05-23-2018, 10:51 PM
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★ WHEN MY HEART IS MADE FROM GOLD AND FORGIVENESS SEEMS TOO BOLD
Hazel wished that was true. She wished she had done no wrong and felt her innocence preside over her guilt, but unfortunately, there would always be a missing puzzle piece in her aura; a sort of dimness that indicated lack of knowledge and a sort of confused hollowness. Hazel knew there was something missing in her self - in her soul - that provided the answer to some of her guilt, but was unable to put a finger on precisely what it was. Many times she had broken something or said something that made Mother angry and call her all sorts of nasty things, but whatever this hole was, it was deeper. Embedded in the depths of her soul, under memories and trauma and personality.
So yes, Hazel had never committed a true crime (like burning someone's garden and half the source of their happiness), but she also felt as if she had still done something. That something wasn't right, and ever since that flashback, the discomfort in her soul only grew.
But the girl joined Bastille and Margy anyway, grinning and tossing a semi-playful "Yeah, that's what you think," in Bastille's direction before she sat down. The sight of a happy Margaery was always good for her spirits, not to mention presents. Curiosity sinking its hooks into her limbs, Hazel leaned forward, eyes alight with anticipation and a spark of childish glee. "What're in the boxes, Margy?" She asked, tail curling and smile widening as she took in the beauty and effort put into the presents.
So yes, Hazel had never committed a true crime (like burning someone's garden and half the source of their happiness), but she also felt as if she had still done something. That something wasn't right, and ever since that flashback, the discomfort in her soul only grew.
But the girl joined Bastille and Margy anyway, grinning and tossing a semi-playful "Yeah, that's what you think," in Bastille's direction before she sat down. The sight of a happy Margaery was always good for her spirits, not to mention presents. Curiosity sinking its hooks into her limbs, Hazel leaned forward, eyes alight with anticipation and a spark of childish glee. "What're in the boxes, Margy?" She asked, tail curling and smile widening as she took in the beauty and effort put into the presents.
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WITH EVERY HEARTBEAT I HAVE LEFT
i will defend your every breath; i'll do better