still have something tragisad happen to them even if theyāre together
[Brenda sat on the cold, stone floor just outside her old Greorgian house in London. Her eyes were set on the stars above. It was a clear night, and for some reason the city lights didnāt drown out all of the stars in the sky above.]
ā...ā
[She curled up with a sigh. She remembered that Clark (it was so unnatural to think of him as her fiancee of all things) had wanted to take her to Switzerland for their honeymoon. One of his selling points for the pitch was āyou can see the stars up thereā. But she could see the stars just fine from here, thank you very much.]
[...Her fingers were starting to feel numb. Sheād better go inside and sleep. Tomorrow as the ābig dayā after all. But, that wasnāt going to be it. She wasnāt worried about marrying Clark. Because... she wasnāt going to marry him at all in the first place.]
