It was undeniable that Lorelai regretted her decision. Had she seriously traded the love of her life for the chance to become even slightly more powerful, more in control? It was absurd to her that she had even considered, let alone gone through with, such a betrayal. Her actions had been just that, a betrayal. Not only to Alma, but to herself, to the person she had sworn she would become. She had promised herself a future of domesticity, of stability, of warmth. She had held love in the palm of her hand and, like a fleeting bird, let it fly away.
Sat in an air-pocket cave, she took her musings from heart to hearth. She wrote continually, purging her brain of every regret and thought.
'I am a fool. More than that - I am an idiot, someone purposely closing their eyes because the beauty of the painting before them terrifies them. I have abandoned the best thing to come upon me because I felt not ready to come upon it. It is, everything is, entirely my fault. Every hurt, every ache, every slight discomfort she has ever felt - they are my burden to carry. It is my fault we parted ways, like oil and water, besides each other, touching, never to mix. And that is not a fault I wish to accept. That is a fault I will fix, or die trying.'
Once her head was empty and her hand was aching, she lit a candle and placed the tip of the page into the flame. She sat there, watching it go up in flames - the exact same way her life had.
A/N - I swear this is the last sad, plot-less update. The next chapter will be longer and actually move the story forward
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The Dark Of Our Worlds
FanfictionWhat truly happens when no one is there? What happens in the parts of the world accessible to so few? How human are peculiars? But there are some secrets that aren't like that. Some secrets are so undeniably human and Alma Peregrine has a lot of t...
