the devil's redemption [tom r.]

17|| Death's Head Upon a Mop-stick.

Why can't you love me like the other boys do?

They stare at me while I..

crave you.

~Crave You by Flight Facilities

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"I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS has actually happened to him," Willow broke the silence for the first time that morning.

They were seated close to eachother, on a bench by Oliver's bed in the hospital wing. They've been there for almost thirty minutes, staring at Oliver's stoned figure.

Despite the abhorrent way he acted towards her the last few days, Rosalind didn't have the heart to not visit him.

The amount of guilt she was feeling at that moment was unexplainable. It was just crucial to see Oliver that way when the last thing they said to eachother was a bunch of mean words. What if it was the last time she actually had the chance to even talk to him?

And when it comes to Willow, well, she decided to actually talk to Rosalind that morning. Nothing was worth holding a grudge on your best friend.

"Me neither. What happened anyway?" Rosalind asked, not expecting an answer but just trying to start a conversation with Willow.

"No one knows. He was alone, patrolling the corridors," Willow explained, still not looking at Rosalind but at Oliver's face.

"He certainly doesn't deserve this," Rosalind muttered, but her mind wandered off to another idea. What if the hissing sound that she heard had anything to do with that?

Then it hit her. What if she was able to spot Oliver and stop him before he was petrified? Or what if it had been her, wandering the corridors late at night– completely unsafe? What if she was the one to get petrified?

And then her curiosity was nibbling at her insides. She wanted to know the reason, and the person who did this to her best friend.

"I'm really sorry, Rosalind. We shouldn't have been so rude to you. We don't approve, but at least we could've tried telling you more nicely," The redhead said suddenly, and Rosalind could tell that she was quite nervous.

"You do not approve?!" Rosalind groaned, "Haven't I made it clear that there's nothing between us? And there will never be!"

Willow nodded reluctantly, "We just want you to know that we care about you, Rosa."

Rosalind smiled at her best friend— a real, genuine smile. The latter pulled the french blonde into a tight hug.

"Girls, isn't it time to head for breakfast?" Madame Hopkins walked in from her office, her hands on her hips annoyedly.

Rosalind stood up, smiled at the nurse and thanked her quickly— leaving the hospital wing as fast as she could with Willow hot on her heels.

***

Rosalind slumped on her bed lazily, groaning exasperatedly.

It was Friday already, and Rosalind didn't have any idea about what she would be wearing to the Slug Club meeting. She kept cursing herself for accepting in the first place. What did she have to do with the petty chatter and nosy questions anyway?

Willow sat on the bed opposite from Rosalind's, crossing her arms angrily.

She'd been bugging Rosalind to start getting ready since noon, showing her a few of her dresses to wear.