#estrella.

@huntershowl ( continued from here ).

estrella is mesmerized by her hair and the way it produces smoke in her hands as she passes the brush through it. ( she remembers when they were children how she had always thought of persephone like some sort of strange, real life rapunzel; with the way their black hair grew, so long and fast, imbued with the most curious and inexplicable abilities, it had seemed an obvious comparison. )

she takes her time, knowing how soothing the ritual was for her friend and allowing herself to indulge in the intimacy she felt between them as she dragged the bristles through her smooth locks. ( in a way, it reminded her of times when she was younger where her mother would sit her down and brush her hair after she'd gone out to play. though, luisa had certainly never been this gentle. )

she stops for a moment at the question, her breath halting in her chest. ( suddenly the fantasy was fractured, the pleasant reminiscence was over. ) she hums, gently coughs to clear a blockage that leaps into her throat. "uhm," she hesitates, resuming the task with slightly more disconnected motions after a moment. "he's..." she knows how other people would describe him, but none of their words were hers. she sighs and lets her arm fall down into her lap, playing with the bristles on the brush despondently. "he's... i don't know. people like him, i guess. my brother thinks he's cool, my mom thinks he's charming, i think... i think he would have been a lot happier if i'd been a boy like dom."