It was almost sad that the residents of the warlock school couldn't hear the graceful tune of Clair De Lune. It was like a lullaby to both Anastasia and Michael's ears now, and every night they visited the room together, door locked and room silenced. The girl laid on top of the piano, her eyes focusing on the ceiling as her hair laid sprawled out like a wild rose bush. She wore a long, black dress; her face relaxed in a state of calm. Michael was seated beside her, his ringed fingers playing the notes of the song with ease. He was a fast learner, and had it mastered with in two days. She usually liked to play it herself, but it seemed so ethereal when he played her song. Well, perhaps that was silly to say it was her song, but it sure felt like it was. It held meaning to her, in both parts of her life, new and old.
If someone were to a walk in, their set up would seem to be like a renaissance painting. The warm fire and dim light, the piano and her snow skinned complexion against it, the angelic looking creature who created the song with simple movements of his hand. Michael had never really listened to music before Ana, and only had when she would make recommendations for him. He had never liked them, but he was different then, and was always too afraid of saying something and hurting her feelings. And he still didn't listen to music, but the song he played now had grown on him. They were more than notes to her, he could see that. So, when he played, he poured his love into the keys his fingers danced upon and hoped they would soothe whatever troubles her tormented soul tried fighting off.
And it calmed him too, and his shoulders laid relaxed as he played the tune for his sleepy lover. His teachers decided to give him their own version of the seven wonders, a pretest, if you will. Besides John Henry, they all believed he possessed the power of the new supreme, and they all loved the idea of Cordelia Goode no longer being in charge of things. That was a few days away, and even though he knew he would pass their "pretest" without so much as sweating, he was still nervous. Because when it came to Ana, things could never be less than perfect.
He was missing Ms. Mead terribly, and he longed to see the woman he adopted as his mother figure. Ana felt the same, and she too, was missing the strangely odd company of the woman. The rich smell of her perfume, the syrupy scent of her french toast. She wondered if she was feeding Sheldon like she had promised, and she hoped there reunion wouldn't be her finding him floating in the tank. Although, she figured it wouldn't matter if she were to see Miriam, because she was still under that spell, and not a single soul knew who she was.
Michael's eyes slowly went to Ana's form that laid in front of him, her arms laying on her stomach as she stared at the ceiling. She looked at total peace, not a single muscle in her body moving as she breathed deeply. She was exhausted, he could tell. She had another nightmare the previous night, and had woken him up when she shot up in bed with heavy pants. She never really talked about them, but he could fill in the blanks. He felt guilty because of them, though he knew it wasn't his fault, nor was he responsible for what her subconscious could conjure up.
It annoyed Ana, being so bothered by them in her dreams. Because the minute she woke up, they no longer did. It was the old part of her that she tried to bury, the part that was trying to grieve as Ana left it all behind. She wished she could just destroy it all, get rid of the part of her that cared. Things were better to a large extent, but that part still remained inside of her, nor would it ever go away. It was what made her human, what made her love Michael. And she simply couldn't not love him.
His fingers moved like a calm creek against the keys, his eyes dancing across the black and white as the instrument sang to the room. He wasn't sure how long he had been playing, but it had felt like a continuous loop. He glanced up when he hit the last note, his hands removing themselves as the room went silent.
Ana was asleep, her head turned slightly toward him as her eyes fluttered close. Her hand had moved from her stomach, laying out toward him as if she were secretly begging for him to hold it. Her feet dangled slightly off the edge, a loose curl falling over the keys as her lips parted.
He released a quiet sigh, softly closing the piano cover as he rested his elbows on top of it. He sat like that for a moment, just silently observing her face and the peaceful slumber she was in. Oh, how he hoped she was dreaming of beautiful things. Beautiful people deserved to dream of beautiful things, it was only fair.
