𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇 𖤓 - 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧.

DEKAEPTÁ.

"Time moving awfully quick for you?"

"You could say that." Lyssa muttered, and with this she could've sworn she'd felt the ghost of Felix's kiss brush upon the skin of her back - making her body shudder.

"Time-consuming activities, eh?" He insinuated, causing Lyssa to narrow her eyes questionably towards his remark.

"Like what?,"

"Like snogging Felix." He shrugged, "I cant blame you, though."

"I wasn't snogging Felix."

The lie became apparent before Lyssa could think of a proper response to the truthful accusation.

"And I didn't see you doing it through the window then, I guess." He brushed off, turning away from her towards the shadows of the end of the corridor.

"You what? Where even were you?,"

Lyssa interrogated, a worrisome expression apparent on her face - Oliver had been watching their antics for, most probably, the majority of the duration in which they took place.

Creepy.

"In the garden." He shortly replied, glancing over his shoulder.

"This family seems to have an issue with closing their curtains properly."

And as quickly as he appeared, he vanished.

Lyssa even debated on wether he were a twisted hallucination from the mysterious, unlabelled 'sleeping pills' Venetia provided.

In the garden? What business could Oliver possibly have there at that time?

"Fuck this."

Lyssa whispered exhaustedly to herself, for the pills were beginning to override her bloodstream and consciousness quicker than expected.

Succumbing to the debilitating drowsiness, Lyssa nested herself in the most comfortable bed she'd ever found herself to sleep within.

Her last conscious thought being one of mild dread, for it was only mild because she couldn't stay awake for long enough to further disturb herself with it.

The thought of returning to her house - her mother - in the morning.

The obnoxiously large house that her family no longer needed anymore, for there was far too much excess space for a family of a mere three.

Family.

A bitter word that soured the salvia within Lyssa's mouth and dried out her throat.

The rather pathetic excuse of a family that dwelled solemnly in their soulless home behind closed doors.

Bricks cemented by a sodden sense of unloving and neglect.

For even though the Sol manor was taken precious care of - it's perimeter being neatly hedged with evergreen bushes shaped as intricately as the next to perfection - it's inhabitants did not value it as a home.