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predictable-affairs · 3 years

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III ✯A waltz that goes - one, two, three, four...✯

There was no fire, no chaos, no fools, just an empty piano room.

How quiet it was, like an other wordly dimension, as if the world before christmas. Absolute stilness, calmness, as if piercing right into the gaze of Narccissuss pond water, and right in the midst of it, drowing in the beautiful tides of silence, lay Laito.

As the suns bright beams shone through the lazily closed curtains, you could tell that he must of been asleep long ago... It's the middle of the day and he wasn't asleep, tired - maybe, but asleep - not at all.

Whilst sitting in the room, pretending as if it was the middle of a stary night, not the middle of day, a small tune of a waltz expresses itself through his fingers. As he pressed each key with care (or what he difined as care), as if a puzzle, combining a beautiful silhuette of music, he pretends that he was the one trying to lull his notes to sleep, diving into the fantasy that he loved the music as much as he hated his father.

Such a beautiful illusion he was under, spinning as a swan in its lake, not noticing another feather creeping onto its dance water...

Curious dust, spying through a crack in the door, as if magic (or maybe something more?), a soft dissapointment, sticking like gum, overtook his senses.

Fingers steading themseleves, landing on each and every nearest key, creating a truly ugly sounds, one (daring to?) rival even the history of this mansion.

A sigh, a singular small sigh, disturbing the stillness of the calm pond.

"I know you're there, you can come out now."

Is that sadness or dissapointment laced in the thread of those words? A shuffle and the dust gathering above the shadows moved, revealing the prepostorous impostor.

"Aah, our little doll~"

A fake hapiness overtakes the notes of his voice, yet the threads are everyday, simple ones, so it doesn't vow to raise suspicion. Only a truly close one can sense the diffrence in its cotton (rotten) wool.

"Mm, Laito...?"

An unfinished question hangs in the air. So many possible endings... Yet, does he truly know the esence of the question?

He does; but silence! Nothing is being said.

He pretends.

"Mmh, why don't you come here, by the piano, we can play a lovely little tune together~"

He will not anwser; will you play along?

A little shuffle of bare feet and the dark piano seems bigger than when it was from the door. More intimidating too...

"Hmm, sit."

He moves a bit with a smile, one hand patting the unworn leather of the chair, eyes gleeming with mischief. Oh, the fire in them is so bright! As if alight just recently, woken up from it's dark dreaming slumber.

Ah, the more you look into those eyes, the more you realise that... the fire is fake. It's not the hot dance of flames for life or excitment, not even hapiness, sadness or revenge. It's fake, it's dark, but it's not cheap. This fire is much more dangerous, much more darker, larger; even though it's fake, be careful! You can still get burned...

The leather of the chair feels soft, it's not cold either, warmed up by someone else...

As you sit, the red headed boy can't take his eyes off you.

Not giving even a second to cool down from the intense heat from his eyes. Your sleep shirt rides up just a bit as you get more comfortably settled in the chair. It doesn't go unnoticed.

His eyes, oh! His never ending eyes wander just a bit too low, just a bit to the new plot of nudity. All the way from the heels to the hips; the bare legs and open skin gets him a little excited. It's as if the prudness and innocence of it all is more exciting than you actually being nude.

Oh, how he'd love to imagine you nude. Absolutely bare and naked, giving it all to him. He is imagining you naked. Wandering just a bit too low once more, and a bit too high for the first time. Looking over, examining everything; wondering, just what would happen if-

"Laito? Can we play?"

Of course we can, my love, just in which way?

"A? Sure, here, go ahead..."

A little disheveled look shines in the eyes, a bit lost, but easily regainable. Sitting up a bit more straight, repainting the moment lost playful smile, his eyelids close a bit and easily turn away to the yellowing white and black keys.

"I really like the tune you played before, it sounded really nice."

A simple comment, a simple smile, one simple emotion - happy. A pretty line graces your lips; a sneaky look landed in the direction of your face, gives a small little blush to Laito. (How he'd love to see it, your face, contort, maybe even make you blush).

"Oh really~? Do you know what it's called?"

A smile, closed eyes, he doesn't want to see you. The question hangs in the air, just like a misreable life ending it's play.

His head turned to you, his smile becomes a bit more scary, his eyes open with just a bit more mischief in them. His head moves closer, just a bit more to intimidate you? Scan you? Explore you? Read you?

