gaisce | (no subject)

Schoolwork has been killing me but I wanted to post something today that wasn't an essay.

Fakir did not always feel that being reborn as a girl was a curse. For example, girls reach their growth spurts faster than boys, so Fakir was just shy of fifteen before she could stare down at Mytho, albeit slightly. After that she stopped measuring because Mytho never grew and never changed, and when she surpassed him that was the end of it.

It would be stupid to dwell on anyway. There were more important things she had to make up for her one triumph—another year of practice before she would be strong enough to wield the sword with one handed grace, another semester to reach the advanced class. And new dangers had begun to surface, Fakir only just beginning to notice the stares younger girls cast Mytho’s way. She would have to be ever vigilant to guard against them all, and she could not grow quickly enough to appease her worries.

But the merest inch was still something. Tall enough for her to now raise herself en pointe and brush a ghost of a kiss against his brow, a silent promise of safekeeping.