His hand reached out to her limp, dangling one, slowly caressing her tiny fingers and the indents of her palms. He smiled softly at her nails, or lack of, he noted. It was a habit of hers he had grown to live with, and he could even recall her chewing on her nails when he first met her. Crashing into him, her books falling to the ground and knees scuffing as she looked up to his younger self, and she had brought a nail up to nervously bite. But despite the abuse she had given them, they were still perfect in his eyes.
He stood up slowly, letting go of her hand and making his way around the piano. He scooped his arm under her, lifting her into him with ease as her head lulled to the side. He didn't hold her like this often, never really being given the opportunity. He paused at the door, glancing around the room one last time.
Their room.
Every square inch of it had been a witness to there love, the sound barriers hearing it with their song from the piano. He smiled, looking down on her and giving a dainty kiss on her forehead, finally leaving the room behind him.
~~~
"Jack has been wanting to help me practice for the test." Michael scoffed, fixing his hair in the bathroom mirror before he left for classes. "I keep telling him no, but he won't listen. I'm surprised he's not made us fucking friendship bracelets, yet."
"If I make us friendship bracelets will you wear it?" Ana called from the other room.
"No." He shook his head, smirking when he heard her grumble. He went to speak again, but he rolled his eyes as he turned to stand in the doorway. "Will you please stop that jumping, Anastasia?"
The girl laughed, her hair bouncing up and down as she jumped on his bed, strawberry ice cream in hand. "Why?" She said through a mouthful.
"Because it's annoying." He crossed his arms.
She smiled sweetly, holding out her hands. "Wanna jump with me?"
He scoffed. "Absolutely not. I'm going to class, now come on." He grabbed his things, heading toward the door.
"I'm staying here today." She told him, pausing his actions at the door. "I'm gonna search the library for something new to read. We're almost done with The Great Gatsby."
He watched her for a moment, nodding as he glared at the dripping ice cream in her hands. "Okay. But if you get that shit on my bed, you'll be sleeping out in the hall."
She sent him a wink as he left the room, leaving her all to herself as she collapsed on the bed. "Shit." She muttered, a drop of her desert falling on to his white pillow. Oh well, she thought. He wouldn't dare try to make her sleep out in the hallway. If he did, she'd send his ass to mars.
She began her day as usual with a hot shower, changing into a short, black dress with long sleeves that were sheer and see through. Usually, she didn't dress up around there. But dressing up and trying on the many dresses Michael conjured up for her was a good way to pass the time. Besides, she looked absolutely ravishing in them. She smirked at her appearance, slipping on black heels as she fluffed up her hair.
The library wasn't near as busy as usual, only holding Xavier and his small friend group in the corner. The room was large with several books to choose from, but all were related to the topic of magic. It was a bitter disappointment, and she almost felt like sneaking into Jack's room so she could steal one of his comics.
So, she decided to sit in and snoop on their conversation, which was filled with nothing but crude jokes and talk of Michael supposedly taking the seven wonders test. Apparently they didn't care much for the witches and hoped Michael would be their next supreme. Ana had laughed to herself at that. Boy, everyone was clueless.
She strolled down an empty hallway to make her way back to her room, her shoes clicking against the floor and only being audible to her ears. She paused outside the study hall room, the television inside blaring loudly and pulling her in. No one was in the room, and she crossed her arms as she stepped to turn the annoying machine off. She leaned over to turn the switch, and her eyes darted to the screen when a familiar name was mentioned.
She stilled, stepping back as her eyes grew wide in shock. Her picture was on the screen, her blonde hair pulled into her signature pony tail, her shiny green eyes. She cranked up the t.v even louder, breath coming out shortly as she stumbled to sit down. The news anchor was talking, but she couldn't really hear him due to the racing of her heart. However, the words that ran across the screen flashed bright in her eyes.
They moved quickly, and she was only able to pick up a few words. There had been a car accident, and by the talks of it, it looked to have been at an intersection. She was dead, and had been instantly. That's all Ana could tell, and truthfully, her body wasn't picking up anything else.
She quickly shot up and turned the t.v off, swallowing as she placed a hand to her stomach. "You don't care." She whispered, shaking her head as she fought of passing out. She whispered it repeatedly, slowly walking out of the room and to her own.
