Dreamland | Gwynnyth and Drahven
Gwynnyth blinked rapidly; she couldn’t figure out why it was so bright. Well, actually, she knew exactly why it was so bright - it was the middle of the day - but what really confused her was why she wasn’t burning.
Looking around, she found herself in a meadow, a basket of fresh picked flowers on her arm, and Drahven walking beside her. The sun was warm on her skin, a sensation she’d never known but nonetheless felt lovely. Things were silent between them, but it was a comfortable silence, each simply delighting in the presence of the other. But something felt off, and she couldn’t quite figure out what it was…
Conversation Killer | Gwynnyth and Mary
Gwynnyth took a deep breath, steadying herself for what she was about to do. It was one thing to talk to Drahven about her past; she knew that he’d always love and support her, and no matter what had happened, he’d help her through it at her own pace. But this was a whole other level… Talking to Mary about something of this magnitude made things official; there would be a file, regular sessions, and check ups, as there were with all the residents of Safe Place. She wasn’t sure she was ready for so much attention to be drawn to the issue, but she’d promised Drahven that she would try to work on it, so that’s what she was going to do… Gathering her courage, she straightened her shoulders and knocked on Mary’s door.
The Way I See Me | Crimson and Oliver
Crimson stood naked in front of the full length mirror on the back of the closet door. She was only mildly aware that Oliver could see her as she looked at herself. For the first time in her life she was at a healthy weight, not too big, not to small. Healthy. She poked at her hip bones that didn’t stick out. Okay, that’s normal. She examined her cheeks as she leaned in closer to the mirror. They weren’t sunken in like they had been for the eleven years she spent living on the streets. Also normal. Her eyes were more grey than they’d ever been. That she liked. She looked back at her stomach with a frown. She couldn’t count the number of scars that she had, didn’t even want to try. But she knew it was a God awful high number. Her finger gently traced a few before she pulled at the fat of her stomach. She never used to be able to pull on her stomach like she was now, it was distorted about two inches. Her frown deepened and she let go, quietly muttering “Fat.”