Chapter Thirty Three

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Sorry if some of the chapters have been kind of boring. I promise it gets better, since the climax of the story is actually coming up pretty soon.



Okay, I said I would tell you how I interpreted the picture Derek drew right? To me, or well to him, the picture meant that Celeste looks angelic and beautiful on the outside, but she's actually more fierce and vicious. Her appearance is deceiving that way. She's on a cloud in the sky, because to Derek, her love is out of reach.

Please comment and vote. Enjoy!





Chapter Thirty Three – Celeste

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Classical music flitted through the swift night air. Guest glided around the courtyard's grounds. Lacing on the bottom of woman's dresses swooshed along.

Bored, I pushed a piece of Tilapia around my plate. Francesca was busy meeting and greeting the wedding guest, so I had been left to my own devices. My chin rested in the palm of my hand as I surveyed the party.

Derek sat at another table, slumped in his seat. He lifted his eyes, as if he had sensed me watching him. We both just stared for a moment. Then, he gave me a small weak smile. Slowly, he raised himself up, them made his way to my table, and took the seat next to me.
"Celeste," he said, "there's something I want to tell you." I nodded, instead of answering yes. There was something about his expression that seemed vulnerable, and I was afraid that if I spoke, some part of him would break. "It's just... that I'm sorry. All those months that I tried to force you to admit something you didn't feel, I shouldn't have. It was wrong of me to force those feelings upon you. I want you to know that whatever choice you make, it's okay with me."
Everything he had said didn't quite make sense, but I understood bits and pieces of it. What did he mean forcing his feelings upon me though? If he only know how I truly felt. But that couldn't happen. And choices, what did he mean by that?
"Thanks," I said uncertainly. Derek nodded, and stood up.
"I'm going back to my room. It's getting late." I blinked.
"Late? It's not even eight." He shrugged.
"Well, I'm tired, so I'm heading back in. I have a feeling that the rest of the night won't be too... spectacular for me."
Again, I wasn't sure what he meant but I nodded. He reluctantly stood up and made his way back inside. And now I was alone. Again.
I stabbed the piece of Tilapia forcefully, then lied my fork down. There really wasn't any reason for me to stay here anymore. Now that Derek was inside, I had no one to protect.
"Celeste," a voice called. I glanced up and saw Drake rushing towards me.
"Hey," I said.
"Hey," he replied, grinning.
"Everybody seems to be having a good time," I said.
"I hope that includes you." I shrugged.
"I'm not sure about that. Guess I'm kind of tired." He nodded.
"Can I ask you something though?"
"Maybe, but I might not feel like answering." Drake laughed.
"It's just one question, I promise. Would you care to dance?”
My eyes glanced over the crowd and their faces filled with joy. "Well, it's not like I have anything better to do."
"Well, I guess that's good for me," Drake said, holding out a hand for me.
Placing my hand in his, I let him lead me towards the music.
I'd never danced with Drake before, but the feeling was nice. However, I couldn't help but compare it to when Derek and I had danced.
I still remembered the tendrils of warmth that had spread through my body at his touch...
Realizing my eyes were closed, I slowly let them open. Why did I always let my attention get drawn back to Derek?
When the music stopped, I took a step back.
"I guess this is where I should thank you for dancing with me," I said.
"It was my pleasure," he replied.
"I think I'm going inside now."
"Wait," he said as I turned away.
"Yeah?'
"I lied." My body froze.
"Lied about what?"
A small smile slipped up the corners of his lips.
"About asking only one question."
Before I knew what was happening, Drake bent down and positioned himself on one knee. The music stopped, and everyone turned to look, delight dancing in their eyes. Some of the women were giving me thumbs up, but I was too confused to make out all the signs.
"Celeste, I know I've only known you for a short while, but you've already stolen my heart. I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out a small black velvet case. When he opened the case, a shiny diamond revealed itself. "Celeste, will you marry me?"
I blinked rapidly. A million things were running through my mind, and yet it felt blank, like it couldn't think. He wanted to marry me? Should I say yes?
But did I love him? Love him enough to marry him?
And then there was Derek.
Then I made up my mind. I knew how I would answer, and there was no turning back.
"No," I whispered, "I can't."
A few gasps sounded, but I ignored them. My hands stilled as I stared down at him. "I'm sorry, I can't."
"Why," he asked. His face had completely fallen.
Blinking away a tear, I smiled sadly and glanced away. "I'm so sorry, it's just..." Biting my lip, I took a deep breath. "I'm already in love with somebody else."


Chapter Thirty Three Part Two - Derek
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The sound of voices and laughter faded into the background as I receded into the hallway.
I didn't know I had been holding my breath until I had let it out in frustration. Why did I walk away from the situation? I could have convinced her to come inside with me, so Drake wouldn't have been able to propose.
But it was her choice. I wanted it to be her choice, whether if she wanted to say yes or no. Even if it pained me. I wouldn't be so selfish to take away her decision.
Entering my room, I undid the buttons on my shirt, and laid it on the back of a chair. Flicking on the lights, I made my way towards my desk, when I realized some was seated it he chair besides the table. Strands of unmistakable black hair sprouted from the top of the chair. I sighed.
"Penelope, what are you doing in here?"
There was no response. Perplexed, I walked closer.
A strangled gasp sounded at the back of my throat.
Blood gushed out from the top of her chin. Her neck was twisted at an unnatural angle, her eyes blank and foreboding. The expression on her face was one of fright. Her mouth formed a grimace. The color had drained from her face, leaving pale white skin its place. Her lips formed an expression that seemed she had somehow been cut off in the middle of a shriek.
I staggered backward in shock. Penelope was dead.

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