#Muses💜 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justalittlelogophile · 2 months ago

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A Public Execution

"We all flow from one fountain - soul. All are expressions of one love." ~John Muir

And so from one soul to another, with nothing but the purest affection within my heart, I deliver my final blow @secretthoughtsofashootingstar

Today was a day for the muses.

Something straight out of a fairytale, the way ridiculously fluffy clouds drifted sleepily across the sky. Their mere existence rocked soothingly by the brush of a spring breeze that held hints of blooming greenery and faded petrichor. The sun was out and shining in all of its golden splendor, casting a warm and cozy glow on everything it touched. A buzz of energy amongst the many patrons found in the hustle and bustle of the local market teased the senses that magic was afoot.

Heh. Magic. Fairytales.

Adrien scoffed slightly under his breath, scuffing his boot somewhat petulantly against the dirty cobblestones that decorated the awning of the fountain that he was currently using as his post.

T’was a simple piece of decorative architecture with cool gray stones that had become speckled and bleached by their constant attention from the midday market sun. Nothing too gaudy or extravagant. Something functional for such a quaint town as this. Simply there to supply water to the local townspeople. Maybe grant a couple of wishes if the small gaggle of children on the far side of said fountain who were tossing their coins into the bubbling water was any indication.

Wishes. What Adrien would give to have one granted at this very moment. Or if not a wish, then at the very least, a coin to make said wish.

A man could dream, he supposed, with a somewhat wry shake of his head.

Casting his eyes back at the soft sound of youthful giggles, Adrien couldn’t help but glance back at the small gurgling fountain. His hand shifted from where he had it resting against his bicep, to momentarily rub the callouses of his fingertips together in an absentminded fidget.

There truly was something magical about the laughter of a child, so innocent and free from the darkness of a cruel world. A world that Adrien was unfortunately becoming more and more familiar with, if the slight scent of soot and the singe marking his cap was anything to twist a tale about.

At that thought, Adrien reached up to pluck off the limp and sagging fabric, letting out a small sigh of relief as the soft breeze tousled through his sweat-matted curls. Twisting his cap between his hands, Adrien found himself unconsciously humming a familiar tune underneath his breath as he continued to watch the giggling children at the fountain with absentminded fondness, teasing the dimple of his cheek.

Yes, the world could be unfairly bitter and dark sometimes, but in these small and simple moments, there would always be a sense of magic. Untainted and bright as it flowed through the living like a song.

The wilted cap in Adrien’s hands fell still for a moment as he let out a small shuddering sigh. He was no magician, no, not by any means. But he had met some through the myriad of his journeys, one in particular his heart had whispered, and knew that they would do everything and anything in their power to protect that sense of wonder in the world.

And how could Adrien ever claim to be a musician, ever look his lighted song in the eyes again, if he was not one to aid in sharing that kind of hope?

So with a new found resolve once again straightening his drooping spine, Adrien looked down at the cap in his hands with a soft chuckle, his dimple twitching again with the urge to smile. Shaking his head, Adrien tossed the cap open faced to rest the of the world with a dramatic flick of his wrist. It landed by his boots with a soft plop, directed with the skill and precision that only a performing musician could.

Reaching up behind him, Adrien snagged the protective leather cover of his fiddle and unlatched it with practiced ease, pulling the treasured instrument from its encasing back into the familiar cradle of his arms. Nestling the rest under his chin felt like second nature now, to the point that he tended to feel more bare without it. To have the cool wood cradling his cheek felt like the comfort of a familiar caress.

Adrien just stood there for a moment, holding his fiddle with one arm, and gently tapping the bow against his leg with the other, bracing himself for the pull of the music that would inevitably flow through him the moment his bow hit the strings.

It was his magic, his connection to the world around him.

Music had shaped him, shaped the way he moved, lived and breathed ever since he was a wee bairn. Through the years he admitedly fumbled his way here and there in his best attempts to satisfy and heed the ever beckoning siren song. All it took was a little bit of courage and an insane amount of charismatic luck. And maybe, just maybe, a little bit of besotted longing for a girl he’d never know if he’d ever see again.

So with a deep breath, one held long enough to actually fill his lungs, Adrian placed his bow to the strings, took the chance and began to play.

"I’m in love with a fairytale, Even though it hurts…” His fingers flowed over the strings as the familiar song and its accompanying memories washed over him. Lit, with her ever-betwitching white hair and undeniable spark of defiant fire. Unwittingly teasing him, drawing him in with her obvious desire to avoid anything having to do with him.

“ 'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind I'm already cursed…”

And despite her constant refusal, in Adrien’s mind with his bow shaping the scene, all he could see was Lit with her fumbling steps and delightfully pink cheeks. His heart panged with fond amusement her frustration in doing her best not to look him in the eye as his hands had tugged hers close into a dance. Lit with her sharp bantering wit and keen eye, calling him out in ways that made him nervous and unusually excited for the challenge to draw out a smile, or even a blessed laugh from those ever frowning lips.

