Uh, marketing forced me to make this. My name is Holland Hathaway, Chief Operations Officer, shareholder, and board member of the Aelin Conglomerate. Words to live by: the law of equivalent exchange. Status: Standard.
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
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New Beginnings
The box slipped suddenly within his grasp, but thanks to his fast reflexes he caught it before it fell. Despite the weather, his palms were moist enough to have people think he'd just left the sauna. He wiped each one on the leg of his dark slacks, interchanging the hold of the carefully wrapped, gold package. The intensity at which his heart was beating felt like what a hummingbird's wings looked as the floated in the sky. He paced back and forth within the confines of a room generous in natural light due in no small part to the tall windows that wrapped the quarter's like wallpaper. The vivacious garden for which the area was designed for did much to ease the tension that permeated deep into even his bones. That is, until the silky softness of the ribbon against his fingertips returned him to the present again.
Holland sat on one of ornate benches carefully affixed in place according to a specific designed layout, according to Diane. She said that if it was even a millimeter off, her mother would throw a fit and lecture the offender to no end. He stood again immediately, refusing to suffer that inequitable penance today of all days. He breathed in deeply to steady and steal himself. Breathed it out and repeated.
Who would have thought? Holland Hathaway, of all people, reduced to a bumbling mess of a fool. But any who witnessed those heartfelt smiles full of joy and immeasurable love would be changed irrevocably to the deepest depths of their soul. A small laugh escaped him at the thought. Just two years before he would never have imagined this to be what his future entailed. It was the outright opposite of the plan that had been laid out for him. The plan that he never questioned throughout his youth. But here he was, nineteen and doubtless, his conviction resolute as to the vision that he wanted hereafter to look like.
One final, long inhale as he fortified the ricketiest parts of his soul within the steadfast confines of his ribcage. With clenched hands and firmly planted feet, Holland knocked three times against the broad and bright door. He was sure that the heavy raps of his knuckles echoed gravely throughout the attached room, and so it would not be long before someone would be by to meet him. He only hoped that his message had come across and it was they whom he desired to meet the most.
Though it was merely seconds, the incessant speed of his heart seemed to slow the time around him to a crawl until the click of a disarming lock interrupted his thoughts. It was another couple of seconds until the door began to swing open, though at a painfully sluggish place. But once he caught sight of the body grappling with the swinging weight, even with assistance, the burden upon his complex emotions floated like a cloud being carried up to the heavens.
"Dada!" she said with high pitched excitement as she ran into his arms. He lifted her up into his arms, a pang hitting as he took in how differently she fit in his hold after just three months apart. The warm dress that she wore was not one that he had seen in her closet before he'd left. I'm just one season she had outgrown her old clothes. What else had he missed while he was away? The realization hurt and he peppered her with kisses as if to make up for all the time he could not be with her to which she laughed freely to.
"Where's Mommy?" he asked, when he noticed her lack of presence. Once she had settled from her fit of giggles, the child leaned into his chest and made a home there before looking back and pointing inside, past the open door. The overcast skies and a dimly lit interior lended to difficulty in discerning the state within. He didn't have to strain for long, however, as soon another person, an adult this time stepped out of the shadows. And upon sight of her, the thrashing of his heart from before held no candle to what he felt seeing his beloved Diane again in person after those three months.
"I wanted to give you two a moment first. She missed you so much. Kept asking if it was time to call you for the day." Her laugh was just the same as on the video calls, but hearing it in the same space gave him a different, happier feeling. Consumed by overwhelming emotion, he strode into her home, tot in tow, and kissed her for all those days he missed her. Well, what he could with their child's eyes glued on them. "I missed you, too," Diane said, as she held his face in her warm hands.
He smiled and wrapped them both in his arms. Just then the baby began to giggle and squirm, kicking her legs about and eventually, she landed an audible hit on the box in his coat. Everyone paused in unison and looked in the direction it seemed to originate from. The baby, intrigued, leaned over to reach for it, thinking it a toy. He figured the jig was up, but also lacked the confidence to be able to hold himself back until it could be deemed the perfect moment to present it.
So, he set his daughter down, and with a now free hand, reached into the pocket. The gold wrapping seemed to match the weight of true gold in his unease. Diane watched with curious interest which turned into flustered astonishment as he got down on one knee, and with a flick of the box, revealed a sparkling diamond housed within. Soon, her face matched the bright redness of her hair and she was at a complete loss for words. The little girl tugged at her mother's skirts, pointing at the precious stone. "Spahkle!"
