MOLTEN HEART
♱ A Mother's Warmth

               𝕭elieving in herself never carried Marigold far.

Marigold Fisher grew up under the shadow of doubt, convinced that no matter how hard she toiled, fate would never smile upon her. Her father dangled this mindset before her like an owner teasing a dog with a bone. It made her nauseous, realizing only in hindsight the complete depths of his manipulation and control.

Her father regarded her as nothing more than a prize to be won, a pawn in his games. He schooled her in the art of pleasing others, molding herself to fit in───even if it meant losing her true self. He taught her to prioritize others above herself, to bury her own desires and dreams. His lessons were insidious, slipping into her subconscious until she could no longer distinguish his voice from her thoughts.

Marigold learned to smile when she wanted to cry and to nod in agreement when she longed to rebel. She became adept at reading the expectations of others, shaping herself to fit their needs and whims. Her father applauded her ability to blend in, to be the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect friend. Yet, beneath the polished exterior, Marigold's spirit withered, starved of authenticity and self-worth.

She often felt like a marionette, her strings pulled by her father's whims and the world's demands. Her dreams were not her own but a reflection of what others desired for her. She excelled in her studies, not out of passion, but out of a desperate need for approval. She participated in activities she cared little for, just to earn a fleeting smile or a rare word of praise.

As she grew older, the weight of her father's expectations became more oppressive.

His manipulation, once subtle, now felt like chains binding her to a life she had never chosen. Marigold longed for freedom, for the chance to discover who she was beneath the layers of imposed identities. Yet, the path to self-discovery seemed fraught with peril, and the courage to break free eluded her.

In moments of solitude, Marigold would dream of a different life, one where she could chase her own passions and live according to her own values. She envisioned a world where her worth was not determined by her ability to please others but by her own intrinsic qualities. Yet, these dreams felt like fragile soap bubbles, beautiful but ephemeral, bursting at the slightest touch of reality.

But last night───oh, last night───everything changed for Marigold.

Years of pleading and hoping finally bore fruit as Belly Conklin's lips roamed hers, hands dancing upon her skin, their minds clouded with nothing but each other. It was a moment that felt both dreamlike and intensely real, a symphony of sensations that sang to her very soul.

Marigold couldn't stop thinking of the night before, the two of them together in the swimming pool, water shimmering around them like liquid stars. No matter how hard she tried, the memory refused to leave her mind───but perhaps, in truth, she wasn't trying that hard. For she wanted that night to be etched into her soul, a beautiful, indelible tattoo of a moment when all her dreams seemed to come true.

Every detail was vivid: the warmth of Belly's touch, the taste of her lips, the soft murmur of her breath. Marigold savored each second, replaying them in her mind like a cherished melody. She embraced the memory, let it envelop her, for in that night's embrace, she found a fragment of herself she never knew was missing.

The night air had been cool, wrapping around them as they floated in the pool, stars reflected in the water. Marigold remembered the way Belly's eyes sparkled, mirroring the constellations above, and the way her laughter rippled through the silence, a sound that felt like music to her ears. She remembered the sensation of Belly's fingers tracing patterns on her skin, sending shivers of delight down her spine. It was as if time itself had slowed, granting them a few precious moments of pure, unadulterated bliss.

As they moved closer, Marigold felt a surge of emotion she couldn't quite name, a blend of longing and joy, fear and hope. When their lips finally met, it was like a spark igniting a wildfire, consuming them both in a blaze of passion and tenderness. The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them, lost in each other.

"Mar? You in there?" Marigold's mother questioned softly, her voice a gentle murmur.

Marigold sighed, glancing up at her mother as she quickly pushed away her thoughts. Susannah sent a gentle smile toward her daughter, her eyes soft with concern, before turning her gaze back to the canvas before her.

"What are you thinking about, Goldilocks?" Susannah asked, her brow arching inquisitively.

"Nothing," Marigold muttered, shaking her head, trying to reign in the smile that threatened to break across her lips.

"Come on," Susannah chuckled softly. "I know you better than anyone. I can tell when something is on your mind."

Marigold's eyes flickered with a hint of mischief as she met her mother's gaze. The unspoken bond between them was palpable, a testament to the years of shared secrets and whispered dreams. She felt a warmth in her chest, a comfort that only her mother's presence could bring.

