#stygiac

hi does leia have an interest in death

leave me olone

Familiar swirls of pinks and blues, purples and muted yellows ---- a crystal clear sea, a balcony view of a town dressed in flowers and a bridge connecting it to darker woods --- had been suppressed from memory for years. To remember would be to be pained with the realization that it was not just a fanciful dream but real, and tangible. That the painting she’d been so proud of then now seemed so misguided. She’d been foolish then, she was foolish now but aged and left worse for wear. “Are you a fan of this one?” She asks, the cream tarp in her hands tightening in her grasp, “It’s unsigned. The artist must have not cared much for it then.”

But she had. In fact she could still feels her daughter’s arms wrapped around her leg as she begged for her mother’s attention. She could feel her sugary kiss (she’d been eating stolen treats at the time) pressed upon her cheek when Rapunzel finally gave in and brought her to her arms. The warmth of her little body against her own, the strokes in the painting that were made from her plump untrained hand.

ur so pure