Holland threw an adoring smile at his daughter and with surprising confidence declared, "Diane, would you do me the honor of being my wife?"
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Diane once made a wish when she was young that came true one day. The price for it, however, was paid much later, to the devastation of the children and husband she then had. So grieved was her husband, so badly did he wish for her return, that the gods took notice and pitied him. Though unable to manipulate death, they made him a different offer. They granted him an ability that was meant to benefit those dearest to him who remained. Others came to learn of his ability and sought him out. Those who desired his assistance grew in number, and as such, so did the toll it took on him. Thus, he hid himself away. Eventually, only those whose desires were so strong they could nearly manifest themselves could seek him out. And only if they could pay the price. What is one willing to give in exchange for a Tear of the Gods?
I lost my dream in this disaster.
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Holland awoke to a splitting headache. He rose from his bed, clutching the side of his head. It was day given by how strongly the sun shone through his windows and pierced his eyes. He squinted against it and pressed the heel of his palm tightly against the sockets, hoping it would provide some sort of relief. It did little to alleviate the discomfort. Each time, he'd say that it would be the last, but a few months later he'd be back at it again. The five empty bottles of various types of alcohol confirmed it.
Beside him, he felt the rustle of his silk sheets tug on his end. What could it be? He slept alone and not even the dogs were allowed in. Pushing through the throbbing ache, he opened his eyes again and peeked over. His heart dropped. There lay someone seemingly clothed only by his soft golden comforter, just as he realized he was. He inhaled deeply, his heart rate rising and his pain no longer seeming as important. He leaned over carefully. Her long, crimson hair spilled into the space between them like blood. He turned away.
His mouth was agape in utter disbelief. There was no way. A glance back showed she was still there. The rise and fall of her breaths confirming she was alive. But could there...? Could she...? With an anxious gulp, he turned his body back to face her and crawled slowly over. She didn't even stir as he neared. With a shaky breath and trembling hands, he ran his thumb along her cheek. It was warm and soft in the way he remembered. How her face fit in his hand so perfectly as he caressed it could meant it could be no one else.
"Diane?" A tear spilled from his eyes as he pushed some of her hair from her face. She was here! She was real! It couldn't be an illusion.
But it was. He blinked and suddenly everything was different. Fiery red transformed into sparkling silver. The eyes that fluttered open were an empty gray that he was painfully familiar with. His heart shattered, falling heavily in a million pieces. Again.
He should have known better. How many times had he hoped and been disappointed? It had been five years. He balled his fists so tight into the covers that the fabric began to tear. In a fit of contained rage, he gave a short jerk on the sheets and slammed his body back on the headboard. He brought his knees up and put his head between them, trying to even out his erratic breaths.
With all the movement, the body beside him finally began to wake. They turned to face him and offered a sweet smile, an adoring gaze. "Good morning," they said.
He raked a shaky hand through his hair, grounding himself through the physical senses. "What do you want, Diana?"
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The cheering of the rowdy crowd and the blinding flashing of cameras would usually be enough to a migraine his way, but today was unlike any other. All of the noise faded into the background until it was nothing more than harmless static, his attention solely directed at the only thing that deserved it. The entire night, his gaze was glued adoringly at her. Diane, in all her mesmerizing glory, graced the hall and its guests with her dazzling charm and wit. She would often twirl about in her white dress with a smile more radiant than the new moon at its brightest and a twinkling laugh that both brought him the greatest peace he had ever known and had his heart racing a mile a minute each moment they were together. Each time their eyes met, their souls spoke verses that could not be expressed with human words of which only they knew the meaning of. She cut through the throng of people, arm outstretching and reaching for him with the band on her finger sparkling brightly against the light of the venue, just as his did. Formerly, a trinket that he never thought he would wear. He stepped forward and took her hand in his fingers and intertwined them tightly around hers, and melting in the perfect sensation of it all. His remaining hand took her face in his, admiring the softness of her soul and the beauty of her being, taking it all in in hopes of committing it to memory though no amount of time would ever be enough. And then, he leaning in and sealed it all with a kiss, his own vow to her, to she who saved such a wretched man.
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