My Country Is Beginning To Burn, And My Family Is Roasting Marshmallows Over Its Corpse.

Spider Love Song

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it solos - Submitted by: fastman27

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I've got so many scene ideas, but I'm a linear writer, so I regularly have to put them back on the conveyer belt for later.

A promise broken

The two of us had been walking through the Dex, Sophia's hand warm in mine, our fingers intertwined beneath our over-sized sleeves. It was a cold day, so we were wearing sweaters over our uniforms to keep the chill out. I didn't need one, but Sophia insisted, and I just couldn't say no to her when she brings up my health.

We'd been talking about the weather, and whether it'll snow or not when a shoulder slams into mine. I growl and go to say something, but the words die in my throat when I see who it was, memories dulling my tongue at the sight of her. I mumble an apology, and pull Sophia along, trying to put as much distance behind us as possible.

“Who was that? You two know each other?”

Sophia's question, innocent as it was, brings a torrent of memories from behind the walls I've carefully built. Memories of late nights training, movies we were supposed to watch, secrets shared beneath the moonlight, promises of forever made and sealed with kisses. I shake my head, and glance over, my voice soft, as if afraid of being heard.

“Not anymore.”

I'm currently working on a story, but my motivation to write has been pretty low lately. I think the general lack of interest from my friends and family (only my mom is willing to read it currently) is part of the reason why. I'm new to writing as a hobby, and not having anyone to get unbiased feedback from leaves me feeling like my work isn't that great, I think.

I'm very close to reaching a third of my projected chapter amount, but it's looking like I'm going to need more chapters.

I've recently passed 10,000 words in my original story. I honestly wasn't expecting to ever actually reach that number, and I still have so many chapters to go.

I got in an argument with my mother this morning. The context isn't really important, just know it was over it was over politics. But there is one important part that told me what kind of person she is.

I brought up how ICE is targeting schools, and how there's a very good chance that they're taking anyone who looks "foreign". I mentioned that a boy we know could be taken, because he's mixed but looks mexican.

She asked me why I cared so much. She asked me why I cared so much about a boy who's been part of the family since he was a few months old being taken away.

We're not even a month in, and I'm already so tired.

For the past few days, we've been in a truce here. Just not talking about what's going on, since without politics we get along. Eventually, when everything goes up in flames, they'll realize I was right to worry. But they'll never admit it. They never do.

I don't think I'll post any further updates unless something drastic happens. There's other things that make me happier to do.

An interlude in the short series I've been doing, instead focusing on when Rane first started realising her feelings for Sophia.

An important first

Very few occasions call for anything beside our uniforms, since they've become the main outfit everyone wears at the base, so the first time I saw Sophia in a dress was a couple years after her release from the hospital, the pale flowers dotted across the billowy fabric, her light brown hair blonde in the sunlight. I thought I had caught an illness when she smiled at me, that laugh bubbling out of her like the prettiest bell. I didn't understand what I was feeling, the way she made my heart flutter in my chest and the air catch in my throat, until much later.

When she tried to ask what was wrong, I couldn't answer, any words dying in my throat with a strangled whimper. My face burned as I looked anywhere but at her, though I couldn't tell her that it wasn't from embarrassment, or why I didn't want her to see it. I didn't know how to tell her that she was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen, how I wanted to see her like this more often.

My reaction upset her, but I grabbed her arm before she could leave, my touch as gentle as a butterfly's wings. I didn't know how to explain the sensations she was calling, so I apologized instead and asked her to stay.

I spent that entire night trying to figure out my feelings, sleepless in pursuit of what ailed me. I spoke with the guys about it the next morning, only to end up flustered when Don decided to start teasing me. Sergei chuckled before scolding him, and took me aside, giving me a moment to calm down before asking me more questions about my ailment.

I answered honestly, that my mind was still picturing the way the wind blew her dress in such a way to hug her body, that my face catches fire at the memory of her smile and that my breath is stolen by the memory of her laugh. He asked if I've felt these things before, and it gave me pause. I went to say that I hadn't, but then I realized that I had over the past couple years, just never this strong before.

When I admitted this, my voice a soft whisper into the light of the rising sun, he gave me a warm, knowing smile. He ruffled my hair, chuckling as he told me that I wasn't sick. I asked him what the problem was, why I felt such odd things about my friend, and he just smiled, telling me that while I might see it as a problem now, I won't always feel that way.