 astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf
Zinnia led Elena through the open archway of the living room, the scent of warm spices and crisp herbs teasing the air as they stepped inside. Ramiel had outdone himself yet again. A polished tray rested on the low table, laden with delicate finger foods - honey-drizzled goat cheese crostini, savory tarts with hints of rosemary, and a neat arrangement of fruit and charcuterie. Zinnia, on the other hand, was lucky if she could ever treat her husband to a spaghetti dinner without burning the pasta or overcooking it so much that it turned into a giant lump of soggy carbohydrates. The golden glow of the late afternoon sun spilled through the grand window, stretching long across the wooden floors and illuminating the vast grounds beyond. Her gaze flickered past the food to the grand window, where the cliffs stretched wide and wild while the sea glimmered, restless and eternal. The manicured green stretching out toward the private Quidditch pitch effortlessly pulled her gaze every single time, the towering hoops standing tall against the endless blue of Kenmare Bay beyond.
This home, it's land, all of it shaped by will and care.
A home built with her own hands...well, Ramiel’s hands, but hers in spirit and as a consultant. A life, a sanctuary, shaped from the bones of everything she had fought for. And now, Elena was here, standing beside her, taking it all in. It was a quiet kind of fulfillment, unexpected yet deeply gratifying.
"I hope you're hungry," she said, laughter curling around her words as she gestured toward the spread. She rolled her shoulders, shaking free of the heavier thoughts that threatened to weigh her down. Her niece was here, so there was no time for such nonsense. "My husband," she added with a amused shake of the head and brief rub of her forehead, plucking a crostini from the tray. "...always the overzealous one when it comes to hosting." Though Zinnia could hardly deny that trait ran in her blood as well. A trait she had learned to make it her own, turning the dutiful hostess into something of her own making. It was a role she embraced now, not as a chore, but as a way to share the warmth she had once been denied.
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When you're stuck in a moment and your spark has been stolen .................................................. ...........
this is our time to own it, so own it.....................................
baby we were born with fire and gold in our eyes |