Hiraeth
|heer-eyeth| (n.)
a homesickness for a home you can't return to, or a home that never was.
As humans, each one of us yearns for something oh so deeply, and not all of us might get that. But if we ever do, we keep it so close to us, clingin...
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❛❛She never cared about the crown, for she preferred the sword.❜❜
❛❛「₪」❜❜
A pair of raven-black eyes open themselves to the world, as the sun conquers the sky again. Sighing, she slowly raises herself up and sits on the warm bed, the comforter still hugging her cold body. She sleepily looks at herself in the mirror of her dressing table. Her black hair would usually kiss her shoulders with grace. But in the mornings, they had a different plan. Filled with tangles, her hair looks a total mess today. She holds her head in her hands, cursing at herself for being so careless. With a scar at the side of her forehead, just near her eyes, Lake Ari Butterfield doesn't possess the most beautiful features. But oh, her lips. They are an impeccable blend of the bliss of heaven, and the sins of hell. With a tinge of pink, her lips are nice and full, perfectly kissable, and as if that isn't enough, the words that left those lips were always witty, intellectual, and in times of need- might I add- savage too. As she somehow gets up from the bed- for yes, she ain't much of a morning person- her tall figure stands erect in front of the full-length mirror. As she takes off her sweatshirt, her sports bra comes into vision, along with her six packs, which wrap her stomach beautifully. She turns around to have a good look at herself from behind, and another pair of scars hug her back, reminding her of the wars she has survived. She loves that part of her. All in all, Lake Butterfield is a whole mood.
She puts on her black hoodie, and shivers as the feeling of warmth suddenly takes over. Slipping her feet into her Converse, she grabs her phone and Air Pods and puts her favourite playlist on. She leaves her house and breathes in her new surroundings. She is yet to get used to this new place she has just shifted to. She starts jogging, as a slight fog prevails in the area. She is oblivious to the chirping of the birds as the music practically bangs in her ears. However, the sound of the music slowly fades away, as the thoughts in her head become louder.
She is here for her job. She is here for a very important task and she absolutely cannot afford to make mistakes. She inhales and exhales repeatedly to calm herself down. A small smile forms on her lips as she thinks of her father. Lake used to get panic attacks often, as a kid, and her dad would always ask her to breathe. It always calmed her down as a kid. But she wasn't a kid anymore. The technique would have stopped working ages ago had the thought of her father not accompanied it each time she took deep breaths. The thought of her family always seemed to make her feel better.
Lake wonders what her parents must be doing, right now. Then the thought of her sister, Livia, crosses her mind. She makes a mental note to call her family tonight after she returns from work. If she is left with enough peace of mind after work, that is.
After around 45 minutes of running, Lake stops in front of her house, and she is left breathless. Panting, she bends down and holds onto her knees for support. Running restlessly has its effects on one. But her lack of breath doesn't stop her from admiring her new home. It is not very big, but it's the most beautiful and comfortable place in her opinion. And that alone is enough for her to call it home.