As he keeps geting closer, if you squint, you can notice something is missing. Is it in his eyes? Or in his smile? Is it something in the flame, hiding deeper than the irisis? Or maybe something in his teeth; as if a yellow spot, unseeable, but there to scare, annoy?

"It's called "The blood waltz"..."

Is it a whisper, or is it something in his unnatural tone? Can you... did you tell the difference? Is it just your brain playing tricks on you? Was it just your imagination, that a such a whisper exsisted? Was it also just your imagination, that sent a wave of rare shivers, those types of rare shivers, that you get once in your life as a tide drags you back into it's ocean, prickling down your spine?

It's getting a bit hot in here.

His success, triumph in making you blush, puts back the playful, unreadable smile on his face.

It's a safe smile, yet no heart in it can be seen.

He moves away, his head, his posture back, as if he was a mechanical teddy bear, as if he wasn't real, yet your only wish is, that he were even more real.

And in that moment, in that moment of a wish, in that moment of pure hypnotization, you realise what's missing.

Something that you didn't realise, something, that you thought was so significant, so real, so important, so ture, yet when you look at him now, it was so hard to pinpoint what it was.

Something, that you didn't even think, would make him look so... empty...

He's missing...

His hat.

His hat is missing, he looks so weird without it.

"Laito... where's your hat?"

"Huh? Oh, you like my hat?"

It sounds like a genuine simple question, no mischief behind it.

As he turns away, just for a moment, hiding behind the side of the piano, he seems to grab something. Seeing his back, his side, it seems so lovely, it's as if those green eyes never exsisted, it's as if the mischief hidden behind them, that could even rival Loki's, never did anything, never appeared in your life.

And yet, they turn back in a flash, the emerald green forest hiding in them, once again envolping you whole.

It's quite lovely to get lost...

But, how lost is too lost?

Something simple lands on your head.

"Hmm~, here! If you like my hat that much, you can wear it!"

Cheerfull echoes resonate in the occupied piano room. An empty, but characteristic, closed eye smile, dissolves some of the mist set tension. The hat gently lands as if a fallen feather of a swan, right before turning into a beautiful ballet dancer...

Or...

Right after turning into a swan, never to dance as human again...

"Here, why don't you play me a lovely little tune, entertain me, little doll"

It's just a little blush, a small, invisible tint, perhaps he doesn't see it...?

Maybe if you turn your head just a bit more, turn your focus to the slighty yellowed keys, press just a bit harder, and maybe you'll get the right melody, the right tone. Maybe then you'll finally calm down. Maybe then you'll finally let the music and his unreadable stare drown you in the green land of emerald waters and (un)holy grass...

A simple tune, so melodic, but primitive; one rivaling the beauty of the forest Nymphs and the magic of Orpheus's music.

With a hand resting on the side of the glazed piano, in intense stare is softened (dare we say, even intrigued) and emotion is trying to meet the others.

Yet your fingers are quick. There is no need for a hum or a song, not even a text would be allowed in this tune.

One, two, three, four, and it's a waltz you've never heard before...

"Where'd you learn to play that?"

The melody continues. There is no more suspence, it's coming nigh.

"Shu taught me."

Intensity and stop! The sentence is complete; a black, blot dot is set.

Hands stop, hover and land. You've reached the highest point of the mountain.

"You know... You look awfully adorable in my hat..."

One hand no longer supporting a head, the other slowly slithering, as if serpent, a deadly little thing, across the warmed seat.

The mountain air feels fresh and nively cold on your skin.

"I think... it really suits you..."

The hands drives onto your thigh, both pair of eyes, both looks afraid to cut the tension, as if it were an overblown ballon, that could pop at any drop, or even, a frozen lake. One, with ice so thin, that it makes you question why you even stepped on it in the first place.

Both pair of eyes follow the hand, every trace, it's whole way, it's whole little odyssey.

The fish seem to like to play under your feet, under the frozen water...

On the mountain, you stretch your arms over the horizon.

As the hand rest on your thigh, it's odly warm sensation, radiating from within gives a out a qiuet gulp.

A pair of eyes reach up, desperately trying for air, the green ones slowly follow suit.

Such a beautiful intense gaze, held with a million pieces of silk rope. You're getting lost in the forest, my darling, even if you follow the trail...

So desprate, so strong. You have to breathe, you need to breathe!

The hand moves further up, slowly, intensly, savouring the flavour of your skin, leaving alight a path of fire with each slide up.

His head is twisted, twisted to the side... His hand is moving even more further up, holding, challenging the intense gaze...

You take a breath on the mountain.

You close your eyes, calm on the frozen river.

And the it happens - the fall, the kiss.

His hand stops right where it needs to be, his head closing the gap and giving in to the tension.

A kiss, just a small, little kiss. So soft, so timid; are you getting shy?

(please don't (do) be shy, it makes me so happy...)

The gap is small, but it seems as if you could fit the whole Pacific Ocean in there and still have room to never drown.

But you want to drown...

Eyes locked tight together, you say nothing, but it's all the both of you have to hear.

Quietness, stilness...

You close your eyes on the mountain and...

Fall.

Fall forward, into the gaping abyss with it's bottom never seen...

A raging storm. Lips connected, stronger, hotter; a dancing, dangerous flame in the middle of the room.

It's so hot, it's so suffocating. It's more than just a gentle, timid kiss, it's one that not even Romeo could give to Juliette.

As you fall into the freezing river waters, not even it can stop the burning fire inside you.

You need this, you love this, even if it's burning you raw inside out, right into a dust of ash.

Lean back, just a little lean back; is it because you don't want this? Or is it because you want to let him take you whole?

So much time, such intensity, there is no slow.

As if trying to lead him back with your lips, you're slowly trying to lay down.

Yet, he is pressistent, he will not give in, wont let you get away.

Air, you need air!

But the river is frozen over you.

You keep leaning back, but he just stands up, stradels the poor little chair, and pushes you forward.

Wether it was his hands or his lips, that brought you upright again - you do not know.

But what you do know is that a hand, and another hand make their peace on your thighs. Slowly rubbing and going under, spinning circles like a helpless ballerina.

His hands are under there and they're strong, slowly lifting and making him - your piano chair.

Just as he stradled this chair, he makes you stradle him, continuing your fast burning kiss.

"You're a terrible kisser, you know~"

It makes you blush.

"It's not like I had practice before..."

A little chuckle, this time it's sounds genuine.

Once again, another strong gaze locks itself on you; pressistent! It needs to get your attention...

"Oh, sweetie, I can be your practice, hmm~"

Another kiss, nor hard, nor soft, nor sweet, nor bitter.

It's a waltz, with no rhythm.

"Every week..."

He lifts you, turning around and placing you down on the piano (what an awfully ugly sound it makes...).

His hands enclose on the piano, trapping your hips in place; you won't move away...

"Two hours a day..."

He's getting closer, another sensless, short kiss.

"Until you play my lips, like the melody you played for me..."

Another kiss, this one will last longer, you know.

It's those hot, hot kisses all over again...

He's kissing down now.

It stops at your lips and continues slowly on your chin.

Down.

Hands won't be left behind; as they lift and and hug your legs again.

Kisses under your chin, on your neck, down your collarbone with a stop right there...

Oh, and there? Those kisses were prefume.

They'd linger and sometimes even leave something behind.

He'd bare his fangs and bite, just a bit, right there. But being lost in this high, in this new, strange world, you can't, you don't have to feel anything. The pain is just an illusion, it's actually exctacy, just hiding in a different form.

Yet, biting won't stop him. He'll molest the spot, those two little dots; kiss, suck, lick. Anything and everything, just to get that same sound out of you, that you made a few seconds ago, right in the moment of the bite, the kiss; anything...

And yet, there's no stopping there, you might linger on one spot, but you can't stay there forever.

Kisses keep flowing down like a cold river stream. Down to the heart, to the chest, to the valley. They flow as if a leaf on an ocean. Through the stomach, around the waist, all the way to the hips and stopping near the middle. It's the edge of the waterfall.

"Say, what game did you play with Kanato?"

"What do you mean?"

"Kanato doesn't usually say much, but his look today, your smell... that's all we had to see..."

...

"So, what game did you and Kanato play?"

"It's a special game."

"Oh?"

Just a tilt of the head, both arms on your thighs, but they're holding up a had of their own.

"And how do you play this special game~?"

"Kanato has a special sweet and if I lick and suck it, I get some cream at the end."

"Mm, a special sweet...?"

He's smiling.

"Mhm, I think you have one too."

"Oh really?"

"Yes! Kanato said the cream was supposed to be sweet, but I don't think it was,"

His smile (or is it a smirk?), it get's a little wider.

"Maybe if I try yours, it will be better...?"

"Hmm, how about... I try some of that special cream~?"

"I don't think you can; I think you should ask Kanato."

