"Misty! Would you just stand still for one minute?"
Zoe was on the verge of losing her patience as she watched the frantic swamp witch hurtle past her. The agitation guiding her voice barely corroded through the scuffling and banging that pursued Misty as she flitted along the corridors, bursting through the elaborate doorways; disappearing and re-appearing without registering the slightest indication that she'd heard anything Zoe had said.
This scenario had entrapped the two witches seemingly endlessly since Cordelia had fallen ill and Zoe was failing miserably to garner Misty's attention. She inhaled deeply before engaging in a final attempt to intercept Misty's incessant hurrying.
"Shit!" escaped a cry from the kitchen, accompanied by the sound of shattering china. "Goddamn it."
Zoe bent herself around the doorway in hesitant inspection. "Oh, let me help you clear that up," she sighed, stepping carefully over the broken shards towards the cabinets and searching vigorously for a dust pan to collect the debris.
"No, no, it's alright, Zoe. I'm just helping Miss Cordelia while she's put out." Misty glanced up briefly, a strained but grateful smile embellishing her face. She swept the remains of the china plate into a delicate pile on the floor and rested a knee to the ground. Sparing only a few seconds to rest her grubby hand against her head, she then leapt to grab the dust pan from Zoe.
"Just hold on!" Zoe snapped, clutching Misty's wrist before she could take off again. "Relax, Misty. You don't have to do everything by yourself. Besides, Cordelia wants to talk to you."
"She does?"
Zoe nodded amiably, raising her eyebrows at Misty's wistfulness. She watched as the swamp witch separated from her grasp and veered over to the opposite side of the kitchen. Latching onto the handle of a cabinet, she clambered onto the counter whilst scrunching up the base of her skirt and hoisting the fabric over her knees. Releasing the handle of the cabinet, she snatched a small bowl from within and slid back onto the ground.
"Thank you, Zoe," she said earnestly, before dashing into the corridor; a whirlwind convulsing the floorboards as she departed.
Two swift knocks rattled on the heavy door, sharply and impatiently disturbing the air.
"Miss Cordelia?"
The door cracked open and Misty slid her head dutifully around its frame. She leaned delicately through the gap, scanning Cordelia's face for permission to enter. The room's lucid glow captured the patterns on each of Misty's rings, refracting short gleams of light into the ethereal dusk. Her intuitive eyes focused themselves on Cordelia, who was serenely nestled amongst an arrangement of blankets on her bed. The covers enfolded the troubled witch within them, offering merited protection against the tensions lingering within the coven. She stirred briefly from beneath them at the disturbance of the opening door.
A transient look of concern graced Misty's face as she edged the door shut and flitted over to check on Cordelia. Her bare feet pattered across the floorboards almost unnoticeably; a small bowl balancing in the palm of her hands. She transferred the slight weight of the china into one hand as she approached the bed, proceeding to the lean against the post adorning its corner.
"Miss Cordelia, Zoe told me you wanted to talk. I, um, brought you somethin' from the green house," said Misty. She jolted slightly as Cordelia unfurled herself from the tight grasp of the blankets.
"Thank you, Misty," replied Cordelia, softly. She propped herself up against the cushions, patting them loosely into shape. "I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done for the Coven since I fell ill. You have helped this Coven more in the short time you've been here than most of the girls who have lived at the Academy for months."
Misty swayed nervously on the balls of her feet. "I did it for you, Miss Cordelia. I've learnt so much from you since I arrived. I'm really grateful for all your help – that's why I bought you these," she said; an undeniable ebb of gratitude pouring from her. She swung around the post and offered the bowl to Cordelia.
Reaching willingly for the bowl, Cordelia ran her mismatched eyes over its contents. Within the sleek bowl rested a handful of vibrant purple berries, arranged as ornaments at its base. The nervous swamp witch gestured for her to take one, releasing the post from her grasp and stumbling slightly forward, narrowly avoiding another breakage of china. Misty pressed the bowl intently towards Cordelia, letting go once it had been safely handed over.
"You may sit down, Misty. God knows, you must be exhausted!" Cordelia giggled as she watched Misty shift daintily on her toes, her restless streak as alert as ever.
Misty perched herself abruptly on the edge of the bed. After wriggling for a few more seconds, she spun around and observed Cordelia rigidly.
"Are you feelin' any better? You still look awfully pale," she asked. Her inquisitive gaze fixed itself on Cordelia, whose distinct cheeks still retained a pale murkiness in the wake of her illness. She knelt over the mound of blankets and pressed her palm against Cordelia's forehead, scavenging for a clearer indication of her wellbeing.
Cordelia's initial response to the unexpected rush of attention was withdrawal, yet the conviction deep beneath Misty's ubiquitous eyes evoked her compliance. Instinctively setting down the china bowl beside her, Cordelia recovered Misty's hands and held them in front of her. There was warmth within their spiritual closeness which seemed foreign to the perpetually solitary souls.
"I better get back an' help Zoe – I, I dropped some things that I still gotta clear up..."Misty replied hastily, attempting to tear away from the unfamiliar affection.
"Misty! I'd like you to stay here with me. You've done enough and we're very grateful. Zoe will manage just fine."
Cordelia's eloquent reassurance alleviated the atmosphere of its apprehensions; a peace within the two witches settling like dust from disorder. A crest of feeling had intercepted their encounter as they welcomed the comfort of their interactions.
Misty sat cross-legged on the covers, admiring the seams of Cordelia's palms. An emulative glow had begun to embrace her skin and Misty traced its route with her fingertips. She fell closer to Cordelia, who reciprocated the same placid movement into Misty's shoulder. The swamp witch rested her head against Cordelia's neck; the relief of their encounter awakening a liminal consciousness between them.
She settled as the dusk clung passively to the furniture. In opposition, Cordelia's heightened emotions negotiated themselves into the forefront of her mind and urged humbly for an extension of affection.
"Thank you, Misty Day," Cordelia whispered, planting a temperate kiss onto her forehead. "Lux mea."
With unfathomable eyes barely open, Misty grinned to herself. She had no idea what Cordelia had said, but there was no denying its unflinching beauty.