Information

Fyora Beaufort

The

Sweetheart Bumbus
Owner:

Moonfox

Age: 4 months, 2 weeks, 3 days

Born: December 17th, 2023

Adopted: 4 months, 2 weeks, 3 days ago

Adopted: December 17th, 2023

Statistics

Level: 80
Strength: 81
Defense: 82
Speed: 81
Health: 66
HP: 60/66
Intelligence: 117
Books Read: 117
Food Eaten: 35
Job: Lead Librarian

CREDITS

profile template (c)

helix (get it)
background by IronSteve
Story and whatever else by me :3

A SWEET POISON, BUT IT KILLS JUST THE SAME

When she needed it most, he was there to hold her hand. When her mother sent her away, when her father hardly cared more than to send a letter, when Auntie treated her like a nuisance to be dealt with... He was there. He was there to talk of wonderful and small things such as the hidden pathways in this new city, the best places to buy candy, the parks with the most beautiful flowers. In the late afternoon they'd walk hand in hand in the garden and he'd speak of the beauty in the oddest places, and though she could not see it, she could see beauty in his eyes as he spoke.

🩷

Even back at home, she'd never truly felt at home. The emptiness was always there and, though she could not name it, she could feel it, accutely as a missing limb. That gnawing void that set her apart from others, that made her lesser in the eyes of a strict mother and inconsequential in the eyes of a distant father. Try as she might, she could never fully fit in, and she knew it was because the others could see through her guise and glance at this empty shape deep in her heart. They'd mock her for it, despise her for it, and though rejection had come time and time again it never ceased to sting.

And so it came to a moment where her mask broke and she lashed back, snarled and fought like a beast with claws, and all it got her was to be sent away, cast into this hell as if even in her anger she was nothing but a shame to be forgotten, a mistake to be erased.

🩷

At some point, even without her knowing, he became her home. At service or at dinner he would lean against her and whisper a funny comment in her ear and they'd share secrets between whispers and muffled laughs. At night she'd have his favorite sweets ready and he'd sneak in through her balcony and they would talk the night away, sharing all manners of things as she'd run her fingers through his hair and he would hold her other hand in his. At moments like this she would forget anything and everything at all - that void and her Mother and Father and Auntie and all those girls at the ball - and it was as if nothing else existed if not the two of them. Even when they fought and she wanted to never see him again, she'd wait and wait for that knock on her window and the look of apologetic eyes as he wrote I'm sorry in the foggy glass. And though she would never admit to it, she would rather die than swallow her pride like that, she'd always let him in because there would always be a place just for him in her chest, shaped like her heart.

🩷

It started with the little things to remind her of him when he was gone. Trinkets he gave her, scrabbled notes exchanged during meetings, flowers he'd put in her hair during dance lessons. Then it grew. He was gone more and more, busy with whatever his mother demanded now, and missing him made her all the most aware of how broken she was without him. And so she'd cling to the little portions of him she could get, to the photos and locks of hair and the smell of him on his shirt. He'd never notice, he didn't even know how she felt but she knew it was a matter of time, for they were made for each other just like in all her favorite romance books.They'd occupy most of her time away now, stories of love that she once craved and now longed for, and though sometimes the wait was too much for her she knew, she trusted deep in her soul that it'd come a moment when he would understand.

He would see it, the way they fit perfectly together in the way no one else would, the way they knew each other inside and out because what they shared was deeper and stronger than anyone else could understand. That the strength of a bond this powerful, this mutual pull of attraction could go so beyond life, and death, and blood.

It was only a matter of time.

♥🩷♥