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║honeysuckle hymns to helios ━━━ (CHAPTER TWO)
ANEMONE SWORE THE SUN HATED HER WITH A BURNING PASSION. Burning... passion... get it? Nevermind, forget what she said. As she tended to the swaying daffodils consumed in dulcet laughter, sunshine glowed through the window panes and peppered golden kisses across her skin, the sun itself rising high above Hage village's skyline as it loomed pleasantly, almost giving the feeling of golden fairies prancing over the wooden houses prowling below. As usual, she could hear the cheerful noises of young children playing tag with one another outside and the soft delightful humming coming from her own lips.
"Good morning, dear." She heard her mother greet from behind. Rhea Coralis was Hage village's florist. There was nothing special about her, just charcoal-hued curls gracefully falling to her waist and irises a rich and vivid green colour. She looked nothing like her daughter, who had been described by the other villagers to look like an ethereal goddess descending from the Lost City of Atlantis, blue hair resembling waves with beautiful irises swirled in a mixture of multiple teal hues reflecting the infinite ocean and all.
Her mother once said she takes after her father, although Anemone had never seen her father before. Mother said he died in an accident a long time ago when she was just a year old. Even so, their house had naked walls. There was not a single photo of her father anywhere and her mother hardly talked about him. Every time Anemone would ask about him, her mother either ignored her or insisted she'd talk about her father at a later date. She never specified that later date and Anemone eventually stopped asking altogether when she was nine.
"Morning, Mother. Did you sleep well last night?" Anemone asked, her voice lacing with concern as she spotted the bags under her mother's eyes.
"I tried to." She replied honestly, fetching herself a mug to fill with water. "I think I tossed around too much on my bed last night. A bad dream, maybe. Goodness me, I can hardly remember my dreams as soon as I wake up." Dry chuckles reverberated around the house coming from the back of her sore throat. "I hope your night was better than mine."
"Yeah, I had a good sleep." Anemone admitted, pulling out a chair for her mother first before pulling out a chair for herself. "My dream last night was about... well, I can't remember either," she scratched the top of her head as she tried to think hard enough to recall, "...except when I woke up, my first decipherable thought was 'you can make hot sauce, but I ain't gonna call it sweet'."
That was false. Anemone had no decipherable thought whatsoever as soon as she woke up that day. In actuality, she had a dream about a badger dressed as a musketeer with a swiping fox as its sidekick, both of them going on an adventure to steal a magical spice rack from a zeppelin. She thought her dream was awfully too strange so she wound up saying what she said instead just to make her mother laugh genuinely. And she did.
