routine. ♪‧₊˚
some loves are brighter in the dark.
If I could get another tattoo, it would be of Hyacinth Anniston. Every single detail of Hyacinth is etched and engraved into my very own mind. Her long, ridiculously shiny brown hair is something that I rarely get to see down. However when I do see it, it’s a privilege. Her eyes that match her hair, shining with such warmth I didn’t know was possible to have. How could one single person have so much of a gravitational pull?
And the purple. God, I never even realized how beautiful the color could be. I always thought it was too flashy, too loud, too bold. All I liked was red and black because they were quieter and more sophisticated. But Hyacinth’s love for purple became all too infectious, and soon, I found myself loving the color.
I found myself loving more than just the color.
Her laughter is unforgettable. It’s not loud or demanding, but it lingers and curls around your heart and squeezes it so tight, the way a newborns grip does. The tilt of her head, the way her hands fidget with the lace of her corset when she’s nervous, all these things about her that she probably doesn’t notice herself… they all build her up to be some mosaic of a person, a goddess, for lack of a better word, that I never want to stop worshipping.
Ultimately, what I find myself thinking about in the darkness of the night or in quiet hallways, is her smile. It’s more of a physical sensation than anything else, and it feels even better when I am the cause of it; it feels like the sun broke through the clouds just for me. It’s warm, it’s endless, and utterly irresistible. How it manages to slow and stop time, I’ll never know, but it makes every second feel like an otherworldly experience.
Even when everything’s crumbling to the ground, that smile tells me that maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay. And even if it’s not, even if the world loses its light and the land turns barren, just remembering the feeling is enough.
That’s why I had to get rid of him. The way he spoke her name, the way he stood too close for comfort… it ruined her, tainted her. While she may not realize it, she shines a thousand times brighter without him. She’s perfect, polite, unspoiled, how she was born to be. I’ve perfected my (now almost monthly) routine: He’s gone, and she’ll never know.
