hyacinth wolfsbane . d9 . fin

you had learned early on that life had many unspoken rules they don't teach about in school. always take your shoes off before you enter the house. say your blessings before you eat dinner. always wash your hands before you leave the greenhouse. when mail arrives at your house, nod and thank the mailman but never open the contents, it's better off if you don't know what lies inside. keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. never ask questions when your older brother comes home with blood-stained clothes, just smile and offer to run a bath for him. 

you also learned early on that most families weren't like yours, and that these rules need not apply to them. but you were a wolfsbane, and you were always taught that the less you knew, the better. but curiousity plagued your mind and the more you pretended not to see and hear, the more it intoxicated you. that was until your father sat you down and explained to you that she saw something in you that he didn't see in anyone else. that one day you would be a matriarch - the person who took his place as the head of the family. that you were a genius and a prodigy and everything in between.

but the thing about young prodigies is that they always grew up to be normal. you were determined not to let that happen. so you hold flower petals in between your fingers, feeling the soft texture underneath your fingerprints and you wonder how something so beautiful could be so deadly. 

and you wait for the day to come when you finally get to find out.