❝𝐈𝐟 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐨, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚.❞
Selfishly fascinated with her own strength, Valen Ferreira is willing to do nearly anything and everyth...
Levi squinted at the paper perched on his lap, his steely eyes working to discern the small letters through the light of the single candle illuminating the infirmary. As his eyes skimmed over the second to last paragraph, the gentle percussion of the withstanding rainstorm played in the background, accompanied by the rumble of thunder and the shrill whistling of the wind. In the corners of his eyes, wavering, misshapen shadows danced across the glossy ceramic flooring, their limbs snaking from the floor and up to the scrims. Not a single person was in sight.
It was like nothing had happened.
Levi deftly signed his name across the small line at the bottom and reached for another paper, and his fingers brushed up against the smooth wooden surface of an adjacent chair. His eyes flickered to the clock nailed above the infirmary's double doors— 10:33 p.m., the clock read. He stood with a groan, his lower back aching from the prolonged sitting. Considering he often stayed up well past midnight doing paperwork, he'd finished earlier than usual— that was a good thing. Despite this, though, he was not completely at ease as there was one more pending matter on his mind.
Valen.
For the nth time that evening, he contemplated on the emergency that'd taken place in the forest.
꧁꧂
CHIRP. CHIRP, CHIRP.
Sitting on the edge of the water, Levi listlessly peeled petals from a flower— a light purple lilac whose color had already begun draining from its petals. Its delicate, floral fragrance bled into his skin as he dropped them in the water, where it'd drift away until the stream lured it in.
And when only the stem remained, he'd drop that in the water, too, and he'd leadenly pluck another lilac from the ground.
Behind him, a family of birds sang as they landed back in their nests. Plucking the petals of a fourth lilac, Levi noted the sun's absence— if Miche's nose was correct, then there'd be a mighty thunderstorm raining down upon them later. Personally, he'd never liked thunderstorms—bad things always happened in thunderstorms—but right now, they scared him none— he needed space, air to breathe, grass to lay in.
As if that would resolve anything.
In the distance, a deer weaved through the vegetation, its antlers blurring with its movement. When Valen had stormed out of the library, he hadn't resumed cleaning— there was no way he could finish after their squabble. In a move one may have deemed masochistic, he neglected his duties and fled to the woods, bounding for the same spring they'd visited little over a week ago. Was it because he and Valen had been there before, wading under the starry canvas of the sky? Because they shared one of the most profound conversations they'd held in weeks?
