𝕯𝖊𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊 - [𝗘𝗹𝗶𝗷𝗮𝗵 𝗠𝗶𝗸𝗮𝗲𝗹𝘀𝗼𝗻] (DISCONTINUED)

𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐢𝐢. the vindictive

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎 — the vindictive

━━━━━━━

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐏 that signaled the ending of the call between Ophelia and Rebekah, the siphon huffed and fell back into her chair, the legs squeaking in protest as she did. The conversation was truly a riveting one; from clothes to Ophelia and Elijah's... friendship? No, it wasn't quite as plain and menial as friendship... but it couldn't quite be considered more.

It had left the siphon feeling rather confused.

Feelings left her confused. After all, nineteen years with nothing but anger, betrayal, and sadness brewing within her gut made it impeccably hard to decipher what other feelings felt like.

Love.

That wasn't something she ever felt; platonic love yes, but only for Malachai and Davina, that was the extent of it. As she had discussed with Rebekah; she certainly knew that she felt something for the noble brother, but what she felt... Now that was a riddle that she doubted even Sherlock Holmes could decipher.

Rebekah's parting words had been simple, Just do what makes you happy, Lia, but was it really that easy? She was used to not being happy, used to denying herself that feeling in the fear of it being ripped from her magical grasp.

And so, Ophelia decided to just... Continue with whatever she had already been doing. If an opportunity presented itself, perhaps she would take it, perhaps not.

Before she could dwell on the swirling and conflicting words inside of her ever-whirring mind; a polite knock sounded out against the wooden door of her bedroom; three light taps. Her eyes flickered to the ticking clock.

Party time. Wonderful.

With a light sigh, she grabbed a handful of her dress and pushed herself to her feet; heels clicking against the creaky wooden floor beneath them as she slowly made her way towards the door, fabric swirling around her ankles, brushing up on her skin in a delicate manner.

Her hand grasped at the cool handle of the door before she slowly pulled it open, wide enough to see Elijah standing tall with a suit that seemed even more extravagant than those he would normally wear day-to-day.

And, as ever, he looked impeccable. His chiseled jaw, and dark eyes complimenting the dark and sharp suit better than Ophelia could have imagined.

She watched him closely. She could see his captivating gaze sweeping across her, from the bottom of her heeled feet to the beautiful flowing dress that danced lightly with the small breeze that rifled through the compound before they finally settled on her own umber eyes.