"Oh, mm, I don't think I'll need to do that,"

His smile... It's still a smile, but there seems to be something off with it...

"Have you ever heard of reversing games?"

"Reversing?"

"Mhm, how about we try reversing your special game, I think I've got the hang of the rules..."

It's no longer a smile, just the esence, no soul of it.

A dangerous fire has unknowingly been lit.

As he kisses the middle once again, soft hands trace your thighs up again, getting a hold of some fabric, squeezing, crumbleing it up, just to pull it all down.

The leaf finally flows off the edge of the waterfall.

At first, a gentle kiss, just like at the start, just like what led to all of this.

Then a another and another kiss, each one more passionate than the last. Tugs and kisses, they are getting more hard, they're less soft, more demanding; this will you lead you somewhere more than the edge of a waterfall...

But it feels so good...

"Laito!"

Another harsh tug, one hand holding on to the piano, as if it were your life, if you let go - you fall. The other quickly flowing to the top of your head, right to the hat, to hold it... Is it to not make it fall off? For reasurance? Something to make you calm down?

"Mm? Oh, don't hold that hat sweetie,"

One hand leads the other off the hat, holding on tight to the wrist (maybe a bit too tight). He doesn't want to let go...

"Just try to not make it fall off, I don't like it when my things get dirty~..."

A look that's trying to bind you in your place is cast once again. It's hard, it's intense, it's... dirty...

"Well..."

The gaze, it's stronger than the gods.

"Some of my things, hehe~"

And he drowns in kisses again, not coming up even for a breath.

It feels so good, as of the tides of the wishing waves have swept up and taken you away. The exctacy, the pure chaos of it, it just slowly builds this feeling inside you. One, that could be compare to the finding of your very own ocean.

It feels amazing, his kisses, their hard, theirs rough, but you dont want the to be soft!

You need this, you want this!

And the ocean that you found is slowly flooding.

"Laito..."

It's not supposed to be a moan or a whimper, but it's not making him stop.

"Laito."

He keeps going, and if anything - even faster and better than before.

Something’s building up inside of you; the ocean is soon to overflow...

"Laito!"

And there it goes, you just let go. The ocean finally overflowd, spilling out the sides of the earth.

You did try to warn him, but that, this feeling... It could rival anything in this world, even the almighty love...

He doesn't seem to care, that you're finally done, over the high, but still stuck in its euphoric fall. He just keeps licking, sucking, cleaning everything up.

"Is it... Is it sweet?"

The questions echo may be tired, but it's esence is just still building up.

"As sweet as honey, hehe~"

He smiles, he laughs or perhaps it's a chuckle.

"So sweet that I want more..."

The ocean may have spilled, but it's far from empty.

He goes and carries on with his want, despite the protest.

Oh, the second time was even better than the first!

So much more sensation, somuch more work... It didn't take long to finnish this time around.

And now, you felt completely down. Still sitting on the piano, heavy, thick breaths, sleep slowly overcomes tiredness. Yet, even as you’re huffing and puffing, feeling as if you just ran a marathon and blabbering on nonsense - he doesn't stop, he didn't stop.

When you finished the second time, he didn't stop; didn't lift his head up, didn't say any comments, just kep on going.

It's hard, you're trying to keep it in.

It does feel good, better with each second, but it's just too much! You... you don't fel like you can take it.

His name falling from your lips, as if trying to stop him, warn him, tell him...

But he cannot hear, he refuses to listen.

The sensations keeps going on and on, you won't be able to hold on for much longer.

One last time, you try his name.

"Laito!"

Yet, to no avail, you are done for.

As the last couple seconds tick, the clock reaches 12, it's already midday. And with those last seconds, with that last tick you release.

The build up, the hold was so big, you feel as if a fountain was just released; and with the tick of the clock, with the wooden bird, a darkness overcomes your eyes. You fall into it, letting go of your physical body, allowing the dark to hug, envolpe and drown you whole; let your soul and mind wander free. Let the exctacy release while you continue to forever swim in it's waters.

Go to sleep now, rest. Let relief overcome you, never to awake from euphoria again.

↢ II o’clock | IV o’clock ↣

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predictable-affairs · 3 years

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I ✯A flip of the coin, but both sides are the same...✯

They would have never thought, never expected for something like this to happen. Never, especially from a bride...

Oh, but how beautiful the doomed bride was, falling into the hands of those sadistic boys... And she didn't even last a month, what an unlucky soul she was.

