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Beautiful - Ann x Tom

My heart thumps heavily as I cross the threshold into Tom's bedroom. So many times I have noted the door, always closed, on my way up to Gemma's room, but never have I dared to even dream of what may lie behind it. Now that I step inside, careful not to make a sound, I see that it is perfectly ordinary. Of course there is a dresser, curiously topped with a human skull. I shudder involuntarily, for I've always feared the macabre.

Then there is his desk, buried beneath mountains of papers and medical journals. So kind he is to dedicate his life to helping the unfortunate. Could he perhaps ever find it in his heart to care for me? Or will I be doomed to never receive his attention unless I am deathly ill? I sigh longingly, thinking of how wonderful a story would be if a handsome doctor were to fall in love with his patient, a girl with no jewels to call her own, but with a heart of gold. Under his desperate care, she recovers fully, and they live happily ever after. It rather makes me wish for influenza…

Above his dresser there is a mirror; in the mirror is a girl I have always wanted to be. She is beautiful, achingly so, if I do say so myself. The type of girl that no one would ever care to harm, even if she was as poor as a church mouse. So beautiful, in fact, that I do not ever wish to turn away from my reflection. I need that constant reassurance that I am beautiful, and more importantly, that I exist at all. For if I turn away, how am I to know that I am nothing but a shadow, meaningless, but there?

The thrum of magic in my veins reminds me of my sustenance. I am whole with this magic, free to feel and to enjoy it. It may be borrowed magic, but it is mine, if only for the moment.

There is more to the room, but I torture myself to not see it yet. I am used to such pain, inflicting it upon myself in small doses, like how I pace my absorption of my blessed surroundings. I've never been brave enough to take it all at once, and that cowardice does not fail me here. It is a shame when bravery means suicide and weakness means life. It is twisted and unhealthy, but there it is, and even Gemma's beautiful magic cannot fix it.

Or perhaps it can.

A soft rustling behind me pulls me from my reflection. In an instant my heart burns and flutters, like the sun-kissed butterflies I once created from simple pebbles. I gaze lovingly over Tom's form beneath the heavy blankets, noting with pure adoration the open book falling from his hand and the wisps of golden hair falling into his still-bespectacled eyes. I could look at him for all of eternity, loving him like no one else ever could.

It is with these shameful moments that I am free to notice things about him that I never could before. The way his nose turns slightly upwards, the smattering of freckles across his slightly hollowed cheeks, the fair stubble upon his strong jaw…and then his lips, slightly parted and just begging for a kiss. I'd never have the courage. I could never steal something so precious, for I don't deserve it. I never have and I never will.

I sigh heavily, though the breath leaves my lips in a musical way, creating a note so beautiful that even I feel heartened by it. With this magic I am a girl deserving of love. Why shouldn't I have my kiss, the hero to my stories? Why should it be by birth that I am denied, with no chance of ever receiving?

Still, it does not feel right to kiss Tom while he is sleeping. I suppose I can only content myself with the sight of him, and perhaps maybe the lightly touching of his hair. I am surprised to feel how fine it is, slipping between my fingers like water. I feel a bit scandalous, touching him like this, but instead of pulling away, I am thrilled. It is like we are from an ancient Greek myth, the one where the moon goddess falls in love with a man but can only see him whilst he sleeps.

Tom stirs against my touch; my heart stops as he opens his eyes.

"Ann?" he murmurs, reaching up to touch my cheek. I am frozen without words or motions to aid me. "Am I dreaming?"

I cling to this excuse. "Yes, Tom," I whisper, counting on the magic to make my voice soothing and beautiful. "You are sleeping. This is a dream."

He closes his eyes and smiles slightly. "That's nice," he mumbles. I do not wish for him to fall back asleep. Strangely enough, now that he's awake, I want him to see me as I am now, beautiful from the realms. But I cannot bring myself to disturb him further.

"You are an angel, Ann," he says.

My heart skips a beat. "How so?" I whisper, leaning in to hear his answer. However, he gives none. Sitting up, I reach for one of my beautiful ringlets. With near panic, I notice that the gleam is gone and the flatness is back. I stand and gaze into the mirror, hoping that the beautiful girl still gazes back. Instead, it is just me, plain old Ann.

My heart breaks, for I know I must leave, before the magic drains completely. I shuffle towards the door as quickly as I can. Tom looks up and I curse myself for being so loud.

"Ann? Where are you going?"

"I must leave."

He squints his eyes at me and I shudder, knowing he must be wondering why I am so ugly all of a sudden. "I want to kiss you," he says softly.

For a moment, I am startled by his declaration. Why would beautiful Tom want to kiss me, not beautiful me, but just plain me? Even so, the longing I feel is more than I have ever felt before. I cannot control my conflicting thoughts – indulge myself, or save him from kissing someone so plain.

In the end I compromise, holding my hand out as daintily as I can, for him to place his warm lips upon. His kiss threatens to melt me into a puddle of Ann, though a happy puddle at least. My eyes catch his, as clear as the bluest sky in spring. I break the contact as I walk to the door.

Despite the pounding of my heart in my ears, I catch still catch one last thing from his lips.

"Beautiful…"

I shut the door and hurry outside, knowing that even if the magic is gone, I can still fly.

I hope I did Ann justice! I've never attempted to write in her point of view until now.

Tom x Ann equals Tann. Teehee!

Karma is next,
LunaEquus

Reviews? They make me feel special. I like feeling special. So does Ann. And everyone else in the world.