EZEKIEL
It's the first time. The first time I've felt something close to freedom in a very long while. The first time I've taken real pleasure in something as mundane as flashing lights and greasy food. When Daphne said she wanted to be herself, just Daphne, not the witch princess, and asked me to be the same, I thought it was childish. Pretending we weren't who we are never seemed like an option to me. I agreed only to keep the peace, to avoid the weight of another argument.
But then she smiled. Not the nervous, clipped curve of her lips I've grown used to since the wedding. Not the stiff, diplomatic smile she wears in public. It was something real, unguarded and bright as she talked about the food she missed, the places she used to go, the stupid things she used to do. There was a spar
