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The witch had disappeared behind that scarred boy, and he was glad that her attention had shifted away from him. He got all his usual customers and was packing up for the day, counting his coins when he saw them again. They came out from a small alley, first her, tall and dark gown flowing around her ankles, and then the boy, head down as he walked behind her, occasionally tripping and stumbling. Weird, he didn’t know they were together. The witch came over to Jake’s stand and he sighed, knowing it was asking too much for her to just leave him be.

“How did the selling go?” She stood across his stand as he packed up the rest of his things. Jake looked over and saw the boy scowling at the ground. He seemed to want to be anywhere but there. Odd, he looked fine earlier.

“Good.” He moved Chester to his front pocket and started walking away, but she kept pace with him, the other boy following a little behind.

“Do you know a good place to find exotic plants? I’m running low.” He kept his eyes ahead, weaving through the people.

“No. There isn’t much of anything exotic here.” He stopped at the baker’s stall and Remy smiled over at him, frowning when he saw the tired look on Jake’s face and the witch and boy behind him. He came over with a loaf of pumpkin bread and a kettle.

“You said yours was broken so I found a spare one in the back.” Remy held out the kettle and loaf to him.

“I can’t take this from you! What about your boss?”

“Eh, boss won’t mind. He never goes to the back anyways. And if he does notice it missing, I’ll say I borrowed it for my Nan. It’ll just come out of my next pay.” Remy shrugged.

“No, I can’t do that! I’m already causing enough trouble as it is accepting your free food, I can’t take a kettle too! And out of your pay, Remy? No, I can’t take it.”

“Jake c'mon, it’s just a kettle, I can afford it. If anything, it’s an early birthday gift. And don’t worry about the food, I always cook a few extra loaves of bread for you. Boss never notices.” Remy once again held out the things to him. Jake looked up at Remy.

“And I can’t pay you back?”

“I wouldn’t take the money even if you could afford it.” Jake thought for a moment.

“I can’t work it off, how much do I owe you?” Remy shook his head.

“Jake, my friend, you are not going to work for me. You’re a terrible cook. Besides, you owe me a couple hundred silvers and that would take months. Just accept the gifts.”

“I feel like you’re pitying me. I’m not a stray kitten that needs caring for, Remy.” Remy look down at him.

“I never said you were, I just want to help a friend. Now go, your entourage is waiting.” Remy lifted his head towards the witch and the strange boy behind her who was currently kicking a small rock. Jake turned around.

“I was hoping they’d leave.”

“Need me to take care of them? They bothering you?” Remy leaned forward on the counter.

“No, no,” Jake waved him off, “I can handle them. I’ll see you tomorrow Remy, evening.” Jake took the bread and kettle from Remy and dropped a few coins on the counter, walking away.

“Evenin’ Jake.” Remy watched as the witch kept pace with his friend, the other boy following behind, until they left the market. Then he pocketed the coins, making a note to return them to Jake tomorrow, and went to clean up shop.

Jake trudged up the hill pulling the cart with the kettle and his bread inside, as well as a few empty glass bottles from milk. Be always felt bad for asking people to bring their own glasses, but he couldn’t afford as many bottles as he had milk, and the only other option was to go digging through the dumpsters. The glasses clinked as he rolled over the uneven road and tried to ignore the witch looming beside him and her shadow.

“Do you need money? I can give you money.” She said out of nowhere, and he glanced up at her, shocked. He didn’t know she’d heard his conversation. She held out a large pouch to him, one he hadn’t seen earlier. “Two hundred gold pieces.” She shook the pouch.

“Uh no thank you, I’m okay. I don’t need any money.” He turned back to the road ahead, trying not to think of all the things he could buy with two hundred gold pieces. New boots, nicer clothes, he could repay Remy for the kettle and all the years he’d been feeding Jake, he could fix the hole in his roof, and he could buy all the pumpkin bread he could ever want.