Yet nor her beauty, nor her grace shocked those boys to their core, it was what she left behind. Whilst cleaning, throwing and burning belongings of the deceased bride, the brothers found something rather unsual.

In the midst of a pile of clothes, that Reiji detested every time he saw it, going as far as to threatning the poor bride to clean it. "It's uterlly deplorable and unladylike!" he'd say in his usal stoic voice. "Alright, I'll clean it, thank you Reiji." agreed the deceased girl, always closing the door right in his face. Reiji did threaten to clean it himself, which always got the bride to insist not to, appereantly it didin't seem to bother the other boys. It seems that his threats weren't empty, since he did end up, after all, cleaning it himself.

Oh an what did he, what did they find in tha pile of clothes?

A small, chuby baby girl.

A child of the bride.

She was quite little, but still, perhaps could crawl? Nevertheless, she stared up, with dusty pink cheeks and innocence that only a child could hold, right at the boys around her, who surrounded her like flies on a rotting fruit. No talking, no crying, no whining, no protesting. Silence and a simple baby stare.

"How did she manage this?", "How did we not notice?!" were the question spinning like pretty ballet dancers in the heads of the vampires, but the most important one - "What should we do?".

A simultaneous question that popped like a red ballon realeasing acusations, opinions and confusion in everyones heads.

What should they do?

"I say we keep it!"

Is the first harsh voice of the fiery Ayato, whose hair could compete with his attitudes ego.

"No way!" next protests Subaru.

"I don't know what you will do, but I will not let... it... grow up among, or become like any of us." continues reasioning the white haired boy.

"Oh, but it doesn't have to grow up a monster, dear brother." interjects another triplet - Laito.

" Yet sadly, I have to agree with you, we do not need to keep another mere human." shrugs the playful boy with an unusual statment, even shocking some of the brothers, but they'd never let their face betray them like that...

He's usually the one who always wants more toys to play with, like a greedy child or an overworked bee.

"No! You are all wrong!" a fitty contradiction could be heard, almost from afar, or maybe right up close?

"We should keep it. I want to keep it!" the strict tone of voice comes from Kanato or perhaps his bear.

"Why? So you can torture it and turn it into another one of your dolls?" mocks Subaru, his pose getting a bit more uncomfortable.

The purple haired boy is in shock. Gripping his little brown bear, waiting to start a fight. How dare he say something like that?!

"If we are going to keep it, it will not be given to only one of us." interrupts a puzzeled, musing Reiji; like cold midnight water, extinguishing the growing new years flame, whose smoke was creating a violent atmosphere, so thick, that even honey would seem brethable enough to not drown in.

"So you agree, we should keep it?" harshly questions the flaming Ayato boy, his patience wearing thin; though insisde he was quite surprised. Does someone as stoic and stuck up as Reiji really agree to keeping a human and even a baby no less?

"No, of course not." offers no other words the mannered vampire, yet telling nothing new or surprising. Now with his gloved hand, which's white didin't differ too much from the pale of his hands, up to the chin, soothingly or maybe even camingly, carresing the face, helping to dose off deeper into his batteling thoughts of the situation he was put in just now.

"What about Shu?" continues questioning hopefully Ayato, for his prior hope just crumbled to calm ash.

Oh, the indifferent, lazy vampire Shu. The blond one of the group of brothers, the only one not in the circle, the only one peacefully resting on the pink covers of the many deceased brides bed, floating in a dream only accompanied by his music.

Or maybe it's something else, something more that he's listening to?

Lazily opening one eye, hardly letting the piercing blue thats holds the whole of the ocean and it's destructive tides in it, peak through, quietly resting on the palms of his hands. Just as lazily as he opened his eye, just as slowly did he close it.

"I do not care." in an indefrent tone that rainly mirrors his mood, is the anwser that he bearly pushes out in a rusty, raspy voice, slowly qiueting down like an echo or a shadow in the back of a throat with every simple word. Indefrence - as predictable as Reijis opposition.

And so the question stands unanswered - what will they do?

Oh, the tension is growing thick, thicker than fog, thicker than otmeal.

Though the atmosphere of violence was quickly put out, a one of verbal fighting is about to break down.

Oh, and a fight did ensue.

So much yelling, from Subaru, opposing, not wanting to raise anything among them; from Kanato, wanting company for his bear - Teddy, and someone to dress up; from Ayato, emptily reasoning with Laito and Subaru on why they should keep them; and quiet giggles, yet as strong as others arguments; Reiji kept quiet, still deep in his thoughts.