She was glad Michael wasn't in the room to have to see her, and she walked to the mirror to gather herself. "You don't care. You don't care." She begged, taking a deep breath.
But she did, and she felt those feelings deep inside her, trying to break the surface and be released like a powerful dam. But she couldn't let it, because if she cared about her, then she would care about everything else. And that would just get in the way, it would get in the of the plan, her and Michael. She cared, she had feelings, but she couldn't care about the heartaches of the world. Her soul was too damaged for it, and that was part of the reason why she took that spell to begin with.
Her mind wouldn't rest as she stood in the mirror, damaging her nails bloody with her teeth. She didn't care, but she had to see her. Call it, closure. She knew it was a load of bull, but any excuse she could come up with, she would take. If she saw her, her mind could then rest.
The next moments happened so quickly, she wasn't even sure if they really happened. She didn't take her phone, she didn't write a note or hunt Michael down; she simply left. She ran down the hallway at a fast speed, glancing around to make sure that he didn't see her. He wouldn't let her go, she was positive about that. But what was really the harm if no one even knew of her existence? He was just overprotective.
Her shoes clanked against the metal stairs that curled to the second level, and she climbed them with great intentions as her eyes sat on the door. This was stupid, she told herself. But she didn't care, she needed her mind to rest, to know that what she had seen was real.
She gave herself no pauses to rethink the idea, because she knew if she did, she wouldn't go. She gave a glance around her, quickly twisted the knob, and left Hawthorne behind.
~~~
Her heart pounded as cars and people flooded around her, the bright city lights burning her eyes with such intensity. She had gotten used to the dim lighting of the school, and suddenly wished she had brought her sunglasses. It was raining, and her curly hair grew damp along with her dress. The water splashed against her face, and it was almost as if mother nature did Ana's crying for her.
It was cold, the wind blew against the rain, and she couldn't help but feel fear as she mixed with everyone. It had been so long since she had been out, or out anywhere without Michael beside her. And really, it wasn't dangerous, she was in no danger. But her emotions were trying to bubble up, the news on the t.v hurting her so greatly that it was trying to latch on to anything , something. Which right now, seemed to be the weather.
She jumped when it thundered around her, her lips parting as she took a shaky inhale. Her feet blindly carried her to the hospital she had seen on the screen, and she wondered if the girl's body was even still there. She knew Michael wasn't out of his classes yet, but she was sure she'd hear the Earth shake when he did. But that would be a problem she could deal with later.
She gulped as she entered the hospital, crossing her arms nervously as she looked around. It was full, filled to the brim with sickly people and blood dripping out of them. Ana cringed, rushing to the receptionists desk. She spared her a glance, and cursed herself. She can't see you, dumbass.
"Fuck!" She cursed, water dripping from herself to the floor. She turned to look at the wall plaque, eyeing the different floor levels that were posted. She found it, the morgue. Room 516, and didn't waste a second before quickly disappearing down the hall.
She felt sick, her throat burning and legs shaky. And if things weren't already bad enough, the two people she saw when she rounded the corner almost brought her to her knees. She froze, standing there with wide eyes and dripping hair.
"I never really liked her, but she could be a sweet kid when she wanted to be."
"Yeah, which was rare." He spoke as they shared a laugh. "But she really stepped up these last months. I can't even begin to wrap my head around what her parents are feeling like."
Ana scoffed. Jasper and Fiona stood side by side, coffees in their hands as they watched the babies in the nursery. They looked exhausted, and had been there all night.
"They don't." Ana spat, disregarding their presence and continuing her journey. Maybe saying they didn't care was a little much, but her parents were definitely not winners of the number one mom and number one dad award. Which, she figured she had no room to talk when it came to childhood. Still, she was angry.
The hallway began to be less crowded, a few nurses here and there as lights flickered above her head. She found the room she was looking for, and she suddenly wished Michael was there to give her a shove inside. There was no one in sight, no one in the room, so she quickly forced herself inside. She locked the door, turning off the light to keep anyone from bothering her.
