“Why do you do that?”
Kiena looked up, startled by the intrusion. The object in front of her shimmering purple for a second, before returning to pale yellow. Her eyes met Düne, who had been somewhat stand-offish around her.
Kiena looked back at the glowing fishbowl, watching the flowers float serene on the water, “It helps brighten the atmosphere. With mirth and light.”
“I understand this,” Düne sat down opposite of her, “but why are you doing it?”
“I like gifting people with Joy and mirth.” She responded quietly.
“It seems to me,” Düne leaned forward, “that you save very little for yourself.”
The object shimmered green and orange, Kiena did not notice, but Düne did.
“I have plenty of joy.” Her voice was not confident. In fact she suddenly fell sullen.
Düne smiled knowingly. He had struck a cord. “You are not required to be fake, Kiena. You’re beautiful and unique as you are. I don’t know what hurt you. But what I do know is you cannot hide from the heartache.”
A tear escaped, tracing her cheek with a glisten, “Excuse me.” Wisking her tear quickly away, the faerie leaned over for another fishbowl.
Düne understood the cue and excused himself, watching as Kiena tried to make the next fishbowl glow.
She felt a heavy sadness settle into her stomach. She could produce hope. Even if she didn’t always allow herself to feel it. It was her right. Nobody else should suffer because she did.
So why must she be so obvious?