Danica comparing herself to her big sister Aster and shaking her head, she will never be a great beauty like Aster.
Ava beside her ready to burst. No she was not Aster. She was Dan’ika. Whose curls looked lovely when the sun hit them, shimmering with golden brown against the black. How alluring she looked with her glasses perched on her nose as she read one of her novels. Ava held their tongue. How the past few summers they could not look away from Dan’ika as she stepped out of the waters of the ravine? As picturesque as those paintings of nymphs and deities of a far away time.
Danika was not Aster…
Danika was Danika. A beauty of her own. Ava brushed a stray curl from Danika’s face. Her red brown eyes staring up at him a galaxy inside them.
“You’re pretty.” The ballads and poems they could have said. All silenced….
She smiled. “You always say that.” And looked back down at her book. Just as always…