𝔅𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔓𝔞𝔦𝔫

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔉𝔦𝔳𝔢

Seven Devils—Florence + The Machine
𝕶𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖆'𝖘 𝖕𝖔𝖛

      "Kritana," a male voice whispers, causing my eyes to flutter open. I see Rhysand hovering above me, his hair tied back into a bun at the back of his head. "Hm?" I ask, rubbing my eyes with my hands. "It's noon. We should get going," he says, moving some hair out of my face.

      "How far until the next town?" I mumble, still somewhat asleep. "About fifty miles. We should try to get going now so we can travel while it's still daylight. It's much safer," he answers. I nod my head and sit up. "I'll pack up the tent," he offers. He hands me a container filled with bacon. "Eat." I smile as I take the container from him and watch as he leaves the tent before following after him. Crawling out of the tent, I open the container and begin eating away at the perfectly cooked bacon inside. He must have cast a warming charm on the bacon because the delicious meat burns my mouth, but I don't care. I eat it meat happily.

      Rhysand packs up the tent with ease and places it into my bag, which he slings around his shoulder. "Let's just walk. Running will just take too much energy," he says, trekking over to me.

      I walk beside him, glancing at him every now and then. The way his blue eyes shine in the golden sunlight... he truly is a beautiful person. I can understand why all the girls at Kholmance swooned over him. When I caught glimpses of him in the hall or at dinner, I'd always see girls on his arms and more surrounding him, all watching with the same look on their faces. 

      He seems to catch me staring because the corner of his lips kicks up in a smirk. "See something you like?"

      I roll my eyes, scoffing. "Keep dreaming."

      "How long do you think it will take?" I ask, looking at him. "To get to Europe," I clarify. He looks ahead, his eyebrows slightly furrowed as if he were doing the math in his head. "Three days to get to the closest town. We could always buy floo powder there because it's not a muggle town, but the school definitely is keeping watch on that, so I'd say about a week. A week until we can get train or plane tickets to Europe. The muggle way is the safest."

      I nod. "We need money for that," I remind. He smiles and takes the bag he's holding off his shoulder. Reaching in, he pulls out a large handful of bills. My eyes widen. "How much is in there?" I ask. He shrugs. "About fourteen-thousand rubles."

      "Shit," I smile. "That should cover our plane tickets."

      He smiles. "I don't know much about muggles or muggle things, so let's hope I don't accidentally book a flight to China or something." A small snort escapes my mouth.

      As we continue walking, an awkward sort of silence seems to settle upon us and to avoid the awkwardness increasing, I glance at Rhysand and ask, "what are the chances of us actually making it?" I know they are slim, but I want to know what he thinks. Is he an optimist, a pessimist, or a realist? He glances at me. "Not good. Even if we do get to Europe, our problems don't end there. Russia has relations with Europe and if anyone finds out who we are, we could get sent right back. I get killed right when we land back in Russia and you get killed a year later like a goat in a ritual," he says. Realist.