Post by R. on May 23, 2021 11:47:32 GMT -5
The pairing is a surprise btw!
“Once again, I am a child
I let go of everything that I know, everything that I know
And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free
We're still the kids we used to be
I put my hand on the stove, to see if I still bleed
And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free”
Chloe George, “Ghost Town”
Esmé stopped and looked around her, searching for where the music was coming from. It was a tune she knew very well, although it was not one she had ever wanted to hear again. Eventually she noticed it was coming from a small, dusty looking bookshop on the corner of the street she and Carmelita were walking down. It was hardly the sort of place she would ever even glance at: Esmé had never been the academic type, having left school at the age of thirteen due to a strange and tragic incident from which she had never truly recovered.
‘What’s wrong?’ Carmelita asked, looking anxiously up at her guardian. They had known each other for two years now, and Carmelita recognised that expression to mean that she was remembering something from her distant and mysterious past, a past she had never gotten up the courage to share in full.
‘Nothing,’ Esmé replied, although Carmelita could see tears welling up in her eyes as she spoke. ‘This was just my father’s favourite song, and his father’s before him. It’s even how I got my name. I changed it after he died,’ she added, registering Carmelita’s bewildered expression.
‘What were you called then?’ she asked innocently. Esmé turned away from the bookshop, and Carmelita could see the grief in her emerald eyes as she whispered the two words that were her best kept secret.
‘Ellington Feint’.
“Once again, I am a child
I let go of everything that I know, everything that I know
And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free
We're still the kids we used to be
I put my hand on the stove, to see if I still bleed
And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free”
Chloe George, “Ghost Town”
Esmé stopped and looked around her, searching for where the music was coming from. It was a tune she knew very well, although it was not one she had ever wanted to hear again. Eventually she noticed it was coming from a small, dusty looking bookshop on the corner of the street she and Carmelita were walking down. It was hardly the sort of place she would ever even glance at: Esmé had never been the academic type, having left school at the age of thirteen due to a strange and tragic incident from which she had never truly recovered.
‘What’s wrong?’ Carmelita asked, looking anxiously up at her guardian. They had known each other for two years now, and Carmelita recognised that expression to mean that she was remembering something from her distant and mysterious past, a past she had never gotten up the courage to share in full.
‘Nothing,’ Esmé replied, although Carmelita could see tears welling up in her eyes as she spoke. ‘This was just my father’s favourite song, and his father’s before him. It’s even how I got my name. I changed it after he died,’ she added, registering Carmelita’s bewildered expression.
‘What were you called then?’ she asked innocently. Esmé turned away from the bookshop, and Carmelita could see the grief in her emerald eyes as she whispered the two words that were her best kept secret.
‘Ellington Feint’.