[He thinks back to the bright white girl who popped up in their lives like a very strange daisy. No, maybe not a daisy -- or a rose -- though perhaps Mary would like it to be a rose. He's sure he can find a rose story sometime.]
She was all white, from head to toe. Like a lily.
[It's somehow easier, when he's storytelling, to think of flowers and all he knows of them.]
She wasn't a human, like the boy who wasn't a death god. They were the same. So of course she wanted to be friends.
no subject
[He thinks back to the bright white girl who popped up in their lives like a very strange daisy. No, maybe not a daisy -- or a rose -- though perhaps Mary would like it to be a rose. He's sure he can find a rose story sometime.]
She was all white, from head to toe. Like a lily.
[It's somehow easier, when he's storytelling, to think of flowers and all he knows of them.]
She wasn't a human, like the boy who wasn't a death god. They were the same. So of course she wanted to be friends.