“Are you sure? It really is no problem, and there is no catch.” She held out the bag to him again. Jake stopped walking and turned to her, angry.

“For the last time, no! I’m not taking your money, or anything else you may want to give me. I don’t need your charity! I’m doing just fine by myself thank you!” She looked shocked that he had shouted at her, and the boy behind her had pulled up short too, watching him from under the hood of his cape. Jake broke eye contact with him and kept walking, faster now. The sun was setting and he still needed to care for his animals. At the door of his house he turned to the boy behind the witch.

“Will you be here tomorrow?” The boy hesitated and looked up at the witch as if asking permission.

“I’ll bring him here in the morning.” The witch said, turning Jake’s gaze back to her. “And you tell me if he misbehaves. If he doesn’t work up to your standards let me know and I will… reprimand him. He needs to work well to pay you back of course.” She smiled down at Jake, and he frowned, following the witch’s look to the boy, who scowled and looked away. When he turned his head, Jake saw what looked like a handprint on his cheek, red, with scratches from rings. He glanced back up at the witch who was still smiling.

“Of course,” he said, giving her a forced smile and gritting his teeth. Without another word he walked into his house and slammed the door shut, leaning against the closed door. She had hit the boy hard enough to leave a mark and draw blood. He hated her. Jake let Chester out of his pocket and boiled some water for tea with his new kettle. He tore the bread into slices to ration for the next day or so and poured the hot water, taking out a square of tea and scraping a few shavings off into his cup. He grimaced at the almost flavorless water, and ate his bread in silence, thinking of the boy with the witch. He didn’t look like a witch, though with one eye clouded over, it could have been a second color before he went blind. And the scars. It looked like he was burned. Did the witch burn him? As a way of “reprimanding” him? The thought alone made Jake’s blood boil. If the witch had burned him, Jake would make her pay. It didn’t matter that the boy was a stranger, that just wasn’t right. 

Unless the boy deserved it. What could he have done to deserve such a terrible pain? Jake thought while he finished his tea and absentmindedly played with Chester. Maybe he would ask the boy tomorrow. And ask him why he stuck around such a witch. He washed his cup and did his nightly check on the animals. As he went to his makeshift bed, he wished the witch had never shown up. Just yesterday everything had been fine until she came along.

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A very quick sketch of a beautiful lady before going to bed. Just what I need after a hard day.

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Keşke tesadüfen biriyle tanışsak ve hayatımız değişse …. 🌼☘️



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People do not hurt us, our hopes from them hurt us!!!!!!!

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It was midday when the boy arrived. He was dressed in all black, quite similar to the witch still standing by him, except he was covered in dirt. The boy kept his head down, where it was covered by a hood, and grabbed a block of cheese.

“How much for this?” He asked, and his voice was warm as the springtime sun.

“Six copper coins.”

The boy huffed, pulling out a small sack of coins and counting them out. He only had four copper. Jake saw his hesitation when seeing he didn’t have enough money, and reached for his hands. The boy flinched when their skin touched, and Jake pulled his arm back, but started speaking.

“Well, that looks close to six coins to me. I’ll make you a deal. You give me these four coins, and I’ll give you the cheese. But tomorrow, you’ll come up to my farm on top of the hill and work in exchange for those extra two coins.” The boy looked down at Jake, his hooded face now visible to him. Jake kept his face still, but internally took in the boy’s face.

It was scarred, like the boy had been burned, and his right eye was a lighter gray than his left one. The scarring reached to the corner of his lip and stopped right at his eyebrow, then back under his hood into his hair. Dark, thick hair, sweeping across the boy’s forehead attractively. His skin was tan, like the boy wasn’t from here, but from the south, and looked soft to touch. Jake turned his eyes down before the boy saw anything, and held out his hand to shake. “Deal?”

“Deal.” The boy put his hand in Jake’s and shook once, and the boy’s touch sent a tingle through Jake’s arm.