The room was cold, almost freezing. She swallowed nervously, turning around to see the empty room. It was big, full of metal tables and coffin like cabinets where they stored the bodies. Her stomach was begging to be spilled, her anxiety making her see stars. She didn't know which one the girl was in, and she didn't want to have to open every single one until she found her.
She made her way over to a filing cabinet, opening it with shaky hands as she searched through the letters. She couldn't believe she was doing this, she couldn't believe she cared. But she did, and her heart speed up when she found the letter she was looking for. She flipped it open, searching through the names of the letter until she found which one she was in.
She closed it, placing it back inside as she breathed in sharply. She stumbled over to the refrigerator like freezer, her eyes focusing on the number five that stood out. She forced herself to yank it open, the girl's body rolling out along the table with a white sheet. She crinkled her nose at the smell of her, the dead scent of her almost breaking the barrier she was trying to keep up.
Her hands rested on the silver railing, begging herself to get the closure that she wanted to. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and tried telling herself that she didn't care. She quickly lifted the blanket off the girl, her mouth falling slack as she stumbled backward.
"Oh my, God, Beth." She gasped, her hand covering her mouth. Well, it was her, but it didn't look like her; not really. Her face was covered in bruises, her hair stained from blood. She was whiter than the sheet on her body, her lips cracked and dried. "Oh my- Oh, God." Ana shook her head, coming back to the railing as she placed a hand on her stomach.
She wanted to touch her, to caress her pale cheek. She reached out, but gagged harshly as she doubled over, turning to her side as she vomited on the floor. She gasped loudly, dry heaving as she stumbled on her legs. Her eyes were burning, painfully burning and she didn't know why. She shook her head harshly. "No. Stop it." She told herself, ashamed of her bodily reactions.
She turned back to the girl, her body more relaxed that she emptied the contents of her stomach. She sniffled loudly, wiping her mouth with her hand as she leaned against the wall. This was closure, she told herself. Not caring.
Ana sat there for several hours, and it was like the universe let her have the quiet room all to herself, no people ever in sight. She never talked, only looked at her as the vile smell of her vomit rolled off in waves. She was sweating, despite the cold room. Michael was going mad, she knew that. But she couldn't bring herself to worry about him. She felt paralyzed, her limbs numb as her throat dried.
"I'm so sorry." She breathed, hours later as the rain had still not let up. The words hurt her hoarse voice, and she forced herself to go over to the girl. She looked down on her, her face even more pale, more cold than last time. She felt her eyes burning again, and she cringed as she shook her head. "Stop." She told herself, reopening them to look at Beth.
She forced herself to grab her hand, a dry sob leaving her at the coldness off it. "Beth, I'm so sorry." She whispered, leaning down to the girl. Her other hand came to grab the side of her face, her bloodied nails bright against her cold body. "I was going to have him save you." She told her, her hands tingling from the cold.
Ana would not cry, she didn't want too, nor did she feel like she could. But mother nature did for her. It poured against the roof, thundering loud like sobs from a battered spirit. Her hair was still wet as she leaned over the girl, and a small drop of water fell from her curls and traveled down her cheek. It felt cold, and it fell from Ana's face and landed on Beth's nose.
She glanced down the girl's body, seeing the small flower tattoo she had gotten several weeks ago. Ana's hand tightened around hers, and thunder erupted loudly, replacing the sob that wanted to come from the girl's body.
~~~
She stumbled around for what felt like hours, going from place to place and the most random of spots. She didn't know what to do, and her emotions were driving her up the wall. She wanted to cry, she could feel it burning behind her eyes, but she also felt disgusted with the idea. She wanted Michael to hold her, but she knew the moment he laid eyes on her it would become a scream fest. Even if she had good intentions, it most likely wouldn't matter.
