Escrita por: ~SirWhale
Never before had Emman expirienced the heavy thud in his chest jolting through his body. Perhaps this was what knowing the person you're guarding felt like. No matter where his mind wandered he always found it locking back onto Joyful and what he could do to help her next. Probably because he spent all of his time tailing the small girl.
As he stalked her throughout his day, his questions and curiosity grew. Where did she live that she was forced to beg at the feet of others? How did her brown eyes come to get such purple bags under them? Was the child hers?
Strangely, he hoped the child was not hers. Hoping that she never had to go through the infamous pain of having a child. The actual birth, and the process of creating and carrying the child. At the sudden turn of the girl, Emman snapped to attention. Lately the girl had been weaving her way down streets. Now a sudden turn had taken them into a rich neighborhood. A very rich neighborhood.
A house at the end of the street seemed to be the center of her attention. Although the girl walked with familiarty, her eyes darted around anxiously. Emman's curiosity heightened as he followed her passed the coded gates of the house. Silently Joyful moved along the side of the house, a small garage in sight.
Soon the girl and baby made it into the small garage, and closed the door behind them. Once again a light blinded Emman after the darkness of night. Something he would need to grow used to.
A sharp shudder in the wall startled Emman. Another girl seemed to have materialized out of the shadows. Her eyes wide and questioning.
"You're shift is almost here! Give me Manny and I will take care of him." A sweet hispanic accent tainted the young woman's voice. Only a nod was offered in return from joyful, as she handed the child over, and as quickly as she had returned to the garage, left.
A frown etched onto his lips, Emman tailed her with even more worry. So far she had worked none stop for the day. Now she was once again on the move. This time she marched into the house, leading Emman through corridors. At a time Emman woshed for he to know his presence, yet he snuffed the thought quickly. It was benine to reveal yourself to a person. Expecially in a fragile situation like this.
Soon they had found themselves in a busy kitchen. At least five other women busy at work cooking and baking. A tall round woman lead the bunch, hissing orders.
"The celebration is tomorrow! We have had a week now finish within the next two hours! Ah there you are. Help Wynn with the frosting." The woman directed Joyful. The way she spoke to the girls sparked a small flame of anger in Emman. Yet he also heard the love behind the harsh words.
Like a sheep, Joyful obeyed. Finding herself mixing sugar and cream alongside a girl with fair hair. Emman bit his lip. He had learned what to do when he was very young. Lending his strength is what his father had called it.
'Hold your hands over their head.' His fathers voice ran through his head. 'And imagine doing the same action they are doing. Then breathe.' Emman drew in a deep breath and placed his hands over Joyfuls hair.
It might have been his imagination, but Emman swore he saw her stir faster after his exercise.