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@Nie-Huaisang-is-lost-in-the-stars group

Prompt: I’ve lost track of time.

Hey there, Mom.

I know that it has been awhile. I really miss you. Do you miss me too? Actually nevermind, that’s not important. I just wanted to know that that little boy you raised so long ago has grown up, I’ve made to highschool, Mom. Aren’t you proud? This is what you always wanted, right? For me to have a better opportunity in life, right? Well, I have it. I’m in an advanced academic class and I have good grades. I hope I’m that star you wished for.

I hope you see this!

Love,

Your son, Kenneth.

I sat back slowly, examining over the letter. It didn’t feel right, it felt… fake. I quickly crumbled it up and threw it towards a trash bin.

“For three!” I whisper-shouted. Per usual, the tiny paper ball missed, contributing to what I like to call Miny Kilimanjaro. I let out a soft sigh and lifted the pen once more. My messy handwriting scrawled across the paper, most words were illegible, even to me.

But at that moment, to me, seeing what a wrote did not matter. What mattered was feeling what I wrote. I held the paper up, the words that were once illegible became oh so clear.

Hi, Mom.

I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve seen you. It feels like years but only seems like yesterday. It’s just another one of these random letters. I don’t even know if you’re seeing these, but it doesn’t matter. I just wanted to tell you that you made the right choice, Mrs. Nixon and her husband treat me quite nice. I’m getting along with my new siblings well too. I don’t know if I’m happier here, but I know I’m happy. Thank you for everything forevermore.

You still have a place in my heart,

Kenny.

A small smile stretched across my face. That was the one.

I quickly enveloped it and sent it off to my mother’s last known address, 709, West Firebird Lane. It was a small attempt to reconnect, but it was one nonetheless.

In due time- and by that, I mean after I stopped staring at the mailbox- I breezed back into my home and flopped onto my marshmallowy mattress. My eyes stared up at the ceiling as my eyelids slid down, closing down the show of that day behind warm curtains.

I hadn’t expected anything out of the ordinary the next morning. Get up and ready for the day, give everyone their mail, and leave for school. The normal stuff. It was the safety in the monotonous cycle of life that made me sad. As if the world would never change. But to my surprise, something new happened.

I handed Mrs. Nixon the mail and began to walk off until I heard her call after me.

“Kenneth, darling.” she called, “this is yours.”

I quickly strode over, my eyebrows so close together with confusion, that they practically intertwined. I grabbed a small envelope from her gentle hands and read what was written on it. My eyes widened in shock. It familiar scribbly handwriting, the envelope displayed two large words.

To Kenneth.

Metric

Thirty-five: I saw you somewhere before.

"This one's intuitive." The voice was soft but full of subtle strength. It was defensive and a tiny bit frustrated.

Glen shifted in his sleep, hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. His eyebrows were drawn in an expression of pain and discomfort, and he seemed no closer to consciousness.

Slowly, a cool hand descended upon his brow, sweeping away the bangs with a note of gentle affection.

"He's weak," another voice replied dismissively. "You'd be wise to keep from revealing your presence to him again. His body can't keep coping with these…memory alterations."

There was a pause in which the woman continued untangling the boy's hair, before a soft, "And what if we were to forego the lies, Ali?"

"…You know why we can't do that. He'd become dependent on you to solve every one of his problems. He's the same as other humans, Diane."

He's different, she wanted to say, but she held her tongue. Arguing with Ali wouldn't get her anywhere.

Both angels watched the labored rising and falling of the boy's chest for a moment.

"Diane, you know I wish you the best. But if I may offer you some advice? Lose your affection for the boy. Winter is on its way, and it'll be a miracle if he survives even that."

Diane forced back tears, wondering how her former companion could be so cruel. Still, she said nothing. She held her silence until Ali left, fading into the background like they'd all been trained to do.

It was only when she was sure he wouldn't come back that she allowed herself to break down, reaching to cradle the boy in her arms. "I'm sorry that this world is such a hopeless place, child, but you must keep fighting," she murmured, planting a kiss on the top of his head.

She didn't care that his hair was greasy and unclean, nor the fact that is was foul-smelling and stringy. She didn't care that his clothes were ragged and his skin was still feverish. She didn't even care that they were huddled in the smallest corner of the dingiest alley she'd ever seen him settle in. All she cared about was her helplessness at this moment and her slowly mounting fury towards the hierarchy of angels.

Glen stirred once again in her arms. His eyelids parted just slightly, his lashes making his vision seem a little fuzzy. Or maybe that was just the fever. It was probably the latter, he decided, since, if he wasn't mistaken, someone appeared to be holding him.

His tired eyes found the women's face and he frowned as if recalling a distant memory. "I saw you somewhere before, I think," he spoke, his voice hoarse and confused.

"Intuitive," Diane softly repeated to herself, squeezing the boy comfortingly. "Sleep, child. I'll be here when you wake again." You just won't see me.

@Althalosian-is-the-father book

He finished the calls at last, and with a sigh he turned off all the screens, and let his shoulders fall. For once, he looked like a regular person. Not a lord. Someone who was just a human. Like her. He turned and saw her. The authority leapt back into his features immediately.
"Jayla," he said, voice untouched by emotion, the facade back up once more.
"You look tired," she said softly, "I thought you could use something to drink maybe?" She took two mugs from behind her, filled with a concoction she had ordered: warmed milk and sweetness, with enough of a touch of soft alcohol to make him sleep when the time came.
He hesitated, but took the cup slowly.
She had to laugh quietly to himself. No matter how much he would deny it, Jayla knew he wanted something that the servants did not give him. He was weak. Starving. And she would be their to answer his call. Soon enough he would break. No matter how he resisted, he would soon love her as much as she loved him.
He gave her the cup back. "You may return to your place," he said, no hardness to his command.
She took it carefully. "Of course, Lord."
She walked away without turning back. She did not need to. She could feel him watching her back carefully. Waiting for her to be gone so that he could be free and alone. Waiting for a time to be himself. Soon she knew he would not watch her so. Soon she would be one of the only ones to be gifted with the prize of seeing who he was behind all closed doors. Only she would penetrate those walls. But to her, it was all the victory in the world.

@Althalosian-is-the-father book

So she actually was supposed to be. Her original character was a jealous power lusting seductress.
But she was like, "Nah, I'm a lovesick child that is hopelessly head over heals for a guy beyond her league." And there she stayed. But yeah. When writing this I realized it did come off as a little evil. But she's not. She just really wants him to be happy and loved.