Origins: Everlong
EM Godiva and EM Drosselmeyer
Fourteen-year-old Michael shielded his eyes from the sun as he held his breath, watching Charlotte. He loved her so much. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her.
Twelve-year-old Charlotte Christianson grinned as she nimbly made her way up the tree. A few months ago, Michael had helped her climb one for the first time. Her parents had been too busy to ever teach Charlotte how to climb trees. Her parents were usually too busy to do anything with Charlotte. This made Michael even more protective of her.
After Charlotte settled on a branch, she carefully began to pick the fruit with her gloved hands and drop them down to Michael, who placed them in a bushel. Later, he would take them to the farmer’s market and sell them. For the last two years, Michael had been making money here and there by doing odd jobs. Though he never made much gold at a time, with Charlotte’s help, he had managed to save up enough to buy a modest plot of land. He hoped to surprise her with a home of their own in the near future.
Charlotte absentmindedly began singing, which made Michael smile. Her spirits were lifted by the melodies that lived inside her when she brought them forth, but the desire to do so was fleeting and rare.
Since Charlotte was no longer paying attention to him, Michael allowed his gaze to drift down to her gloved hands. Waves of anger, sadness, and helplessness washed over him. Michael silently vowed that, once he got her away from this place, he would keep her safe for the rest of their lives.
(A big “Thank you!” to EM Drosselmeyer for his help with this piece.)
EM Godiva and EM Drosselmeyer
Fourteen-year-old Michael shielded his eyes from the sun as he held his breath, watching Charlotte. He loved her so much. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her.
Twelve-year-old Charlotte Christianson grinned as she nimbly made her way up the tree. A few months ago, Michael had helped her climb one for the first time. Her parents had been too busy to ever teach Charlotte how to climb trees. Her parents were usually too busy to do anything with Charlotte. This made Michael even more protective of her.
After Charlotte settled on a branch, she carefully began to pick the fruit with her gloved hands and drop them down to Michael, who placed them in a bushel. Later, he would take them to the farmer’s market and sell them. For the last two years, Michael had been making money here and there by doing odd jobs. Though he never made much gold at a time, with Charlotte’s help, he had managed to save up enough to buy a modest plot of land. He hoped to surprise her with a home of their own in the near future.
Charlotte absentmindedly began singing, which made Michael smile. Her spirits were lifted by the melodies that lived inside her when she brought them forth, but the desire to do so was fleeting and rare.
Since Charlotte was no longer paying attention to him, Michael allowed his gaze to drift down to her gloved hands. Waves of anger, sadness, and helplessness washed over him. Michael silently vowed that, once he got her away from this place, he would keep her safe for the rest of their lives.
(A big “Thank you!” to EM Drosselmeyer for his help with this piece.)
