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✷ I: Mama knows best (not this time).
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Circe Capulet believes in bad luck.
She has believed in bad luck since she was six years old; a whirlwind of innocence lost. Six year old Circe had believed she had done something absolutely terrible in the life before hers to be born the way she was. Whether she caused some explosion and took lives from it or even, if she did something worse─ Circe had to have bad luck.
Closed fists, clean cut but sharp nails, and a smile to dazzle fake pureblood families that would bruise her skin with their eyes. Curls dragged in different directions to achieve the style that Maria Capulet envisions. As always what Mama wants.
Mama knows best.
Mama, Maria, knows best. Maria always seems to know best, even when her grip on Circe is threatening and tight; be good, Circe Sydonia(only she will have such permissions to her name). Maria knows best even when she is screaming at the top of her lungs at Circe for something as simple as a drop of a cup.
Her fathers are no saint either.
The unknown one; whom whispers say that she has inherited her eyes and lips yet they are only her ancestors on the walls. The reason Circe hasn't been allowed near the beach since was three and why her mother seems to choke on her own breath when Circe passes by at vulnerable moments. Circe doesn't know this man who could've change her luck, her fate.
There lies her stepfather; father Darius. He was breathed a saint in the eyes of her grandparents, Moira and Ajax Capulet (they breathed a mostly loveless marriage, according to her dead grandmother). Her aunt, Alicia Vassal (once a Capulet daughter) enjoyed his company well.. especially when they seem to be gone for an hour during family gatherings.
Darius Capulet, instead, makes Circe want to throw up.
His eyes, ones of someone who has lost his mind and won by a form of foul play, eat her alive. Fear wakes in her bones at him since she was young and caught the worst argument she had ever witnessed. Circe doesn't remember much of it.. but she ran like a frightened rabbit. Darius always called her a rabbit for how small she was; more like a runt she supposes (but he won't tell her that one yet).
