wish
No idea where this belongs - except for in the urban fae. Wrote it last night and wasn't going to post it, but I like it, so too bad!
Wish
It was hard for him sometimes to be so very compelling. Probably the others would laugh at him for that, but it was true. Drawn to his nature, mortals could not resist him. He was Wish. He was their desires, light or dark; their longings; their secret dreams. And they could feel it. Whatever it was that they wanted, whatever was seemingly unattainable, he brought it out in them.
A man would walk near him in a park and see him sitting on a bench just watching the wind through the fall leaves. Something about him, the way he sat, the way he moved, the way the breeze blew his hair; and the man would feel the tug of those things that he wanted so dearly but could not have. A meaningful life, a place in the world he could be proud of. Something greater. Did it make the man feel sad? Did it make him strive for better things? Wish would never actually know. So few actually talked to Wish.
Sitting on just such a park bench, he was surprised when a girl sat next to him. She was haggard with lack of sleep, weak - possibly from hunger and tousled as if nothing had tidied her in a long time. She was… beautiful. Her hair was that strange color they called sandy blonde; not a real color at all. No color in nature really mimicked it. Her eyes were a deep gray that most would call dull, but that he was sure he could fall into if he looked long enough. Looking into her eyes, he could see tears that she seemed to be holding back.
"I know" she said in a small sweet voice, " I can't seem to stop crying." She looked down, not really ashamed, just very tired. "Are you ever sad?" She didn't look at him as she said it, but looked up at the yellow and orange leaves framed against an October sky. "It strikes me that you should be. I mean, everyone comes to you with their… well, their wishes, I guess." She looked straight into his eyes and said quietly, "That just seems really hard. Does anyone ever wish for you? To make you happy? To find out your secrets, your hopes, your desires?"
He knew she was mortal, he could feel it as all but the weakest of his kind could. How could she know these things about him? How could she know how lonely it was to be Wish?
"Sometimes." He did not mean to whisper, but could not seem to speak the words loudly. "Sometimes I am sad."
"It's funny, you know. I dream things that can't possibly be true." Again she would not look at him. "I dream of men and women so beautiful it hurts the eyes. I dream of a girl made of smoke that can never touch the ones she loves. And I dream of you. Of Wish. The one that finds what people desire, but never finds his own desires. His own heart." Again her eyes were drawn back into his. "That is what I wish. For you to find your heart."
Wish
It was hard for him sometimes to be so very compelling. Probably the others would laugh at him for that, but it was true. Drawn to his nature, mortals could not resist him. He was Wish. He was their desires, light or dark; their longings; their secret dreams. And they could feel it. Whatever it was that they wanted, whatever was seemingly unattainable, he brought it out in them.
A man would walk near him in a park and see him sitting on a bench just watching the wind through the fall leaves. Something about him, the way he sat, the way he moved, the way the breeze blew his hair; and the man would feel the tug of those things that he wanted so dearly but could not have. A meaningful life, a place in the world he could be proud of. Something greater. Did it make the man feel sad? Did it make him strive for better things? Wish would never actually know. So few actually talked to Wish.
Sitting on just such a park bench, he was surprised when a girl sat next to him. She was haggard with lack of sleep, weak - possibly from hunger and tousled as if nothing had tidied her in a long time. She was… beautiful. Her hair was that strange color they called sandy blonde; not a real color at all. No color in nature really mimicked it. Her eyes were a deep gray that most would call dull, but that he was sure he could fall into if he looked long enough. Looking into her eyes, he could see tears that she seemed to be holding back.
"I know" she said in a small sweet voice, " I can't seem to stop crying." She looked down, not really ashamed, just very tired. "Are you ever sad?" She didn't look at him as she said it, but looked up at the yellow and orange leaves framed against an October sky. "It strikes me that you should be. I mean, everyone comes to you with their… well, their wishes, I guess." She looked straight into his eyes and said quietly, "That just seems really hard. Does anyone ever wish for you? To make you happy? To find out your secrets, your hopes, your desires?"
He knew she was mortal, he could feel it as all but the weakest of his kind could. How could she know these things about him? How could she know how lonely it was to be Wish?
"Sometimes." He did not mean to whisper, but could not seem to speak the words loudly. "Sometimes I am sad."
"It's funny, you know. I dream things that can't possibly be true." Again she would not look at him. "I dream of men and women so beautiful it hurts the eyes. I dream of a girl made of smoke that can never touch the ones she loves. And I dream of you. Of Wish. The one that finds what people desire, but never finds his own desires. His own heart." Again her eyes were drawn back into his. "That is what I wish. For you to find your heart."