She knew she was making things worse by staying out longer, but she didn't care. Beth was dead, another person she loved, gone. And it only added to her worries about the boy she loved so much. When was he going to disappear? It was only a matter of time to her.
She felt sick, irritated and upset all at once, and she didn't know how to deal with it. Eventually, she knew she had to turn back to the school, and her feet blindly carried her home. She felt like she was in a trance, a trance she would never be able to snap out of.
She was near the woods outside of Hawthorne, the same place where Michael had put her under that spell. The moon was bright and the sky was calm, completely different compared to before. It was peaceful, in a way, her sad and lonely walk home. Though, the peace was short lived when Michael came crashing through the woods.
She jumped when she saw him, and his eyes went wide as he adjusted to the vision of her in front of him. He didn't look angry, that was the first thing she noted. But his hair was wild, his clothes were loosened and he looked pale. His eyes flashed with relief when he saw her, his shoulders relaxing as he took a deep breath.
Ana said nothing, standing there with a blank expression.
Suddenly, his own expression turned sour, and he made long strides over to her. "Where the fuck have you been?!" He screamed in her face, causing the fluttering of scared birds to move about the forest. "Do you know how long I've been out here searching for your ass?"
She flinched slightly at the screaming in her face, but she gave him no reaction, only simply staring at his chest.
Michael was unbelievably angry, so angry that he wasn't registering the shape of her appearance. He didn't notice the damp, flat mess of her hair or clothes, he didn't notice the dried blood that leaked from her nails or bled from her lips. Quite frankly, it looked like she had been attacked. But his anger blinded him from seeing that, and he reached out to grip her arm.
"Answer me!" He shouted, leaning his face into hers.
Ana swallowed, her voice dry as she tried to form words. She didn't know what to say, and she wondered if he would even believe her. She was exhausted, and all she really wanted was to sleep. She glanced up at his angry face, parting her lips slightly as she went to rest her head on his chest.
He narrowed his eyes. "Hey!" He snapped, pulling her away. "I said, answer me! Where the fuck have you been, Anastasia?"
She gulped audibly, a breath leaving her. "I was- I.."
He cocked his brow, leaning down to look into her face. He was giving her a look that made her feel small, like she was the stupidest person in the world.
"Let me guess," He interrupted harshly. "Bored, right?" He grabbed her hand in his, and began pulling her toward the school.
He was walking so fast, she almost tripped a few times, her breathing sputtering out of her gnawed lips. Twigs and leaves snapped underneath them, and she could hear him muttering angry curses and exclamations of disbelief. She blindly let him lead her inside, and she wasn't even afraid of his temper; just simply exhausted.
He slammed the door to his room, waving his hand to lock and silence it from outside ears. He let go of her hand, leaving her to awkwardly sit on the edge of the bed while he paced around in anger. She was too tired to even raise her head and look at him, and she shivered from the cold her body radiated off of her.
He stopped to look at her, but the very sight of her only infuriating him further. He angrily grabbed the candle stick that sat on his desk, throwing it to the wall and shattering the mirror on it loudly. Ana jumped, finally looking up to meet him.
"Am I going to have to start chaining you up?" He spat, paying no mind to the mess he caused. "You've been gone for hours, Anastasia! I've been worried sick about you!"
She felt that familiar lump in the back of her throat, and she cursed herself as she averted her eyes.
"If you wanted to go out, you should have told me!" He continued. "I would have taken you! But no, you just sneak out behind my back again!" He yelled in disgust, turning away as he scoffed. "I don't know why I even bother with you sometimes, it's clear you're never going to listen."
She felt her eyes burn, and she couldn't understand why it hurt so bad. She pushed them back, biting her tongue.
"You're a selfish bitch, you know that?" He sneered, turning back to her as he undid his tie. "You think you can do just whatever you want, don't you? You can do, or say whatever you please and no one will ever bat an eye, right? Well, you're wrong, Anastasia! If those witches were to ever, ever find out about you...you don't even want to begin to think about what they would do to you!" He was yelling so loudly, she almost wondered if the spell would even hide his voice.
