and all i ever wanted was sunlight // avalon

Sh

She has watched them from a distance as they make their way back and forth between their home and wherever their feet may take them, each step a pulse in her ears.

She has watched them up close as faces in a crowd, photographs in her fingertips come to life and wondering why they had not wanted to join the faces on the mantle above her fireplace.

She has watched them grow, and watched them smile, and watched as they turned to look for the eyes upon the backs of their necks, pulled her own line of vision away and saved their faces for another day.

From names on lips to paper files and words in torchlight, Saffron watched them turn from a whisper to tangible pieces of her unknown. Money in Peacekeeper hands, palms snatching up her prize of their existence, and so they became her days, her weeks, her hours and seconds. 

Chrysalis, Myara, Clementa, Kiara. They were hers, hers, hers. 

Or she would be theirs, feeling all of them fill her to the brim and burst from her thoughts and dance across her dreams and laugh as they took over every part of her. Obsession wrapped around her limbs and heart and spilling into the air - and she let it, finding their home, finding them. Consumed with the very idea of them and her and us.

A ghost, a portrait in the living room, a dead man. Walking, talking, loving -- impossible. August Lowe, a memory born again in her sunlit eyes. And yet-

Not.

"Dad" she would breathe. And yet-

Not.

Myara dances, all legs and skin and hair like sunlight. The photograph underneath Saffron's bed becomes obsolete, for who needs a still image of a little girl when she sails right past you, older and taller and

Mine.

A hand catches at her skin, blood, bones. Myara is caught in the Victor's crossfire, the world somehow still around them in all it's chaos. Corporeal, impossible.

Saffron breathes,

I am me, and you are a part of me, and I am sorry.

and speaks.

"You're..."

You're mine.

"I think you're my family."