The steady yet hazardous way of the fire cracking with the logs of wood melting down slowly kept Aella enchanted as she stared with awe.
Her pacific orbs had glowing embers shining in them as she gazed intently, so much that her head fell into a trance of thought.
Sitting by the fireplace reminded her of a memory that she always held dear to her heart.
The ones when her father used to tell her mesmerising storylines kept her captivated throughout the narration.
It was their moment of bonding, the special time they had to disconnect from the world and simply live in theirs. It was their little haven.
When she was younger, she would sit on her father's lap as he told both Aurelia and her stories of his youth or any other one that interested them.
Her younger sister would fall asleep even before she heard half of the tale but Aella would be awake, listening readily to her father until he got to the end of the story.