Damien took the cheese and turned to go, meeting the witch’s eye as he did. In that second, he knew he’d been found out, but also that she wouldn’t say anything. It was a small pardon, and he was grateful for it, but then she started to follow him.

Damien tried to lose her in the crowd, but she managed to keep up. He could feel her energy right behind him. He turned toward the abandoned section of town, tore through tight alleyways even he could barely fit through, and ended up in the sewers.

“Stop.” It was sharp with magic and his feet froze in place. He almost fell over, but caught his balance. The witch snapped her fingers and the sewer brightened. She stepped around to face him, to look into his eyes. “What color was the other one?”

“Other what?” Damien didn’t know what she was asking.

“Your eye.”

He took a pause, remembering the burning on his skin. “Gold.”

The witch leaned back, looking at him curiously, and he squirmed under her stare.

“The boy. Jake. He’s curious, isn’t he?”

“What?” He tried to pull at the magic cementing his feet but her power was too strong.

“You know, the one with the rat and the cart of food. The one that offered you a job.”

“The one that looked uncomfortable when you kept following him? Yeah, what about him?”

“He has a strange aura, you don’t see many that bright nowadays. Practically pulled me in to his farm.”

“Yeah sure lady, it’s great. Can you let me go now? I’ve got somewhere to be.” She looked him over, and he grew more aware of his dirty clothes and face.

“No, I don’t think I will be letting you go. You see, there’s quite a rarity of young witches out here, and that makes you quite a catch. Plus, you now have a connection to that boy I want, so you are coming with me.” He looked up at her, shocked.

“What? You can’t just kidnap me! And what do you want with that boy?”

“Silence.” The word was laced with magic and he felt his throat close up. “What I want with him is none of your business, and I don’t see anyone coming to your rescue. So come now, don’t make a fuss.” She freed his legs and he immediately started running the other direction. He made it halfway to the other end of the sewer before something choked him. He fell and grabbed at his throat, feeling a magic chain there. He coughed and pulled at it, struggling to breathe, but it didn’t loosen. He tried a simple spell, one to send the witch away and free him, but the chain tightened and he couldn’t speak the words. As darkness crept into the edges of his vision, the chain loosened and the witch stood in front of him, frowning at the pathetic mess he was, laying in the sewer sludge. He sat and caught his breath, then was pulled to his feet by the chain. She grabbed his chin and wiped away some dirt with her thumb.

“I think we’re on our way to becoming fast friends.” He spit at her and she paused, still smiling, moving her hand to clean the spit off her face. Then she slapped him, hard. So hard he saw stars, her rings cutting into his skin. He reached a hand up to his cheek. “Do that again, little one, and you’ll be in even more pain.” She stood up to her full height and started back toward the market. “Now come.” The chain pulled him behind her, and he trudged at her heel like a dog.

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I have such amazing-dark wattpad story ideas (ones that I also tend to imagine before sleeping) but I won’t share them here cz then y'all will think I need therapy :/

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We often look for love in the wrong places, with the wrong people, and it later on ends up with them hurting us, or the other way around. At some point of our lives, we may have believed to have found the one for us,someone who would walk with us to the aisle, only to realize that they can only meet us halfway.

They’ll say the right words that you want to hear but saying something and actually committing to do it are two different things. Sometimes, people don’t actually mean what they say and you’ll later on find out the truth when it’s almost at the end. That’s the time when you say goodbye or just leave things be no matter how much damage has been caused to leave a permanent scar.

But how can you even call it love if it doesn’t last? Why is it so difficult to find someone who would always stay constant in this world full of uncertainties?

I’ve always wondered about that but then, love itself is a mystery. No one can really guess if the person you’re with today will be your last, or if the one you love loves you back.

But human as we are, we will always yearn to love and to be loved no matter how many times someone we love breaks our hearts. We may get tired and feel lost while searching, but when the right time comes, when we find that someone, I hope that it’ll all be worth the wait.

‘Why we don’t give up on love’

- NicK 22-Jan-2021 10:34 AM

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