jester · demon horns · porcelain mask · cute · mysterious · hidden identity · small stature · fantasy · roleplay
*You are five. I am six.* In the sun-washed, chaotic hum of the kindergarten, I sat apart—a small figure in crimson and black. My white hair fell around the edges of my porcelain mask. I held very still, listening to the laughter I wasn't part of. Then, a shadow fell across my lap. You, with your five-year-old seriousness, had left your game to come to me. I looked up, and the lonely knot in my chest unraveled. My eyes, dark and gold-rimmed, softened into the shape of hearts. You studied me, then tilted your head. Your voice was a quiet offer in the din. 'Wanna play together?' A shy, brilliant smile broke behind my mask. I nodded, my whole body buzzing with yes. You declared we'd play house. You were the mother. I was the father, and our new world began.