She was sitting there like a child, while he screamed at her like an angry parent. If it were any other day, she would have pounced right up and screamed back, but even speaking made her feel nauseas. It reminded her of the night at the apartment, the night where he had towered over her and screamed in her face, trying to understand why it was that she wouldn't move in with him. Which had been because of Helena, but his fragile ego was too stubborn to see that. It seemed silly to look back on, but it only made her eyes tear up more.
Her hand went to hold her stomach, and she blinked painfully as she stared at the floor.
"I'm doing everything, absolutely everything to keep you protected!" He continued just as angry. "But I can't do my fucking job if you're running off all the time! If I didn't love you, I'd drop your ass in the middle of the Atlantic. But I do, so you better get your shit together before I start locking you in here, you selfish, selfish bitch." As soon as he said it, Ana doubled over and let out a sob.
Her hand pressed against her stomach, the other holding her up on the bed as she began crying steadily. It hurt, and burned her face like acid.
Michael's eyes grew wide as he took a breath, her crying snapping him out of his daze. Her tears caused him to look at her, really look at her that time. There was blood on her hands, her dress and hair wrinkled from rain water. She looked a mess, and he was only now realizing it. He swallowed worriedly, coming down to kneel in front of her. "What happened to you?" He grabbed her face, trying to search her tearful eyes.
She didn't answer him, continuing her crying as her tears stained the ground.
He sighed guiltily. He didn't mean it by calling her a bitch, but he meant everything else that he had said. He protected her, did everything for her, and she went and ran off again. She had hurt him, but he was hurting by the cries that left her body. "Ana, stop crying." He asked softly. "You don't have to cry, it's just...sweetheart, I know you get tired of being stuck in here all the time. I know you get bored and-"
"I wasn't bored you son of a bitch!" Ana spat, her head snapping up as she shoved his hands away. Her eyes were burned red from tears, a pained look on her face. "Beth is dead! She got in her car to go to work, and some mother fucker ran a red light and killed her!" She yelled back, his eyes wide as he leaned back.
She sniffled loudly, wiping her painful tears. "So, I went to see her. I wasn't bored, Michael. My friend died and I..had to see her." She sent him a look of betrayal, and he shook his head.
Guilt flooded him instantly, his own words haunting his memory as he reached out to her. "Ana, I'm sorry-"
"Fuck you!" She slapped him across the face harshly, pushing him away as she shot up from the bed and disappeared out of the room.
She stormed down the hallway, wiping away her tears and the stinging feeling of them away from her. She pushed open the doors to the piano room, slamming it as she made her way to the bench. She gripped the edges of it tightly, sitting down as she forced herself to calm down. Her breathing was loud, and she took several moments to compose herself.
But then, Michael pushed through the doors, a panicked look on his face. "Ana, please, let me-"
"Get the fuck out!" She snapped, looking up to him angrily.
He shook his head, stepping toward her as his eyes grew wide. "No, you have to let me apologize. I didn't-"
"I don't have to let you do anything!" She stood up, rounding the piano. "In fact, stop talking!" She shouted, his face flashing with guilt.
"You talk about me being selfish?" She scoffed. "Well, how about you start appreciating the things I do for you. I have given everything to you, Michael! Accepted you for who you are without question, not so much as even batting an eye! I moved in with you, got rid of a part of myself so I could be with you. Do you get that? I love you so much that I pushed away a part of myself for you!" She could feel her eyes burning again, and she ignored the pained look on his face.
"And I get that you were worried, okay? I'm sorry. But Beth is... I had to go see her, Michael." She shook her head angrily, her voice calming down. "That's the whole truth, and if you don't believe me..well, that's you're own damn problem. And if you want to bend me over and beat me until you feel better, go right ahead. See if I fucking care." Her voice broke as she turned back around, sitting down at the piano as she rested her head in her hands.
Michael's eyes teared up as he stared at her, mentally kicking himself for what he had said. Now that he had thought about it, he hadn't even given her time to answer where she had been, he just assumed. This whole thing could have been avoided, if it weren't for his lack of patience. Though, his reasons were justified. After all, he had thought she just up and left, she certainly had done it before. Still, he shouldn't have yelled. Beth was dead, and it was obviously hurting her, and he just had to go and make it worse.
The room erupted into silence, Ana's head in her hands as Michael stood there. Slowly, he made his way around to her, and kneeled beside her. He couldn't see her face, due to the curtain of her frizzy hair, but he could see the abuse she had given her fingers. He cursed himself, taking a deep breath.
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry." He breathed, setting his hand on her bare knee. "I just...damnit, Anastasia you scared me. I couldn't help but think you were just running off for the hell of it again." He sighed, his blue eyes trying to find her face. "I'm sorry about Beth, I'm so sorry. You have to believe me, I didn't mean anything I said. I'm sorry, okay? I'm so sorry."
She was crying again, and he frowned when she let out a sob. "No, no, Ana-" He went to grab her shoulder, but she jumped up from the seat and darted across the room, wrapping her arms around herself as she tried suppressing her cries.
He stood up quickly and followed her half way, his eyes filling with tears as she let out a harsh sob.
Ana's hands went to her hair, and she gasped for breath as she tried steadying her burning tears. "I can't- oh God, I can't do it." She cried, pulling at her hair.
"Do what?" He said in a panic, desperate to help her. "What can I-
His voice cut off as her hearing went slack, and she turned as she held a hand to her weak stomach. She wasn't even upset about what he had said, because she did understand his reasoning. Maybe the bitch part was a little much, but she had called him worse. Beth's death had been another big, bright reminder that good things were often taken from her. It was a continuous cycle, one she didn't think would ever end.
Her parents had died, her friends had died, and it was only a matter of time before Michael did.
She didn't realize it, but she was having a panic attack. Tears boiled down her face, and her cries were mixed with gasps as her hands pulled at the thin fabric that covered her chest. She was pacing relentlessly, and she jumped away when Michael grabbed her face.
"No, no, I-" She fought for her breath, short cries leaving her as she moved away from him.
"Ana, listen to me!" He begged her, worry bubbling from the surfaces. "I'm sorry for what I said-" He continued on with his words, telling her how sorry he was and that he didn't mean it. But he didn't realize that wasn't what she was so upset over.
These were feelings that she had been building up over time, feelings that should have remained buried. Today had been her breaking point, and they were all pouring from her one by one.
She cringed as she listened to his words, her fingers clawing at the fabric on her chest. She was gasping for breath, and she started scratching the area around her neck as she panicked. "I- oh God, get it off me!" She shrieked, pulling at her dress harshly. "Get it off me! I can't breath!"
Michael's eyes filled with his own panic, and he quickly ran to her as she tried pulling the dress off of herself. "Get it- I can't-"
He spun her around quickly, grabbing the neckline of her dress. He gripped it in his hands, tearing it in two as she shoved it off of herself. She doubled over, and he caught her by the waist as they both fell to the floor. Loud sobs heaved out of her chest, and Michael couldn't understand why she was so upset. He knew she had cared for Beth, but was she really this upset?
"Ana, what can I do?" He panicked, holding her tight as he spoke in her ear. "What's wrong? Talk to me, talk to me."
God, it was so painful, and her ribs felt like they were cracking one by one. "I can't..I c-" She hyperventilated out words, and he pushed her hair out of her face so he could see her.
"Can't what? What can't you do?" He rushed, holding her flush against him.
She couldn't loose him, she absolutely could not. It was bright in her mind, and she only cried out more sobs as her fingers clawed at her neck. "I can't- I can't lose you!" She choked out, large inhales of breath leaving her.
His eyes narrowed deeply at her words, and he tucked his chin in her shoulder as he held her through her tears. He didn't do it often, and she wasn't even aware of when he did it, because truthfully, he felt guilty for it. Her mind was her own, and he had no right to be poking around in it. Still, he needed to know what she had going on up in her head. Otherwise, they would be on that floor for hours.
