❝The universe is full of stars. If it weren't for them, the galaxies wouldn't be bright and the night sky would be a lifeless veil of blue because one can rely on the moon only for so long. The universe wouldn't be itself if all those stars -althoug...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A / N
Hi friends. Long time, no see.
Welcome to 2023's continuation of the story after a long inner debate whether I was ready to begin another project and leave this incomplete. To those few who stayed, I hope you enjoy this chapter full of emotional ups and downs. I'd appreciate your thoughts about it in the comments and please don't forget to vote if you genuinely had a nice time reading it. Your support means everything to me.
Also, at the end of the chapter, I've uploaded Lyla's Enchantix form of the previous part for those who couldn't see it uploaded at the start.
May 2023 bring you everything your heart desires.
Endless love,
Pavlina Diamanti, x.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
THE VOID BETWEEN them scarred her like permanent ink.
It was one of the effects of time travel. Time itself was the healer and the killer of one's soul. It possessed the tremendous power to mend wounds or scar them to a new landmark of pain.
Lyla was floating mid air, her body light as a feather. A wave of wind pushed back the ginger strands from her face. They left her features and the windows of her soul exposed to the portals of images surrounding her sides, resembling movie tapes from a past so far gone. For a fleeting second, she doubted whether it was hers.
The depicted scenes shot an arrow of unprecedented nostalgia. She watched the pictures of her along with her father at the few, true joyful moments in their lives. Those snapshots of a happiness she kept locked in the depths of a timeline that ceased to exist should've stayed where they belonged; in the dusted selves of the past.
There was no reason – or desire – for them to emerge to the surface.
One of them held the dear memory of the monster trying to teach her how to ride the bicycle. He'd failed, putting the blame on her childishness and lack of loyalty.
Lyla restrained the mirthless laugh of derision bubbling within. He was incapable of the little things back then, how could she have nourished the expectation of something bigger?
The other one depicted them passing by the ice cream parlor. Lyla had tugged him with her small, dainty fingers at the hem of his shirt, asking with a fervor that could soften all kinds of coldness for her favorite, vanilla flavor.
His dismissal had come to fire a bolt of rejection to her fragile, innocent heart. His eyes had morphed with harshness and the prominent crease between his brows made it clear he was in no position to offer the tiniest fragment of love to anyone.
