Ever After
~Pinkhearter
How many times had he and Doug been at her side? How many times had she watched as Lily had clung to his shoulder? How many times had he stopped her from doing something reckless and stupid? How many times could her heart beat before she dropped everything and cried?
She stared at the sky, which gave her no answers, immune to the silent mourning going on behind her. Sometimes they would start a conversation, like they had before, and she would listen as it died off into a whisper of wind through the open window. She loved Lily. She really did. Lily was like the younger sister she never had. All of the Baskervilles were family to her—the family she lacked. And she loved them all.
But sometimes—was it okay—to hate them? And if not them—could she hate their choices?
She had heard the whole account from Lily, and she had gritted her teeth and clenched her hands together into fists, and stalked away, and struggled not to breath the frustrated groan she felt climbing up her throat. And Lily had cried those fake, alligator tears that she just knew were feigned, and Vincent had laughed heartlessly, and Doug had stood silently by.
Again, Vincent said something to start a conversation—plans for the future, their next mission, and everything Lotti did not want to hear right now. She felt the wind drift through the window and blow her hair behind her.
Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if Glen had never ordered them to slay all those people. If Glen had never gone down that road that led to the Tragedy of Sabrie. Could they be alive, happy, sad, living? And Fangwould be here now, unscathed, unchanged, and they would still be the family serving Glen that she had always wanted to be a part of.
And as she heard the rest of the Baskervilles slowly build and join the conversation, and join Vincent and his petty desires to move on—she realized what hurt the most was—she was the only one who felt this way. Momentarily forgetting she wasn't alone, Lotti drove the tears down, and hated herself for almost crying in the first place. "So stupid," she said under her breath.
"Say something, Lotti?" Vincent asked, smoothly as if he had just waited for her to break down like this.
She forced the glare on her face before turning, and hand on her hip, she pierced his one gold eye and one red eye, and faced the "family" that didn't care. "Not to you," she said in spite, and plopped down on a chair next to the table. She pointedly ignored Lily's questioning gaze.
No, Lily. It isn't okay. It never will be okay. Not until you realize what you did, and accept the guilt. Because I can't take it all on my own. I can't. I wasn't there in time to get everyone out. I arrived, seconds after. And all it could have taken was less time analyzing Break's actions, less time taunting Isla Yura, less time being so, so stupid. And if I have to live with this, so do you, Lily. Because all you had to do was run.
Lily wasn't sorry. And in that single moment, Lily probably understood everything. And didn't care. "I think we should move fast," Lily declared, and watched for Vincent's reaction. "I mean, it's not like they didn't have heavy losses too! They won't be ready. It's perfect!" A bright, stupid smile on her face.
Smirking, Vincent nodded in agreement. "For once, you've made a good decision, Lily," he said, earning himself a childish glare. "Not only that, but they won't be expecting an attack right after we've lost one of our most valuable assets." Fuck you.
He said it to bother her, she knew it. He said it to get on her nerves, make her crumble and sway from that out-there, indignant, flirtatious persona she had manifested under the horror surrounding her. Underneath, he knew that she wanted to murder him—murder everyone in this fucking room for having some part in Fang's death—and he wanted her to explode.
"I'm leaving," she spat, and he smiled dearly at her.
"Lotti, noo," cried Lily.
She would never forgive her. Never. "Get away from me," she seethed, and left, like that. She didn't go far. It wasn't as if she really had anywhere to go. Not without the Baskervilles. But anywhere was better than there, and she really just wanted to breathe for a few long moments. She almost had the chance, as the sun set, and the moon approached, until a shy voice broke into her thoughts.
"Lotti-san?"
She didn't turn.
"Vincent-sama said Lotti-san would be near. Echo was ordered to give you a message from him."
Really, she cursed inwardly. But her body twisted around and faced the Nightray servant, and smirked. The girl's eyes widened slightly, and if Lotti hadn't known to look for it, she wouldn't have noticed, along with the girl's attempt to step back that she suppressed quickly. "Really," Lotti said in a mocking tone. "And what would he have to say to me?"
Echo remained silent only for two short seconds before speaking. "Vincent-sama wishes Lotti-san to return, and finish the meeting."
"Well, guess what?" Lotti answered, sweetly smiling. "I'm not going to. Go on. Go tell him that."
"Echo is not allowed to return unless Lotti-san returns."
Lotti flipped around again, her back to Echo, and she glared at the sky that still gave her no answers. "That bastard," she fumed, because she knew it would be wrong to refuse to return now and leave the servant girl forbidden from returning to Vincent, but she also didn't really care, because now she knew Zwei was in there somewhere, and Zwei would care less about Fang's death just like everyone else, and so she couldn't help but want to murder Zwei too, let alone spareZwei's body punishment. And it made her feel like . . .
Like a horrible person.
Because maybe if she'd tried harder—for all her sick, twisted fantasies of it being everyone else's fault—she knew that really it was her fault. Fang might be alive, and that dream of one last time with Glen and everyone as a family—it might still come true, and now it wouldn't. And she didn't really hate Lily, or Doug, or even Vincent, and especially not that harmless girl standing behind her.
She really hated herself.
"Lotti-san . . ."
With a startled gasp, she realized she was crying, and she realized that Fang would never want her to be crying over him. His smiling face, his apologetic words—she pictured them, repeatedly, and breathed, and cried, and "that bastard," she said for him going off getting killed and making her cry. Frantically, she wiped the tears away, and glared at the ever-watching Echo. Echo, not Zwei.
"Okay, let's go," Lotti said, and returned to where the others were waiting for her. She nodded at Doug, and allowed Lily to cling to her like the older sister she had somehow become, and maybe . . .
Maybe now was enough.
