Beauty. Rebecca knew the term well enough. The word was used for her more than she can count. Proposals. Flirtations. Envious women. The word was used in all of these situations. Beauty also had a price, and Rebecca knew this. Beauty and talent? That price was as real as the bed beneath her, and known as much as a good friend, or enemy. But, if beauty had a price, what was the price of love? Is it the pain she felt when the beautiful was away? Or the feeling when they glanced at her or even the delicious distraction the thought of them was?
Live. Suffer. Die. That was the order she knew. That she always knew. But, recently that absolute order had been swayed for her. Live. Love. Die? The thought of it was ridiculous enough. Yet, she could feel it like the warming sun. She was a tool, wasn't she? Her life was on a parmarchment. She was raised to learn to love. Not to choose who she loves, but love to be chosen. Even her condition matched what she was. She couldn't be too excited, or she woud fall. Fade in to nothingness, to nothing but a memory of her beauty. "Perhaps that is best. Perhaps, it would mean less misfortune for them. Perhaps..."
@WalnutNinja @Satisarah @seoulmate @GodRoleplayer @Optimalfriskies
Live. Suffer. Die. That was the order she knew. That she always knew. But, recently that absolute order had been swayed for her. Live. Love. Die? The thought of it was ridiculous enough. Yet, she could feel it like the warming sun. She was a tool, wasn't she? Her life was on a parmarchment. She was raised to learn to love. Not to choose who she loves, but love to be chosen. Even her condition matched what she was. She couldn't be too excited, or she woud fall. Fade in to nothingness, to nothing but a memory of her beauty. "Perhaps that is best. Perhaps, it would mean less misfortune for them. Perhaps..."
@WalnutNinja @Satisarah @seoulmate @GodRoleplayer @Optimalfriskies
