the fabric of time, ten/rose, pg
It was a fairly involved tradition that he just happened to know both the commonly believed history of as well as the true history of but when he sidled up next to Rose with a grin and said, “Want to know why they do this?” she clapped a hand over his mouth without looking away and replied, “Shhhh, somethings don’
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Lovely.
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It made time feel weightless, disbanded by a laugh because it couldn’t all be explained straightaway or even very much at all.
Rose looked into absurdity and saw beauty. Into the awful chasm of time and saw love. Or saw him. Or reached for him. Whichever it was didn’t matter. He wanted to make her a dress out of stars. Out of roses. Out of time itself if he could.
I really liked how you used the dresses in all the different ways he was thinking of her and everything he wished he could do for her.
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