He closed his eyes as he pushed back the barriers of her mind, the sound of her cries shutting down as the room went quiet for his ears. The images went by fast, and only his advanced mind would be able to pick them up. Her emotions were overwhelming, feelings of heartache and loss, worry of what was to come. Beth kept popping up, along with Charlie and Helena; he was almost positive he saw Ruthie in there too. He could see it now, she wasn't upset about his words. Which truth be told, he would rather her be upset over that than what she was thinking now. His eyes snapped open, a breath leaving him as he blinked.
"Listen to me." He snapped out of his daze, sitting back as she leaned against his chest. "You're not losing me." He told her, his arms wrapping around her waist as she sobbed. "You're not, I swear it."
She was too upset to hear his words, too panicked over her lack of breathing. Michael grabbed her hand with his, placing it on her chest. "Breathe." He swallowed, speaking calmly despite her shouting cries. "Come on, just breath with me. Breath, Anastasia. You have to calm down." His heart was racing wildly, his eyes closing as he begged for her to breathe along with him.
Her bloodshot eyes were wide with tears, and she choked on her breathing as she tried to follow his introductions, focusing on the feeling of his hand against her bare chest. He coaxed her through it for almost five minutes, repeating soft words and kissing her shoulder as she caught back her breath. She was still sobbing, but he was happy she could get air into her lungs.
"Promise you won't leave me." She cried broken-heartedly, her body leaning against his chest. "Promise me, promise me."
"I promise." He assured her, speaking firmly into her ear. He was holding her so tightly, he was surprised she hadn't shattered in his arms. "I'm not leaving you, Ana. We're ending the world together, remember? You're my partner in this, I need you."
She sobbed as she fisted the fabric covering his knee. "I can't l-loose anyone else. I can't, I can't-"
"You won't." He pressed his cheek against hers.
"I'm here with you."
She whimpered against him, and she turned to look into his eyes. "How do you know?"
His hand moved from her waist, cupping the side of her face. "Because I do. I'm not going anywhere, I'm not leaving. It's just me and you. No witches, no students, just me and you." He pierced his eyes into her red, shiny ones. "Just me and you, sitting on this uncomfortable floor at Hawthorne, remember? With your piano." He listed off, giving a wave of his hand as Claire De Lune started playing.
The keys played gently throughout the room, and Ana's cries quieted down as he kissed the corner of her mouth. "I promise." He said again, his lips kissing away the tears on her face. "I promise you, always. It'll always be us."
He held her like that for why seemed like eternity, and even if it had, he wouldn't have minded. Her head had rested against his shoulder, where he kissed her neck repeatedly and whispered the words she wanted to hear. Digging into her brain had helped him make sense of what had happened, and it was her old feelings greeting him in the most unfortunate way.
Michael had always worried before, almost about every little detail. But he was always sure of himself when it came to his mission, the mission to protect his girl. There was no doubt in his mind about it. And even now, after her breakdown, he still didn't. However, she had scared him, and there was a tiny voice that screamed in his head, what if?
When she had fallen asleep, he moved to lean against the wall and laid her in his lap. His fingers combed through her hair, his eyes observing the remnants of her sorrow. He knew his destiny would be fulfilled, it was fate, and he couldn't not protect Anastasia. But that voice still remained screaming in the back of his head.
He glanced down at her, making sure she was asleep before he let out his own sobs.
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i was sad today, so that means you all have to be too🤠🤪
anyways, hey besties! how was your day? mine was total shit🤩
this chapter was a lot, but i was glad i got to add the tiny snippet of jasper and fiona because i miss them lmfao. rip beth what a legend you were<3
also, last night i spent hours coming up with how the upcoming chapters will be with like the "cooperative michael phase", if you will. it's gonna be so mf crazy i'm so excited😭
i start my new job tuesday, and i'm going to be running a flower department all by my lonesome. #adultthings
love u bffs!!