fic: crown
word: crown
rated: g
characters: Rhett, Scout and Misha.
--
word: crown
"I'm not wearing that," Rhett says, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the tree. The wind moves across the yard and blows his hair off his forehead and out of his eyes. Ingrid has been pleading him for weeks to finally cut it, but he refuses. The iron will of a twelve-year-old is hard to best.
The sun is starting to set, making their little world a hue of purples and hot reds and pinks, a dash of neon orange.
"Please?" Misha says, inching closer to him, presenting him with the crown of flowers she spent the better part of an hour making. Threaded purple clovers and white daises that grow by the pond. The summer sun has turned her all-ready tanned skin a beautiful honey-gold, and her brown hair the color of brown sugar. She smiles and takes another step, she's only six.
Rhett wears a fine shine of pink over his shoulders and across his nose; a thousand freckles have appeared on his skin.
"Don't be mean," Scout finishes. She sits on the ground picking blades of grass, shifting through trying to find a four-leaf clover. She's just as pink as Rhett, across the back of her neck and arms. Her red hair is pinned up, though most of it in the front has fallen, and she spends most of the day pushing back the strands. "She worked hard on it." Scout is nine.
He rolls his eyes and pushes off the tree, bark scrapes off with his shoe. He towers over Misha, having hit his first growth spurt in the spring. His long legs, his lanky arms and torso. But she just smiles up at him, like he's the brightest star in the sky and thrusts her arms towards his face. "Just for a little bit," she says with the same smile.
Geese fly over head towards the pond, landing with soft splashes. The wind picks up again, a little rougher this time, rattling the chines hanging all along the porch. Scout, Ingrid and Misha had been making them almost non-stop since the flowers bloomed. Rhett's gaze goes from the house, to his sister then his cousin, who's starting to wiggle, her bare toes digging into the softness of the ground.
"Fine," he huffs and rolls his eyes. Misha squeals as he kneels and places the crown on his head. She brushes the hair off his forehead like she's seen Ingrid and her mother do a thousand times over the summer. When it's properly placed and he stands back up, she claps her hand wildly. "How's it look?"
"Awesome!" she squees. "Come on, let's show Mommy and Auntie Ingrid." She snatches his hand.
"Oh no, no you didn't say anyone had to see me."
"Well what's the point in being pretty if no one is going to see you silly?" she tugs harder, stronger than he expects from a little girl.
Scout starts laughing, almost rolling on her side, her hands stained green from the grass. Rhett glares at his sister as Misha tugs harder, almost making him fall over. "You're next, Cricket," he says.
"Oooh I'm so scared," she mocks.
"Come on," Misha demands.
"Fine. I'm coming." Though he agrees, she doesn't let go of his hand. Scout pops up to follow, still laughing.
.end
rated: g
characters: Rhett, Scout and Misha.
--
word: crown
"I'm not wearing that," Rhett says, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the tree. The wind moves across the yard and blows his hair off his forehead and out of his eyes. Ingrid has been pleading him for weeks to finally cut it, but he refuses. The iron will of a twelve-year-old is hard to best.
The sun is starting to set, making their little world a hue of purples and hot reds and pinks, a dash of neon orange.
"Please?" Misha says, inching closer to him, presenting him with the crown of flowers she spent the better part of an hour making. Threaded purple clovers and white daises that grow by the pond. The summer sun has turned her all-ready tanned skin a beautiful honey-gold, and her brown hair the color of brown sugar. She smiles and takes another step, she's only six.
Rhett wears a fine shine of pink over his shoulders and across his nose; a thousand freckles have appeared on his skin.
"Don't be mean," Scout finishes. She sits on the ground picking blades of grass, shifting through trying to find a four-leaf clover. She's just as pink as Rhett, across the back of her neck and arms. Her red hair is pinned up, though most of it in the front has fallen, and she spends most of the day pushing back the strands. "She worked hard on it." Scout is nine.
He rolls his eyes and pushes off the tree, bark scrapes off with his shoe. He towers over Misha, having hit his first growth spurt in the spring. His long legs, his lanky arms and torso. But she just smiles up at him, like he's the brightest star in the sky and thrusts her arms towards his face. "Just for a little bit," she says with the same smile.
Geese fly over head towards the pond, landing with soft splashes. The wind picks up again, a little rougher this time, rattling the chines hanging all along the porch. Scout, Ingrid and Misha had been making them almost non-stop since the flowers bloomed. Rhett's gaze goes from the house, to his sister then his cousin, who's starting to wiggle, her bare toes digging into the softness of the ground.
"Fine," he huffs and rolls his eyes. Misha squeals as he kneels and places the crown on his head. She brushes the hair off his forehead like she's seen Ingrid and her mother do a thousand times over the summer. When it's properly placed and he stands back up, she claps her hand wildly. "How's it look?"
"Awesome!" she squees. "Come on, let's show Mommy and Auntie Ingrid." She snatches his hand.
"Oh no, no you didn't say anyone had to see me."
"Well what's the point in being pretty if no one is going to see you silly?" she tugs harder, stronger than he expects from a little girl.
Scout starts laughing, almost rolling on her side, her hands stained green from the grass. Rhett glares at his sister as Misha tugs harder, almost making him fall over. "You're next, Cricket," he says.
"Oooh I'm so scared," she mocks.
"Come on," Misha demands.
"Fine. I'm coming." Though he agrees, she doesn't let go of his hand. Scout pops up to follow, still laughing.
.end