Sitting in the garden, adorned in a sundress her mother had specifically chosen, Marigold remained still as her mother painted her. She might have claimed she didn't want to sit for this portrait, but in truth, she hadn't spent much time with her mother this summer, and this was the perfect opportunity.

"Alright," Marigold began, her voice a soft whisper, "maybe there is something."

Susannah leaned in, her smile growing, encouraging her daughter to share. Marigold's heart swelled with gratitude for this moment, the simplicity of a mother-daughter exchange wrapped in love and understanding.

"Tell me, Goldilocks," Susannah urged gently, her eyes twinkling with curiosity and care. "What's got you so lost in thought?"

"I've... met someone," Marigold whispered, almost like a secret. Susannah furrowed her brows curiously. "They're amazing, Mom. Everything about them makes me feel warm inside, and it's like I can't get them out of my mind."

Susannah grinned, a twinkle of knowing or perhaps just motherly intuition lighting her eyes at this certain somebody.

Whether she knew who had captured her daughter's heart or not, it didn't matter in that moment. What mattered was the happiness radiating from Marigold, something Susannah had always wished for her little girl.

She saw the loving glint in Marigold's eyes as she spoke of this special someone, and it filled Susannah's heart with profound joy. The tender affection in Marigold's voice, the way her eyes sparkled───these were the signs of a heart touched by love. Susannah knew her daughter would be okay. Marigold was a strong, resilient girl, and seeing her so full of love and happiness reassured Susannah that she would thrive, no matter what life brought her way.

"Is it a girl then?" Susannah teased, her lips dancing with amusement.

Marigold's eyes widened in astonishment, her mouth forming silent shapes like startled butterflies. "How did you...? I... What?"

"Just as I said," Susannah chuckled, her smile a conspiratorial secret shared between them. "I know you better than anyone, my love."

At that moment, Marigold exhaled deeply, a rush of relief flooding through her. To have her own mother, the woman she had admired and leaned on for years, understand her so intuitively───it was a balm to her soul. After the emotional whirlwind of her father's reaction to the news, Susannah's playful teasing felt like a warm embrace, reassuring and comforting.

"Mama, have you ever been in love?" Marigold questioned softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Susannah paused, considering the weight of the question. "I'm not sure, Mari," she answered gently after a moment.

Marigold blinked slowly, observing her mother. Susannah smiled at the girl before returning back to her canvas as she continued. "I think I've loved deeply, like I love you, your brothers, Belly, Laurel. But to be in love? I'm not sure if I've ever truly felt that."

"I'm not sure what true love really feels like..." Marigold hesitated, her voice faltering as she trailed off. Her mother offered a comforting nod, urging her to continue. "But I think I might've finally found it. I think this is what true love feels like."

A lump formed in Susannah's throat, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, but she offered a warm, gentle smile for her daughter. "I'm so happy for you, Marigold. I never want you to forget just how proud of you, and happy I am for you."

"I understand, Mama," Marigold smiled softly, her own eyes shimmering with unshed tears like morning dew on petals. "I do."

Susannah felt a single tear escape, tracing a delicate path down her cheek before she swiftly brushed it away. She couldn't bear for Marigold to see her so vulnerable, not now, not while they were on the verge of capturing something timeless.

Susannah didn't want her girl crying in the last moments.

"No more tears, my dear! We can't have you ruining your makeup before we're through," Marigold's laughter tinkled like wind chimes in a gentle breeze at her mother's gentle admonishment.

With a delicate touch, she dabbed beneath her eyes, careful not to disturb the meticulous artistry that had consumed her for hours. She understood the importance of this portrait, sensing the weight of her mother's hopes resting upon it, and she wanted it to be flawless, a living masterpiece for Susannah's heart to treasure.

They both wished for everything to be perfect.

Author's Note ♱ hello, chapter fourteen! this chapter is a little shorter because i really wanted to add a mother/daughter scene before ... yk! truthfully, i'm so nervous to write her death because, as someone who's lost their mother at a young age, i know it's gonna be VERY difficult!

anyway, please comment and let me know your thoughts. hope you enjoyed 🫶