Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Poison and Glass
Cinder stared down into the brown liquid. The steam wafted up, filling her nose with the pleasant smell of tea. A pleasant-smelling beverage for unpleasant people. Her step-mother and two step-sisters. She could hear them talking out in the dining room – a room too big with a too long table meant for too few people. Their voices rose and fell as the two sisters began their usual arguments. Not a day went by that they didn't get into a screaming-match. No winner there, just losers all around.
The blonde grazed her lips with her fingertips, remembering the bloody kiss. It had been days since the intimate exchange. Ivory had yet to kiss her again, but every day when she went to her favorite bench, there Ivory was, waiting. Sometimes it frightened her when she had to return to this place that wasn't really a home, not her home anyways, because she was so completely sure that it was never real. That Ivory was just some dream that would soon turn to dust when reality came back with a forceful shove. Relief always made her knees buckle when she found Ivory right where she left her, as if she had never left to begin with.
The two never ran out of things to say, stories to tell. Cinder's struggle with her step-family, catering to their every whim. Coming at their beck and call. Ivory's struggle with perfection and rising to expectations.
"You don't have to be perfect around me," Cinder had told her one day. "You can just be yourself."
"Myself?" Ivory murmured thoughtfully. "I don't think I know who that is."
Cinder laced her fingers through Ivory's and smiled. "Not yet, but maybe we can both meet her. Together."
When Ivory returned the smile, Cinder felt a flutter in her chest – her usual reaction to the dark-haired girl's smile.
Remembering that afternoon brought a genuine smile to Cinder's face, but it quickly diminished when she heard the yell, "Cinder! What is taking you so long?!"
"Coming!" she called back, hands gripping either side of the silver tray, but before she picked it up from the counter, she paused. Suddenly, the small vial in the brown pouch tied around her waist was incredibly heavy. Slowly, she drew her hands back and slipped her index finger and thumb into the flap of the pouch and withdrew the vial. Bringing it up to eye level, she stared at it, hard. It wasn't anything special, just a mini, clear container. The uniqueness of it lay within.
It was a strange, dark liquid. When she first caught a whiff of it, it tickled her nose before making it burn. That was when Ivory snatched it away. "It's not something you should smell for long," she had told her, corking it. "Not unless you want to keep the ability to smell."
"What is it?" Cinder inquired with interest.
"Just a little something I got from one of the dealers from the Underground. One drop would kill a grown man," Ivory placed it into a small brown pouch before using a long piece of twine to secure the bag around Cinder's waist. "It's for you."
"But . . . why?" she felt the need to ask despite having an idea.
"Just in case," Ivory replied with a small shrug. "In case it gets to be too much. And, when you're ready, I'll be waiting. I'll take you away from here."
"Really?"
"Promise."
"Cinder!"
Cinder blinked, torn out of her memory by the shrill voice of her step-mother. She closed her eyes for a moment. Then opened them, her decision made. She pulled the cork from the bottle, distributed a few careful drops to each cup then replaced the cork and stashed the vial back into her pouch. She stirred the tea again, lay the spoon to the side, picked up the tray once more, and didn't even hesitate as she left the kitchen and entered the dining room.
The cut would end up a scar. Ivory was ecstatic. She was marked by imperfection and she had someone who she could be herself around, not that she quite knew who herself was. Not now anyways, but soon. The scar seemed to say, "You are imperfect." Cinder said, "You don't have to be perfect around me."
And Ivory believed her, because Cinder's eyes spoke nothing but truth. There was always a play of emotions on her face. One Ivory most often saw was worry. It often appeared when she was about to leave, back to that mansion of horrors. It darkened her face, made her lip quiver, but she always managed the smallest of smiles before setting off.
Once, a few days after the kiss, Ivory had asked about that.
Cinder's face turned pink. She dropped her head and confessed to the ground. "Sometimes I wonder if you're really real. If any of this is. I use to imagine my mother and father were still alive. It'd seem so real that when I was brought back to the true reality of my life, I'd start crying. It was like my parents would die all over again every time I fantasized about them." She paused and brought her head up, teary blue eyes searching Ivory's face. "I don't want this to be pretend. I don't want to be alone again."
"Oh, Cinder," Ivory closed the gap between them, brought cool fingertips to Cinder's cheek, brushed a loose strand of hair back, behind her ear. "You won't ever be alone again. You have me now. I'm as real as the trees and the sky and the ground. I'm as real as you."
Cinder smiled. It was weak, but it was something. "Alright."
Ivory was once again staring into the mirror. It was still broken though the shards had been swept up long ago. Perhaps she should've gotten a new mirror, but, truth be told, she quite liked this one now. It was cracked, giving off twisted reflections to anyone who peered at it. It wasn't perfect. Or flawless. Now, it was like her.
But, maybe everyone was a little messed up. A little twisted. Cracked. Sometimes even broken beyond repair. It was what made them mortal. Human. Something that Ivory was slowly becoming. No one was perfect, despite what people, who saw her, thought. Mistakes and aches and broken hearts were just part of life. Like love and pain and joy and sorrow – like Cinder's lullaby, she thought. A smile appeared on her face. Yes, I believe so. Cinder's lullaby is life. A haunting melody that stays with us till the day we die, bringing tears to our eyes and hope in our hearts.
Her finger traced over the cut. She remembered what she gave Cinder. The poison. She didn't know if Cinder would be able to use it, but if worse came to worse, she wanted her to be prepared to do something. Maybe worse wouldn't come to worse though, maybe the demands and ridicule would simply overwhelm her. Either way, the vial was always with Cinder if the need to use it ever arose.
When she had promised Cinder to take her away, she meant it. She meant it with her entire being. They'd take a journey, make discoveries, and, hopefully, start anew. They were both young and had their whole lives ahead of them. It was time to get out there and find, dare Ivory say, a new beginning. There were wonders around every corner and she was determined to find them all and take Cinder along for the ride.
Thinking of the blonde, her angel, sent a thrill through her and it was enough to get her out the door and off to their usual meeting place. Things felt different today. Ivory couldn't decide if it was good different or bad different. Just different.
Cinder was early. She sat on the stone bench, waiting for Ivory rather than the other way around. Upon seeing her, she rose to her feet and met her halfway. "I did it."
"You did . . . it?" Ivory's voice lowered to a whisper. "The . . . the poison it?"
"Yes. I was tired of being a maid. A slave. I wanted freedom. My own freedom. With you. No one will notice, because they hardly get out much," Cinder tilted her head to the side, looking like Ivory did the first time she introduced herself. "Ivory?"
"Yes?"
"You said you'd take me away from here."
"I did."
"You promised."
"Of course."
"Is . . . that a promise you had intentions of keeping?"
"I wouldn't have made it otherwise."
Cinder stared and Ivory stared back. Then Cinder leaned forward, slipped her arms around Ivory's neck, and kissed her. Ivory closed her eyes in response and snaked her own arms around Cinder's waist, kissing back. This wasn't like their first kiss. It was longer. Sweeter.
Perfect.
For once, Ivory felt no disgust toward the word, but rather, welcomed it. This kiss was Cinder's lullaby and cracked mirrors, igniting hopes and fraying dreams, coals ready to burn again and lingering fear of the unknown that awaited them.
But, that was okay, because whatever lay ahead, they would face it. Hand-in-hand. Imperfectly perfect. Flawlessly flawed. Not quite broken. Ready to take flight. Together.
