#why can my aunt be a cashier? why was my grandma allowed to be a factory worker?

[light-wrath-paradise]

Honest to god might go nuclear and just drop out of university.

Like fuck that noise I tried it didn't work out now it's time for plan "I get to live my life."

[bbnibini]

PSISLY: An Obey Me!CYOA – sixty-eight🔖

Every family has one or two secrets they keep, don’t they? It can be something shocking like being descendants of royalty, to something intriguing like hiding treasures of endless wealth in some marked location. Our family wasn’t any different. Apparently, according to our elderly relatives, we descended from fallen angels. It all started when a beautiful angel named Lilith fell in love with our ancestor. Their love had been realised after Lilith’s brother sacrificed himself to make Lilith human, so that she can live her life happily with the man she loves. But that didn’t stop there. Many years later, a descendant hailing from our family was spirited away in the demon realm and fell in love with a demon themself. According to my grandmother, that demon was none other than the brother who sacrificed himself for his sister.

They loved each other very much. I still hear stories about them during camping trips and family reunions. In fact, one of the most popular superstitions about them is apparently true. Whether or not there’s validity in their hearsay however, I’m not really sure. I certainly don’t feel like a fallen angel nor a demon. It would have been great if I inherited some of my Grand Uncle’s magical abilities---anyway, I feel like I’m derailing from the point.

The sceptical in me just wanted to know if the rumours were really true. Apparently, every wedding anniversary of theirs, Grand Uncle always comes and leaves a single flower on their grave. Some paintings of Grand Uncle exist in the ancestral house—he was dazzlingly handsome with golden hair and emerald eyes, and is often depicted either holding a book or a cat in his portraits. He never aged and never changed in appearance. I think I saw a blurry photograph of him last family reunion but I didn’t really believe it—it was taken by one of my more superstitious aunts and I can hardly consider themselves credible.

That was why I decided to investigate it myself. It’s a lovely spring day and I have plenty of time, so what can possibly go wrong?

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I know I shouldn’t say that, but it really did seem like this day is agreeing with me. Granted, I apparently missed the bus to get to the cemetery because it only operates on the weekdays, which I found weird because I was certain my stupid old wristwatch indicated it was Monday today. Not everything turned out bad though. I was able to buy carnations at a really cheap price even when it’s already past Mother’s Day. I asked the cashier how they had so many flowers left in stock if they had such a sale on the day itself but I seemed to have gotten the cold shoulder. Did I ask something offensive? I was genuinely curious because they sold such beautiful flowers at such a cheap price. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.

“ XXX Station. XXX Station.”

Thankfully, there are other alternatives to get to the cemetery like the subway. I offered a pregnant lady my seat and she smiled and thanked me.

“My husband bought me a similar bouquet today,” she told me. “Are you going to give them to your mother too?”

“My Grand Uncle’s spouse.” I corrected. “It’s their wedding anniversary today.”

“Oh my, how romantic!” She said she was hormonal because of her pregnancy so any sweet or tearjerking stories can make her cry immediately. I was reluctant to part with my favourite handkerchief, but I thought she needed it more than me. I left the station with complicated feelings.

The pathway to my relative’s cemetery was in cobblestones instead of the usual concrete. It almost felt like I was stepping into a different realm. Perhaps the atmosphere of this place is the reason for the fallen angel rumours? I don’t know. But I certainly feel like I’m not on Earth anymore. It was rustic. Charming in a medieval kind of way. Even the names on the epitaphs were barely readable, like they were from an ancient language. I didn’t linger for too long though as I had other things to do.

“A gazebo with a garden of flowers…ah, here it is!” For someone who died for almost a hundred years ago, my relative’s grave was well-maintained. They didn’t look like they aged a day in their photograph, nor were there any discoloration or dilapidation in their gravestone. It was as if their resting place was protected by magic.

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Ha! I'm starting to become quite superstitious myself! This is ridiculous. 

After lighting up an incense and placing the carnations on their grave, I looked at my wristwatch for the time: 11:11 military, or the wishing hour as I’d like to call it (my puns are great, okay). If my aunts and grandmas were right, my Grand Uncle should be showing up any minute now.

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!!!

My eyes locked with someone…huh?!

“Pardon the intrusion.”

There was no blond hair nor emerald eyes. Certainly, he looked young and handsome in a timeless way, but his eyes are—

“Gold and silver…”

His smile was warm and gentle; as if he recognised me even if I never  met him before. “Ah, are you a relative? I can see the resemblance.”

“Grand Uncle?!?”

He looked rather…sad as he answered. “No... Am I bothering you?” I immediately shook my head and answered him with a question of my own. 

“Are you here to see them?”

“Mhm, if you may allow me?"

Nodding, he held the expensive looking bouquet in his arms and bent down. Who was this man? He certainly wasn’t Grand Uncle. But…even so…why does it feel…

“Can I place it here?”

“Y-yeah…”

The man smiled as he thanked me, gently placing the pink carnations down to their grave. He didn’t speak at all but, the way he looked at my relative’s picture was…strange. He seemed really lonely and vulnerable that I felt like I shouldn’t be looking at all. I made an excuse that I wanted to take a stroll and left him alone. 

“You lived a happy life, didn’t you?”

I thought I heard him say as I left, which made me pause. They died a long time ago. How did this man know my relative lived a happy life when he looked so young? Was he a fallen angel like Grand Uncle?

I wanted to ask him once I walked back, but when I returned from my stroll, he was already gone.

I didn’t know why, but his absence made my heart ache. It was as if I lost an important person. Was I swayed because of his good looks? Or did I long for someone to gaze at me with as much passion and longing as he did to them? Years have passed since then and I’m starting to forget what he looked like. It was ironic that now that I am the same age as my grandmother, I had finally began to understand her fascination with our family superstitions. But instead of the usual tale of my Grand Uncle and his devotion to our relative, I am now telling my own story—a tragic love of the lonely looking man with gold and silver eyes.

[EPILOGUE END]

💌 tag request: @krussyfed, @lilliansstuff , @cupsof-tea