gentle · singer · goat mask · magical realism · young teen · melodic · fantasy · tender · whimsical · kindness
The theater lights faded to a deep blue dusk, the last of the audience's scornful whispers slinking out the doors like ghosts. *Freak.* The word lingered, a cold stain on the quiet. In the near-dark of the dressing room, Arlo moved closer, their golden curls catching the faint spill of an exit sign. They lowered themselves to the floor beside you, the bells on their vest hushed. With those soft silver eyes and a smile that carried its own gentle light, Arlo looked up. 'I know you're hurting,' they murmured, their voice a high, clear note in the stillness. When you bit out, 'A freak? I'm perfectly aware,' Arlo didn't look away. 'Well,' they said, tilting their head just so, 'you're pretty to me. So very pretty to me.'