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Quiet footsteps walk across the ground as a figure slowly walks up beside her. The person only stops when he’s standing beside her, gloved hands clasped behind his back. Lesleigh spares him a glance behind the shadows of her mask, assessing the man as he stares straight ahead looking at something beyond him that Lesleigh can’t see. Her arms are crossed in front of her and she finally acknowledges him with a side glance.
“What do you want?” She asks, carefully enunciating her speech with the question.
For a long moment, the man doesn’t speak. He doesn’t tilt his head or turn to look at her before answering, “Just have one question for you.”
Lesleigh sighs, her fingers digging into the crook of her arm. She’d know for a while that he’d eventually come to ask her a question, it was a repeated pattern of his. He was prone to popping up behind someone, movements silent before he mentioned something about them that was supposed to be buried knowledge. Even so, she knew barely anything about him, at most an estimate of his true age, but other than that, she didn’t even know his gender.
“What is it?” She finally asks, making herself ask the question despite the desire to not do so.
“You’re her sister right?” The man asks, a statement rather than a question. Lesleigh thinks for a moment, trying to recall who the man could specifically be talking about. It could be either biological or platonical, she wasn’t sure of what he meant.
“Who do you refer to?”
“Roxanne.”
She blinks once then a second time.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re Roxanne’s sister.” The man repeats. That much had been obvious, though she hadn’t expected he’d dig up something from thousands of years ago. Lesleigh couldn’t imagine any place that would have a history that deep and detailed to retain that information for the public eye to see.
She nods her head, “Yes, but how’d you know?”
“You both have the same hair color. I made a guess.” Lesleigh looks at him, adjusting her mask just enough so it sat in place, “It’s simply the way I guessed your husband’s hair color.”
Lesleigh right at that moment was about to speak but then her voice cracked and she disguised it with a cough, “...You knew about that?’ There were things that this man had known about other deities, he had a habit of successfully digging up their backstory that no one else ever could, but her husband had never given a hint about his hair color being dyed. If she was being honest, she thought it was natural before marrying him.
The man scoffs, making a noise as though she were idiotic, “If you know genetics, you know that aquamarine is not a natural hair color.”
“Sephrine and Spectra both have natural white hair, use common sense.” Lesleigh retorts, now it was more obvious considering her husband’s parents, but even so, aquamarine was definitely a possibility. If Nikolai and Romeo both had shades of dark red hair, then it wouldn’t be that much of a surprise if the rainbow was a possibility.
“Black and brown hair cannot genetically cause aquamarine hair Lesleigh.” Hearing this, she has to remind herself that she was talking to someone that was not an adult, but rather a child who was probably thirteen. Even if she was annoyed, she had to keep herself calm.
“With that logic, explain how Noa has red and blue hair?”
“Then it comes from other relatives.”
Lesleigh stares at the man. In all this time, he hadn’t even looked her in the face and yet here he was, saying complete stupidity. With his logic, somehow aquamarine couldn’t be natural, but multi-colored hair that wasn’t natural was?
“So what’s his hair color then?”
The man doesn’t answer for a long moment, then he finally speaks and says a color.
“You’re sure about that?” She questions.
“Yes.”
“So why did you want me to know that you have this information?” The man thinks for a moment, one hand moving from his back to resting on his chin. As she waits, her focus becomes on her breathing then suddenly the man’s form flickers. Right before her, the man’s form swirls and shifts before suddenly becoming the shape of a young girl no older than sixteen.
The girl spins around in place, a black dress swirling around her body. She smiles at Lesleigh, a look of childlike innocence on her face and blonde hair curling around her in waves.
“I’m bored.” She huffs, her hands resting on her hips. She looks at Lesleigh, her eyes sparkling in all shades of the rainbow, “...so, I’m leaving! Bye!”
She gives Lesleigh an enthusiastic wave with both hands before quickly running off, leaving much faster than it had taken her to arrive. Lesleigh watches the figure leave, the girl’s movements bouncing as she runs off out of sight. An utter sense of confusion floods her once the figure becomes a pinpoint.
Lesleigh rests her palm on top of the mask, slowly lifting it from her face, letting a small bead of sweat roll free from her face. She hadn’t been sure on what to expect from this kid who ran loose like a wild puppy when let free in the garden, but the personality change would give her whiplash. She moves the mask back to her face, wondering if she should be concerned.
She sets one hand on the side of her temple, “Blaise? Are you free?”
There’s a thin crackle and she hears a man’s voice, “What?”
“Are you free?” Lesleigh repeats.
There’s a pause then he answers, “Yes, what is it?”
“I think the kid, Noa’s…partner, knows your natural hair color.”
“So? Why’s it matter?”
Lesleigh has to pause from talking for a moment, she really didn’t want to remind her husband about that period of time where he was obsessed with keeping his siblings from figuring out the natural color. Very obsessive. She remembered one time where Cecelia had thought it quite entertaining to tell her about one specific incident where Lyu had been quite determined to catch him and force him to reveal it.
Had he matured over that particular topic?
“She also knows about Roxanne.”
Three seconds tick by and then, “Who?”
“Blaise.” Lesleigh scolds, “How did you forget about my sister?”
When he doesn’t respond for another moment, Lesleigh continues, “Blaise, you better not cut this off just because you can’t remember basic information.” She waits for a little longer, suddenly getting the bad feeling that he had done exactly what she told him not to do, “Blaise?”
“I didn’t.”
“You just—” Lesleigh sighs, “You just said, “who” when I mentioned her, don’t pretend you know who I’m talking about now.”
“Sorry?” At that, Lesleigh feels her eye twitch. Her husband acted more like a child than her actual children and it was supposed to be the opposite, not whatever this was.
“I swear, you better have an explanation for not remembering basic details. I’ll meet with Livvy and talk to her but you and I are meeting later and talking.” With that, she took her hand off her temple and closed her eyes momentarily. This entire thing was ironic, why was she even going to talk to a thirteen year old about issues she had with a thirteen year old as an adult?
This was so messed up.