“I don't know what I was doing When suddenly, we fell apart…”

Adrien took in a shaky breath as his heart strings echoed those of his fiddle as he remembered Lit and her dauntless courage, her stark sense of justice even in the face of danger. His fingers trembling against the board with the ache of having only been brave enough to reach out to stroke her cheek just as she was leaving.

Looking every bit the ethereal embodiment of the magic in a song brought to life as she faded away into the dark amongst the smoldering embers. Leaving him, alone, in the smoke of city set ablaze in flames. Which seemed only fitting of her ever volatile nature after branding his heart hers, with that small, fleeting kiss to his cheek.

“Nowadays, I cannot find her, But when I do, we'll get a brand new start…"

So lost in the tale of his own weaving through the strings of his own song, Adrien barely noticed the ever-growing pile of coins being tossed into his cap until the sound of them spilling out from the lip onto the cobblestone awakened him from his reverie.

Adrien blinked for a moment, the moment of magic dispelling into the air as his bow slid across the neck for the final notes, a small almost bittersweet smile still resting on as his lips.

He dipped his head a couple times in grateful acknowledgement at the folks who had gathered around to hear him play, and in doing so, made the fateful choice of looking up over the pavillion and locking gazes with eyes so verdant, that Adrien felt his heart stutter to a stop.

No, no…those eyes…that shade of green reminiscent of long lost river stone…it couldn’t be…

An eerie sense of weightlessness washed over Adrien, his feet taking an instinctive stumbling step forward as if his very soul was being tugged towards what Adrian could only chalk up to a cruel, cruel trick of the light, the unfortunate combination of a bleeding heart and reminiscent mind as his gaze all but tunnel visioned to THE vision before him.

Lit, his Litriana, standing there wrapped in an all too familar black cloak that sharply contrasted the moonkissed hair that streaked behind her, as she began to run towards him.

Running. Heh. Towards him. Adrian let out a small disbelieving chuckle, his brow furrowing in confusion at the ludicrous thought. Now he knew he was dreaming. In no world, even in the ones he would fantasize about underneath the blanket of stars, would Lit ever-

The sudden force of her body colliding with his would say otherwise, as Adrian all but stumbled back against the cold stone of the fountain as the unbelievable weight of arms, Lit’s arms, wrapping around his neck.

The temperature difference was so stark, being stuck between stone and a literal hard pace, that Adrien’s only possible through was to freeze. His hand began to tremble as his fingers started to curl in a white knuckled fist over the neck of his fiddle.

Except… this wasn’t hard. It wasn’t cold either. The solid weight of Lit’s lithe body pressed up flush against Adrien’s chest, soft and unbelievably warm in such a way that is had his heart suddenly start drumming with the force and speed of an encoming army’s march.

Her very touch had somehow restrung the severed strands of his heart back into place instantly, and the melody of her embrace was the most tender song he had ever heard. The music, the dare he say magic of the moment made Adrien’s throat was thick with an unamable emotion that had him barely choking out the words,

“Oh…Sweet Seven,”

As the resounding clatter and clang of Adrien’s fiddle falling to the ground was Lit’s only warning before Adrien moved.

His arms immediately, desperately wrapped around Lit’s body in a fierce embrace, his once treasured fiddle instantly forgotten in the rush to hold her, to feel her, to once again know that he wasn’t dreaming and she was oh so very real.

His one arm slid protectively around the small of her back, clutching her tight against him as his other hand trembling slid into the soft tresses of her hair to cradle the back of her head.

“Lit, Sweet Lit, Love…”

Her arms tightened at the sound of her name on his lips, and Adrien’s voice all but cracked in relief with a small disbelieving laugh as he in turn, lowered his head to bury his face into her hair. She smelled…well…he really didn’t have a word for it, and Stars Above he would rather cut the strings of his bow than willingly admit he had unconsciously sniffed her hair.

And yet, the soft and subtle scent made him think of all the beautiful green things of the earth. The type of green that sometimes haunted him in the wee hours of the night with the memory of her eyes. The kind of green that symbolized something…alive.

Alive. His Lit. Alive and well and in his arms.

His body went taunt with tension as if the very thought of relaxing for even a moment would have him waking up empty handed with nothing but the mere wisp of her memory yet again. He didn’t care how ridiculous and besotted he looked at this moment, he clung to Lit with every fiber of his soul.

She was his verdant, his lighted song, and she was in his arms. She. Was in his arms.

Thank goodness that he was a musician and not a poet because the somewaht cocky and flippant words that escaped his lips there after would probably haunt him for the rest of his life.

“W-Well, now,” he murmured against the warm skin of her neck, his voice low and wavering with the smallest hint of emotion. “If I’d known this was the type of hello I’d get, I wouldn’t have taken so long to get here.”

...

All Original Characters belong to the absolutely beautiful mind and story TATUTB @secretthoughtsofashootingstar

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