Disclaimer: This is loosely based off of my friends forum, Rogue. The character Ember is mine, I do not own any others included.
. . .
Lost was Ember's first friend.
They grew very fond of each other, sharing their feelings, hanging out.
But they both had fallen in love with Storm. That was what tore their friendship apart.
Ember hadn't known Storm also liked Lost.
She saw them one night, laying side by side under the light of a half-moon.
Her eyes filled with sadness, then hate and jealousy.
Her heart had torn in two.
For the first few days after the event, Ember faked her kindness towards the two, her eyes emotionless beneath her cover. It was like a layer of kindness, masking her inwards hate and fear. Fear her two friends would abandon her.
Abandon her through their love.
Now, at one point the three had all been mentally ill or other. Lost and Storm eventually got rid of their insanity. Lost's by death. Storm's went away with time.
But Ember never did.
She never showed it.
Never showed any signs of her insanity.
She had faked recovery.
She still heard her mother.
Still heard the soft, devilish voice of the she-cat.
After Lost had been murdered by Ember's own mother, the remaining she-cat and Storm grew closer.
Ember drew him in, going insane with her love for him.
But she never showed it, no. She hid it.
Hid it all.
Her eyes always seamed to be glazed over with crazed love, under her layer of paint.
The point in time came when Storm admitted his love for her.
She did too.
She finally had won him over, pride and satisfaction overtook her.
Until she remembered.
Remembered her one fatal mistake.
Lost.
She killed Lost.
She had told her mother to come back, murder her friend in a set up to 'kill' her daughter.
Just for him.
Just for Storm.
She knew that if Storm found out, her life and love would be ruined.
All of it.
Now, you read back and see 'her fatal mistake'. Fatal?, you ask. Fatal because she died.
I know what you're going to say. 'But she's still alive in the current roleplay!'
Not exactly.
That's just her paint.
Her layer of paint that had covered her true, insane self.
That insane part of her had died and left, leaving her with just a shell.
A fake, hollow shell.
That's what she is now.
A fake, hollow shell.
A faker.
A faker for love.