Because I can
On a Sunday morning, at Cackle's Academy for young witches, Mildred Hubble awoke with energy. Finally, a day that she could spend with her friends without being yelled at by HB! Without suffering in a potion class during an exam, without the pain of running into the woods with their P.E. teacher; a day without her ears hurting because of Miss Bat's singing! A normal day.
Mildred got out of bed with a huge smile, ready to do sweet nothing all day long with Maud, Ruby, Jadu and Enid. Maybe even Fenella and Griselda, too, if they weren't too busy planning something amazing and potentially dangerous!
She was so happy with this perfect day ahead of her, that she didn't even notice it was only 4 a.m! She stormed out of her room with her stuff to go and take a shower, when she ran straight into Miss Hardbroom.
"Watch your feet, girl!" barked the older witch, looking even paler and thinner than usual.
"Sorry Miss Hardbroom... But... Are you okay Miss?" asked Mildred while getting her things with shame, things who were all over the floor.
"Perfectly fine, Mildred. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have unfinished business to attend to." replied the potion Mistress in a hurry.
Without looking back at the pupil, Miss Harbroom turned on her heels, her long black hair floating behind her.
Mildred looked at her with worried eyes; after all, she was a student up after lights out... and she wasn't even dead or grounded! No lines to write, no floor to wash with her own toothbrush. Nothing!
Somehow, the usually fierce teacher wasn't in her natural state. But what was the matter with Constance Hardbroom?
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Something was the matter with the powerful witch, indeed. It has been a rough week, with a lot of stress to deal with; Constance knew that she was coming to visit the Academy soon, but didn't know when exactly. The wait was unbearable. The woman knew what to expect, and yet she was still incredibly afraid; not that she'll ever admit it, of course.
But for the first time in her entire life, she wasn't afraid for herself. In fact, she couldn't care less about her own safety right now, because someone else's was far more important.
When Constance opened her chamber's wooden door, she felt a little bit less anxious. She was home, where no one could reach her, where no one could touch her... Well, unless if she wanted to.
The tall witch closed the door behind her, the action followed by her fingers casting a spell to light the candles in her bedroom. She wasn't suppose to use magic for such small matters... but she liked it. She felt complete when she did, in control.
She was about to get ready for the night and undress when she saw a small silhouette lying in her bed. Constance's eyebrows frowned, taking in sight the woman with short blond hair and tanned skin, who was looking back at her with piercing green eyes.
Constance's gaze softened as soon as she saw her lover's eyes. The non-witch had this effect on her; calming her down instantly, forcing her to relax with a simple look.
"Imogen, what are you doing here?" whispered the witch while sitting down on her bed, taking the blonde's hand in her own.
"Waiting for you, actually. I talked to Amelia this morning, about your rather strange behavior those past days." said the non-witch with a soft voice, stroking Constance's pale hand with her thumb.
"I am not acting strange!" said the tall woman with the high-pinched voice she took when she was on the defensive.
"Oh, come on! You've been ignoring me for a week. It hurts, you know." replied Imogen, pouting and using all of her talents to do the puppy eyes.
There was a long silence between the two women, during which Imogen regained her serious face, Constance closing her eyes because it was too much for her. Too much to imagine that, if the worst happened, those sparkling green eyes wouldn't sparkle anymore.
"I know she's coming back, Constance." confessed the non-witch with a small voice.
That was enough. The older woman snatched her hand away from Imogen's, standing, tall and impressive, beside the bed.
"Out." she commanded calmly, magically opening the door for the non-witch to understand.
"Constance, don't do this now. Don't push me away when you need all the support you can get..." pleaded the blonde, getting on her feet to encircle her girlfriend's waist with her bare arms.
"Miss Drill. I want you out at this very instant." she asked with her cold-hearted voice, a voice she hadn't used in quite a while in her lover's presence.
Constance waited in silence, looking anywhere but in the short blonde's eyes. Of course, Imogen knew better than to argue with a stubborn and close-minded Constance Hardbroom, so she intended to go out without a word, still daring to press a warm kiss on her witch's lips.
She didn't flinch until the door was closed behind her tenacious companion. The broken witch sat on her bed without being really conscious of the consequences of rejecting Imogen, her mind racing at full speed to find some kind of solution to her bigger preoccupation. But there wasn't. There could only be problems with Heckitty Broomhead's return.
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