it had been weeks, months, maybe even years. george schreave couldn't tell. why would he want to? without her, those days weren't worth living. without her, he didn't know who he was.
even after all that time, the guilt still overwhelmed him, made him have sleepless nights, wishing that he'd done something. wishing that he hadn't stood by helplessly, even as her condition constantly worsened, even as she was dying.
she was the one person who could brighten up even his darkest day, the one person who could get him to feel emotions that he'd never experienced beforehand, the one person that made him whole. and now she was gone. she'd been taken away, ripped from their world by death, leaving him in a castle of memories.
their first meeting. he'd been so adamant that he wouldn't find love, so positive that he'd end up alone. and then he met her. the flare of mischief in her eyes and she didn't tell him her name, their little stories, laughing the night away. she'd intrigued him then, made him want to know more, want to know her. the true her. little did he know.
their bump in, after that. he'd tripped over her in the library. swimming, a food fight, it was a magical day. an unforgettable one. he found himself trusting her—more than he'd trusted anyone else.
although they're first date had been brief, it had been the only enjoyable one and that was when he knew that he was falling for her. that he'd already fallen for her. that she was the one for him and only her.
then was the day at the pool. a day that he would cherish, a memory that now haunted him. the day he knew that he was head over heels, that he was in love, that he needed her by his side. that she had captured his heart. the day of their first kiss.
that night she'd confided in him, trusted him. and he'd drifted asleep the happiest man on earth to have her next to him, woken up to her beautiful face. that night he knew that he wouldn't be able to line without her. that he wouldn't let his vicious, merciless brother murder her. but he had...
and chaos had exploded, drinks poisoned, the girls tortured with the pain bestowed among them, leaving george feeling helpless. yet, she was the one he was most worried about.
they'd said that she was worsening and when he asked and when he saw her, he knew exactly what they meant. she looked terrible, yet still like the most beautiful woman alive, at least to him. but the glimmer in her eyes, the one that never failed to get him to smile, it was gone.
maybe he should've expected it. that maybe a mere few days later she'd be ripped away, lying motionless on her bed, her face stony and her hands freezing. maybe he should've been thankful for the time they did have together, the fact that he was able to say that one final, uncertain goodbye.
but then why did he just wish for her to come back from something inevitable? why did he need her to come back?
he was falling apart, his days spent staring at the walls, at the one picture he had of her. and she was the only one who could save him, the only one who could take him back, make him his old self.
but she was gone.
aedammair byrne was gone.
little note!
no, aeda isn't dead, but
it's me, so rip bb aeda.
sorryyy, i was crying
over their infirmary
chain and then i
lowkey had to write
this. it's also a little
short, but i love it
and my emotions
are all over the place
sooooooooo yeah
YOU ARE READING
𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗘𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦 | masquerade
Random"𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝗇, 𝗂 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂'𝗆 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇." 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗌
