𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 † s. stilinski [#𝟐]

four

A/N: Well, this is certainly a lot earlier than anticipated, isn't it?

Song Recommendations
["The Perfect Fit" - The Dresden Dolls ]

"Most of the time, everyone deserves more than one chance. We all do things we regret now and then. You just have to carry them with you."

― Celeste Ng, Little Fires Everywhere

1731

The room was beautiful, or so Mercy would've thought. At least, it was before the explosion.

Fineries only afforded to highest nobility. Silks and velvets against the dark wood of a canopy, a wardrobe, and the most unfortunate of chairs. Hedonistic delights spilling into every corner, like overflowing wine.

Sadira was hoping for more fanfare, a chance to lord over the others with something more than...this. More than an explosion, an explosion she didn't do quite right to be honest. It was all wrong, the trajectory, the targeting, all off. And it ruined the room, worst of all.

She twirled a loose strand of blonde hair around her index finger, examining the total lack of carnage. She used to be so much better with fire. She would know; a day didn't pass in ninety years where she didn't think about that burning church steeple and the stench of charred skin. She was never better with fire than she was that night, when her rage and aching heart burst into all she could possibly have left - seething, unbridled hatred.