Post by august.kang on Nov 30, 2011 0:44:32 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,background-image:url(http://i52.tinypic.com/otj5sn.jpg); width: 390px; height: 450px; -moz-border-radius: 40px 0px 40px 0px; border-radius:40px 0px 40px 0px; opacity: 0.8; border-right: #7298ac 15px solid; border-left: #7298ac 15px solid;] Dear Umma, Do you remember all the stories you would tell me at night, so I'd go to sleep? You always told so many of them, but there was one that was your favorite to tell and my favorite to hear. The one about me being special -well actually, Umma, you've always made me special in your stories When I had turned thirteen you and I got a letter about my future. I say you got it because at the time I hadn’t really cared about it at all and it tore you to shreds. I also didn’t understand that. In fact I laughed about it because my voice was cracking and I was going through that perverted teenage boy stage that just didn’t take anything that seriously. Especially not getting matched (or whatever it is) to someone for my whole life. Like that was even a possibility for my future. I hadn’t cared at that point, but somewhere I still believed that all those little bedtime stories you told me were like a prophecy waiting to happen. Umma, I’m not going to keep staying behind the bush with this any longer. You’ve probably figured it out or are just laughing at the strangely serious tone of this letter. But Umma, I got a letter from Cupid today. After I send you this message I’m going to go meet her, my new and eternal girlfriend and your future daughter in-law. It looks funny to write that. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about marking it out. But you understand, because I imagine you’ll highlight it, circle it or cross it out yourself after you finish reading this. I don’t think I like her though. I’ve become bored with girls already. (is that funny to picture me actually saying?) Her name is Ambrosia. I think it’s a mouthful, but in the hour that I’ve known about it being her, I’ve come up with a lot of nicknames and pet names. I think I said something to you about her before, because I think I actually had a fling with her like you had with that guy sixteen years ago. But I’m not sure, I don’t really remember. She does kind of have pretty eyes, I guess. But her eyebrows kind of scare me. When I get back from this meeting I’ll send another letter to ease your curious mind. Sarang, August The half-blood signed the letter in his loopy scrawl and kissed it. He held the letter out to Dalja, his spectacled owl, who took it within her beak. “To my mom, you know where,” he said quietly, stroking it for a few moments before it flew away. August stayed at the top of the tower for a few more moments. But when he started to fear for his eccentric mundane clothes (that really wasn't what was requested. But August didn't like tuxes and didn't really have such money to buy a nice one [and he didn't think he could pull off stealing one either]), he left. August didn’t think he was going to tell his children such stories like his mother had told him. There wasn’t going to be a point in it if they grew up without a say in their love life anyway. When he’d turned eleven, magic became one of the best things in his life. But now he wished (partly) that he hadn’t been half-wizard at all. Either way, wizard or no wizard, he didn’t think that he was going to give his kids something to look forward to, a promise of sorts, like that. But he wanted to, in spite of Cupid or just because of his Gryffindor boldness and him being so optimistic. But of course, that’s to say he was even going to have children with Ambrosia at all. He’d seen Ambrosia plenty of times, maybe more than he wanted to (even if he hadn’t, he was going to), and he knew already that she wasn’t the one. No questions. Nothing extra. Like he’d told his mother (in a not-so-obvious way), he was bored with girls, women, ladies. The female species. August was interested in the hard features, straight and no curves, angular facial features and most of guy kind. After he made that revelation, he didn’t want anything else to do except to go experiment with this attraction. But no, instead he had to go to room one-twelve in Cupid’s Hall to meet up with his partner in life (for the rest of his life). He was a bit early. But that was okay. Because hopefully she was too, and then they could get this over with as soon as possible. words* 914 outfit* looks like @ 1:00 notes* muse just hit me. here ^^ |
made by hay shay @ caution!
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