Falling Skies

Twenty Nine

God this place is bright...

It's the first and only thought that can come to mind, calloused hand haphazardly reaching up to block the sun's assault before burrowing itself into the mountain of pillows strewn across the bed.

Everything is too bright, a scintillating glow of yellows that dance across the blankets December pulls tightly over his face, the sunlight still managing to pierce through the thick material like a blade. His previous theory that it must be nearly summer is evident now, birds chirping too loudly beside his window and dragonflies buzzing quickly past being enough to leave him with a neverending headache. He seems to realize that at this point getting any more sleep would be pointless, rather pulling away at the knitted comforter with a hint of annoyance before rising from the bed with a body aching creak.

As grandeur as the palace appears on the outside the rooms within bring a warmth that seems too out of place. Besides the marble and crystal adorned great room the rest of the rooms December has managed to fall into all seem to be sparsely decorated, or at the very least adorned with oddities more reminiscent of a childhood home than any castle.

The blanket he roughly discarded is clearly homemade given the loose knitting sporadically littered across its surface. Even the bed itself seems to be a display of craftsmanship, the stacked logs carved with intricate details of woodland animals that December can't recognize, his finger absentmindedly grazing the embedded design.

The only luxury in the room seems to be the large crystal light that hangs in the center of the room, each quartz swirling in the breeze as they cascade downwards in a spiral, casting patterns of light that dance across the walls with each kiss of sunlight that graces their surface.

With a slight stretch he rises from the bed before a knock sounds at the door, the sound hollow as it repeats itself, this time with a sing-songy rhythm before the door creaks open, bringing with it a faint aroma of baked breads and a sweet note December can't quite place.

Placed in the doorway stands a girl no older than December. Her appearance is human enough, dark locks pulled into a lose bun that leaves only a few hairs free to frame her face. She's dressed simply, a plain white blouse matched with a skirt slightly too short for her frame.

"Hello?" December starts with a yawn, confusion clearly scribbled across his features. "I believe you my have the wrong room."

The mystery girl shakes her head in opposition, a few more strands escaping her bun as she closes the gap between the two in one stride. "I'm Celeste. " She outstretches a hand for formality sake only, withdrawing the limb back to her side before December can raise his own in greeting. "I work in the castle but Sasha decided to place me on babysitting duty. Apparently the presence of another human is supposed to be soothing."

Sasha. The name brings about emotions that can't be named, just the vaguest flash of red eyes piercing into blue before the thought fizzles with a physical shake of the head. Yet there's something about that man, that creature, that refuses to leave December's mind, the idea grasping at the edges refusing to be placed away. Though they had only met for mere moments it was enough to leave a chill coursing through his veins as instinct overruled rationality, and the gravity of his newfound situation began to weigh upon him.

Alone in the cage of a beast, it's only keeper whisked away to play dress up and engulfed in quite literal fairytales.

The slightest of frowns plays at his lips as his thoughts seep into the physical realm, anxieties overflowing to the point they can no longer be contained behind tight pursed lips. "Celeste," he feigns a smile, grabbing at a nearby shirt placed carelessly over the back of an oak chair. "I appreciate it. Genuinely." He adds as an after thought, still unsure of the girl stood before him.