The fight kept getting louder, like a shopping mall with big sales or a cafeteria with good food, yet it didn't seem to bother Shu, how unusual...

"We are not going to keep them!" like punches, harsh words are thrown around the room, a ball, bouncing off the soothing pink walls.

"So where do you suggest we leave them?!" more questions coming from blank faces with yeling mouths.

"Kill them!" another shout.

"We are not keeping them!" the final word, stern voice of Reiji, slowly quieting everyone down.

Was it confusion that suddenly struck the aura of the room or pure shock, nobody knew, but it did engrain a moment of peace, silence to the room. It's pink walls suddenly started to feel like matresses.

One, two, three... that's the count of a rich waltz, and that's how long silence ruled the room.

A waltz, a single waltz.

Yelling, again, crueller words and oppositions, it's good that the baby can't talk, or else their vocabulary would be that of a sailor.

So much commotion such a war between the brothers, it seemed that the rosy baby no longer exsisted.

And so through the yelling, through the war of unpieced words and calmless attitudes, for better or worse, for against or by Reijis last words - it was decided.

They will keep her. They will keep the rosy cheeked baby.

And so, her adventure began.

"What... is it?" comes a small, tiny question from a unknown asker in a quiet little voice.

Everyone is silent, no one seems to have considered that question.

,,It's... a girl..." comes an equally akward anwser also from an unknown source.

Well, now her adventure can definetly start.

And so she grew up amongst the six boys, each one slowly, but surely taking a liking to her.

Whether it was the messy baths that Reiji gave the baby girl (which infurated him to no end; "A bath is supposed to be clean! How does one manage to make it so messy!" - a frequent phrase circling his brain like a dark taxi), the calming naps, that Shu took with her (annoying him when she cried waking up, to the point where he gave her a nickname to soothe her that sticked to this day), or maybe the play sessions with Kanato (which always seemed to put a giggly smile on her face, except when he got angry, then they'd both have a screaming, crying fit), the reading lessons with Laito (effectivelly putting her to sleep, yet he woke her up everytime and even in the midst of tired crying - he'd continue teaching her to read), perhaps the physical fun with Ayato (not once letting her win any games, even the one where he tought her how to walk. But that doesn't mean that there weren't any, though who is he to ever admit that?) and possibly the gentle feeding of Subaru (who had more trouble with it than he'd like to admit), that made them slowly grow accustomed to her, they will never know.

It seemed that each brothers compliance helped the others in return, like a mirror or an open letter passed around in a circle, each one slowly grew a soft spot, and even, dare I say, some attachment to her.

Such unusual behavior for a vampire (was it something in her or just them growing weak? - no one pondered), maybe thats why they never said a word to their father?

There was one thing the boys forgot to do - give her a name.

When this point was made, another fight almost ensued. Who should get to name the baby and what will they name them - the two mischievous questions that almost started a fight as if it was a race. Yet, just before the whistle was blown for words and saliva to start flying, a name issued, suggested by Laito, caught the attention of many, especially, since Ayato got very insisting on it and with a hiding blush - Subaru quietly agreed on.

The decesion was made, and the vampires named her (y/n).

They watched her grow up, always keeping her company, playing games and teaching what they wanted to. But they weren't the only ones who watched her. She also observed them.

As she learned to walk and speak, as she started writing her name in better hand writing, getting older with each and every birthday, she saw all the brides come and go, the way they were treated and how they never lasted (yet she stayed obliviuos to that she too, was a child of a bride long lost).

Obviuosly not just one or two brides tried to make friends with the girl; sometimes in the hopes of escape or sometimes just in hopes of finding a friend, someone "normal", someone to vent to.

At first (y/n) felt sorry for the brides, consoled them even.

But as time went on, as she kept getting older the reoccurences started to anger her.

She began despising the brides, how dare they speak the most attrocious lies, talk such foul things about the boys?! They would never do things that they vent of! And insulting them that way, it made her want for them to leave faster.

She hated how with each bride she'd get less attention, than when she was alone with the boys. She hated the brides, their lies and pesuasion of escape. Where would she go? And more importantly - why would she go? They were kind to her, good, they took care of her why would she ever want to run. And after one particular incident, an escape in which she was dragged in and almost lost the mansion, her... family, forever! (Y/n) completely stopped interacting with the brides.

That was the childhood of a lost brides child, but her fate, history, was yet to be made.

↢ What time is it? | II o’clock ↣

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