11-04-2018, 11:26 PM
DAY ONE - Happiness + is y/c a night owl or an early bird? do they get enough sleep or do they want to sleep more?
Delilah was never one to stay up too late or get up too early as a child. She was always the first to wake up in the morning alongside her fellow faeries, preferring the sleep and grateful for the rising sun. She was a princess, after all. She had to set an example for those around her, no matter how painful it was to see the faces of her siblings as they rose from their nests of cotton and soft leaves. Despite the judgemental looks, she was pleased with her situation, happy with what she had right now. She was grateful, and that was all that mattered. She was thankful, but still mourned the ideals of freedom that she knew she would never have while she was trapped here. She was impure, and the rising of the sun and setting of the moon only made that realization so much harder for her to stand.
Despite being satisfied with rising in the morning with the others, Delilah loved the night. She loved stay up late, to sneak out when she could, however rare that was in reality. Now that she was in Tanglewood, she had found herself sleeping in late and staying up until she could no longer see the forest around her thanks to the darkened night. When the moon lit up the spaces she laid in, moonlight calmed her massive dwelling of nerves that she couldn’t get rid of. Staying up late at night allowed her to think, to process just what she’s been through in her lifetime.
It gave her time to grieve, to love, to cry.
She loved staying up during sleep overs, to see the smiles on her friends faces as they fell asleep. It was inevitable for her, really. To not love the sleeping faces on her friends would be sweet torture.
But still, she stayed up late. She couldn’t help but enjoy the way the moon would flicker in her rooms often. The way she knew Renegadeanthem’s breath could be heard from his room in their shared household. The night time gave so much more to Delilah than the day time could, and she couldn’t be persuaded to think any other way.
Once, she would have told her friends- or strangers, that daytime was her favorite. It wasn’t untrue during the beginnings of her lifetime, really. She had gotten a fresh taste of freedom now, and the day just seemed so bland compared to the soft blanket of night.
She knew, deep down, that the night was the mother of her emotions. The night fostered feelings of love, feelings of sadness, welcomed Delilah in open arms when nobody else seemed to.
It was home.
Word count: 450
Delilah was never one to stay up too late or get up too early as a child. She was always the first to wake up in the morning alongside her fellow faeries, preferring the sleep and grateful for the rising sun. She was a princess, after all. She had to set an example for those around her, no matter how painful it was to see the faces of her siblings as they rose from their nests of cotton and soft leaves. Despite the judgemental looks, she was pleased with her situation, happy with what she had right now. She was grateful, and that was all that mattered. She was thankful, but still mourned the ideals of freedom that she knew she would never have while she was trapped here. She was impure, and the rising of the sun and setting of the moon only made that realization so much harder for her to stand.
Despite being satisfied with rising in the morning with the others, Delilah loved the night. She loved stay up late, to sneak out when she could, however rare that was in reality. Now that she was in Tanglewood, she had found herself sleeping in late and staying up until she could no longer see the forest around her thanks to the darkened night. When the moon lit up the spaces she laid in, moonlight calmed her massive dwelling of nerves that she couldn’t get rid of. Staying up late at night allowed her to think, to process just what she’s been through in her lifetime.
It gave her time to grieve, to love, to cry.
She loved staying up during sleep overs, to see the smiles on her friends faces as they fell asleep. It was inevitable for her, really. To not love the sleeping faces on her friends would be sweet torture.
But still, she stayed up late. She couldn’t help but enjoy the way the moon would flicker in her rooms often. The way she knew Renegadeanthem’s breath could be heard from his room in their shared household. The night time gave so much more to Delilah than the day time could, and she couldn’t be persuaded to think any other way.
Once, she would have told her friends- or strangers, that daytime was her favorite. It wasn’t untrue during the beginnings of her lifetime, really. She had gotten a fresh taste of freedom now, and the day just seemed so bland compared to the soft blanket of night.
She knew, deep down, that the night was the mother of her emotions. The night fostered feelings of love, feelings of sadness, welcomed Delilah in open arms when nobody else seemed to.
It was home.
Word count: 450