Page 43
Story: Till Death and Daisies Bloom
"You alright, dear?" the honey vendor asked, concern creasing her weathered face.
"Fine," I managed, selecting a jar with trembling hands. "Just...low blood sugar."
As I wandered between stalls, trying to regain my composure, a flash of color caught my eye –not physical color, but the now-familiar shimmer of an aura. I turned to see a young girl, maybe six or seven, laughing as her father lifted her to smell flowers at a nearby stand. Around her, a brilliant yellow radiated outward, pure and vibrant with uncomplicated joy.
I stood transfixed, watching the golden light pulse and dance. My fingers tingled with an urge to reach out, to somehow capture that beautiful energy. The girl's laughter rang out again, and the aura flared brighter, like sunshine breaking through clouds.
Lost in the sight, I nearly bumped into a small cart displaying antique glassware. I steadied myself, then gasped softly as my eyes fell on a collection of old apothecary bottles–amber, cobalt, and clear glass vessels of various sizes, their surfaces etched with faded labels and mysterious symbols.
"Beautiful, aren't they?" A woman with silver-streaked hair and multiple shawls draped around her shoulders appeared beside the cart. "Each one has its own history."
I picked up a small cobalt bottle, admiring the way light passed through the glass. "They're lovely. Were they used for medicines?"
"Among other things." She smiled enigmatically. "Just local folklore." She waved dismissively. "Though they do say certain energies can be preserved in the right vessels. Something about the glass composition."
My gaze drifted back to the laughing child, her golden aura still radiating outward.
"I'll take them," I said suddenly. "All of them." There were seventeen bottles in total, each uniquely shaped and colored.
The woman's eyebrows rose in surprise, but she named a reasonable price and carefully wrapped each bottle in tissue paper before placing them in a box.
As she handed me the package, her fingers brushed mine. "Use them well, dear."
Before I could ask what she meant, she had turned to another customer, leaving me with my mysterious purchase and a head full of questions.
I found myself drifting back toward the flower stand where the little girl and her father were still browsing. On impulse, I uncorked the small cobalt bottle and held it loosely at my side, focusing on the golden aura surrounding the child. Could I really...?
I concentrated, imagining drawing a thin stream of that joyous energy toward the bottle. To my astonishment, a wisp of golden light separated from the child's aura, so faint I might have imagined it. It curled through the air like honey dripping from a spoon, and when it touched the mouth of the bottle, it flowed inside as if drawn by gravity.
The bottle grew warm in my hand, and inside, a faint golden glow pulsed gently. I corked it quickly, heart racing. I glanced at the girl, worried I might have somehow diminished her happiness, but she continued laughing, her aura as bright as before. I'd taken only the smallest fragment, like skimming cream from the top of milk.
Emotional alchemy. The phrase popped into my mind fully formed, fitting perfectly around this strange new ability. Not just seeing emotions, but harvesting them, perhaps even transforming them. The possibilities made me dizzy.
I tucked the glowing bottle gently into the box alongside the others. What could I do with captured joy? How might it interact with food, with plants, with other emotions?
I was so absorbed in these thoughts that I didn't notice how my grocery bags had multiplied until I was struggling to arrange them all for the walk home. The apothecary bottles, though small, added awkward weight and required careful handling.
“You handled that well.”
I nearly dropped everything as I spun around to find Envy watching me with undisguised amusement. He looked different in daylight—more approachable somehow, though no less dangerous. His dark jeans and leather jacket gave him a casual air, but the way he carried himself–alert, fluid, predatory–reminded me of what he truly was. Had he been around this whole time?
“Yes, I was watching. It’s easier to let him think he’s rattling you, and let him get his guard down. I was with you the entire time,” he assured me.
I blinked. That was so...kind.
"Need a hand with those?" he asked, gesturing to my bags.
"I'm fine," I said automatically, even as a bag slipped from my grasp. He caught it with inhuman speed, raising an eyebrow.
"Clearly." He took two more bags from me before I could protest. "Allow me to assist. My brother would be very displeased if his star matchmaker injured herself carrying groceries."
I hesitated, memories of the mixer flashing through my mind: Envy dragging Xavier away, that predatory smile blinding as he'd threatened the werewolf. But he'd also helped protectme, had stood beside Lust and Diana as they'd offered their strange, supernatural protection.
"Thank you," I relented, adjusting my remaining bags. "I may have been a bit overenthusiastic with my first paycheck."
Envy fell into step beside me, his stride effortlessly matching mine as we headed toward the cottage. "First paychecks should be celebrated. Though most people buy shoes or jewelry, not..." He peered into one of the bags. "Figs and bottles? Is that what's wrapped in paper?"
I felt heat rise to my cheeks. "I'm making a special dinner. The bottles are for...an experiment."
Table of Contents
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