Mystical Saga - The beginning

14. Snowy Secrets 2 (F)

A/N

This story is unedited so apologies for grammatical and spelling errors if any.

_____****_____

Fiora's (POV)

Fury coursed through me like a wildfire as I stewed in my own embarrassment. 'I'm mad and I'm never talking to this man again,'  I seethed internally. There I was, seated across from my idol, and I had failed to recognize her. It wasn't entirely my fault; the scarcity of photos online, especially ones depicting her current appearance, left me at a disadvantage. Yet Zack and Mr. Black found endless amusement in my blunder, teasing me mercilessly. If not for Mrs Black's intervention, I would have drowned in the depths of my mortification. Oh, how I loathed him in that moment.

As we made our way to the library, I maintained a stony silence, refusing to even spare him a glance. Instead, I turned my attention to the world outside, the scenery passing by in a blur of colours and shapes, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within me.

"You're mad?" Zack's voice cut through the tension, his tone almost playful, as if oblivious to my steadfast silence. "Miss Mary, I'm talking to you," he persisted.

"Just drive and keep it professional between us," I retorted dryly, my irritation palpable.

"Oh! You're extremely mad," he chirped, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. I offered no response as he continued to navigate the road. Eventually, he pulled the car over to the side, breaking the monotony of the drive.

"Why are we stopping here?" I inquired, puzzled by the sudden halt in our journey, especially in such a desolate spot.

"If you're mad, then say it out loud. Don't sit there all pouty and silent like a stone," Zack urged, his smile genuine despite my simmering mood. "I'm not mad. Why would I be mad? After all, making fun of their junior seems to be a birthright of seniors," I muttered, a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and sadness tainting my words.

"Oh! I won't apologize for that; because I adored your expressions when you were mad, all pouty and at a loss for words. It was a delightful mischief, a playful dance, reminiscent of childhood. It felt like being part of a family..."

Pausing to gather his thoughts, he continued, "Mr. and Mrs. Black, they're like my second parents. I've grown up with them, in the embrace of these snow-covered woods. For the first time, I truly felt alive, unburdened, and free. I never meant to hurt your feelings for my own amusement, though I understand if I did. If it helps, you can hit me, let out that anger..." His words trailed off, his eyes revealing a blend of sadness and tentative hope.

As he spoke, a sudden surge of emotion washed over me, compelling me to reach out and comfort him. "You didn't grow up with your parents?" I asked softly, my subconscious guiding my hand to grasp his. "They left me when I was young, not intentionally though," he replied, his voice carrying the weight of past sorrows.

"Their passing came tragically in an accident when I was just sixteen," he confessed, his voice quivering with the weight of memories. "Since then, Mr. and Mrs. Black have been my pillars, my family in every sense of the word." A tremor ran through him as he continued, "I'm not sure why I'm divulging this to you, but I felt compelled to share. Please, don't carry it too heavily in your heart. It's not about you; it's just a part of my journey.", his eyes changing to arctic blue, reminiscent of that striking white wolf. I was confused, inundated with a whirlwind of emotions and questions, yet all I could manage was to close my eyes and rest my head against his palms.