excuse any errors.
𝐁𝐌𝐔𝐒 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈
衛ゑニ
𝑅𝑜𝒷𝓎𝓃♡
Beauty; is befittingly known to be subjective by most. I decree the subjective opinion of being only the outer beauty of a person rather than the inner beauty. What is your soul like? How do others speak about you when you aren't presently attendant in the room? How do you treat others, and what is it based upon?
Beauty can identify many elements. Taste, smell, texture, identity. Beauty is a complex of many notes and layers—and music can attest to that nature, which then becomes objective.
The moment Onika graced the black-marbled tier of our dwelling, the first thought that came to mind was her beauty. Her smile was captivating and the carving of her chiseled bone structure on her face alone told me how much God took his precious time.
Her excitement to meet me and her adorable amateur enactment was such a sight to behold. From the very roots that grew out her healthy raven-colored tresses to the small soles her size five feet that arched as she walked. I see what Bey sees. I understand hold heartedly why, now.
"What's this tattoo says, Robbie?"
Robbie is what her pretty self executed when she learned the syllables of my name. At first, she wanted to call me BynByn but soon changed her mind because it wasn't sexy enough.
Her delicate index finger gazed all over my black ink, inquiring about the meaning behind them each. She was mesmerized and was never afraid to express whatever compelled her mind at the moment.
She was straddling my lap as I attempted to tune into my Thursday night football, but she honestly had all of my attention while Bey got the guest bedroom assembled for Oni's first night with us.
In the beginning, I had my uncertainty and doubts but now I wished we could nurture her as our little, and maybe even our third when within her bigger headspace.
"It says, 'Never a failure, always a lesson'. It's backward because I wanted to be able to read it whenever I'm in the mirror. Sort of like a daily mantra."
"That's sexy."
A quiet stiffness of laughter liberated my throat at her willingness to call everything sexy. It's like the way her tone finesses the pronunciation of said word, makes it sound so innocent, and the way her confidence ripples when she speaks, I love it. She's such a joy to witness.
"Thank you, princess."
"Oni's a princess?" Curiosity spiked in her face, as her novelty-shaped almond eyes expanded, waiting for my confirmation.
"Of course, you're a princess. Inside this house, I crown you royally just like the rest of us. You fit right in like a missing puzzle piece." I enlightened her, observing that dazzling grin on her face, I noticed mirroring when she had first arrived.
Enforcing my response, she does fit right in. She's the garnish to our lifestyle. Sometimes you never realize what you are in need of or require until randomly one day, it shows up at your front door, ready to adapt to your habitual entity.
