EPICARICACY- that slight feeling of joy one gets from the misfortune of other people.
There was very little joy to be found in the life of Lucy Westenra these days. It all seemed to be a blur of pink and orange and flowers and weddings; days mixed into nights as she tried ever so hard not show that she was utterly broken but instead merely slightly defeated.
So to Mr. Grayson and Mr. Harker she smiled and pretended she was fine and flitted around, far too excited about the colour of the table cloths at the wedding and she hoped that this was enough. She hoped that the boys didn't try and see what was behind her smile that didn't quite light up her face, or the somber look she found herself adopting when backs were turned because if anyone were to know, to question, to find out the truth, then her reputation would be ruined, her mother furious and the family distraught.
It grew harder as Mina once again found her way into Lucy's life. After the confessions of that night, Mina had grown distant. But they had talked and Lucy had pretended everything was alright and that her heart wasn't ripped into little shreds and that she wanted Mina as a friend and a friend only. So Mina slithered once more into her everyday life and Lucy had to try that much harder to appear normal.
She started drinking. A lot. Every night. There was nothing else to do anyway: sleep was proving particularly elusive, so she drowned in Absinthe and Opium and the backstreet dens where she could do as she wished without too many prying eyes well into the morning hours. And these nightly excursions took their toll: bags hung under her eyes, colour drained from her skin, hair became disheveled, appearance faltered as Lucy started not to care.
Grayson noticed. He sent silent carriages to pick her up, a gesture she did not care to acknowledge seeing as the man had the nerve to tear her only love from her clutches. Though some small section of her mind did rank him higher than Harker, who for his part seemed to have increased in his general misogynistic ways: how Mina put up with him was beyond Lucy.
Lady Wetherby noticed. She was there for Lucy in an entirely different manner. Their meet ups were frequent: more than twice a week certainly. There was little talk between the two, merely a frenzied, angry crashing of limbs and bodies and pain to take away more pain. Every so often Wetherby would try to address Lucy's deterioration but in vain: Lucy would leave, offering an angry response and a slammed door.
Mina herself noticed the change but daren't utter a word, particularly considering she was the cause. There was an overwhelming sense of guilt but nothing she could do: it was not her fault she could not reciprocate. So she held her tongue when Lucy traipsed into Grayson's parlor ready for wedding talk with her hair hanging loose, hat missing, coat undone and dirty footwear. And when Lucy's biting remarks (directed at everyone but Mina herself) once again resurfaced, Mina would merely look at Lucy. Not even a warning glare. A look. Because quite frankly, she didn't deserve to tell the girl off for something she was well within rights to do considering Lucy possessed what Mina presumed was a burning hatred for Harker that fell just short of ripping his head from his body.
Lucy was rather tame considering.
But it was in these remarks that Lucy found her greatest pleasure, pleasure that was so often denied her these days. She may have lost her love, but she could make life as uncomfortable as possible for Harker and Grayson. It was to her utmost delight that Harker snatched Mina from a waiting Grayson: that look of longing and heartbreak that flitted across Grayson's face was one of those things Lucy enjoyed most in this world. Or the way Grayson would lead Mina away from a stupefied Harker as they whispered in science and medicine, Harker looking distraught at the loss of his possession, his Mina.
And when she herself entered the fray, the gleam would once again return to her eyes and a genuine smirk would grace her face for just a moment. With her words she would take great, gaping bites out of two fabulously oversized and fragile egos while extracting a simply delightful chuckle from Mina who daren't show any more joy at Lucy's antics. And Lucy would feel, just for a second, that Mina loved her, enjoyed her company most and cared most for her.
It was from these small victories Lucy derived joy, these insignificant little fragments of hope that were helping her to simply… keep going.