Beta'd by rainingtearsofchocolate and TheLastGoodUsername! For Kaye. :)
It was the year 1978. Vikram Kabra and Cora Wizard were studying at Oxford University, and met to do a research project each Tuesday.
On this particular Tuesday, however, an interesting conversation occurred.
"Have you ever realized that no one can have absolute power?" Cora asked her longtime friend, Vikram. They had been friends ever since childhood and now were in university together.
"No. I believe that sometime, somewhere in the near future, someone in this world can possess it... if he gets Fate's strings," Vikram replied, sitting on his chair, doing his homework.
Cora whipped around, snapping her book shut. "He?"
"Yes. He," Vikram replied emotionlessly. "A woman is not able to take control of the world. They don't have enough willpower to do so."
A rather uncomfortable silence dawned between them.
"... I'm a woman."
"I do realize that, Cora."
"Do you mean that I don't have enough willpower to take control of this world?" she demanded, anger hidden beneath her voice.
"Yes. However, it is not like you would ever actually want the power," his eyes were black with a blazing hunger as he spoke. "I know you do not want it, so why trying to even argue with me?" Vikram closed his textbook, put his homework inside the folder and turned off the lights.
It was quiet and everything was still. Not even breathing could be heard.
"Well, goodnight, Cora."
"Goodnight, Vikram."
Both didn't fall asleep when Cora left his room. Both knew who the "he" Vikram was talking about was.
"What do you mean I was never your friend?" Cora looked up at Vikram, astonished. "We knew each other since childhood! We went to the beach together, we went to school together, we did EVERYTHING together!"
He just stared at her, eyes dead. "No. My parents forced me to do so. If I do become your friend, they said, we can look at your branch status without being suspicious. They even changed their last names, middle names, and first names to adapt to the new plans."
"YOU! YOU W-WRETCHED BASTARD!" Cora screamed now, eyes blazing with fury and tears threatening to spill. Immediately Vikram's eyes hardened (even more) and he grabbed her wrists, not allowing her to escape, or, in this case, not allowing her to do anything at all.
"What did you just call me?" he whispered silently, making Cora wishing she never said it. But it felt good to express yourself once in a while.
Cora shook, frightened. "A–"
He slapped her. Hard. She felt it, her cheeks reddening, her heart shattering a little bit. She felt it all. Not one single part was spared.
So she cried. She started to cry, legs buckling and sliding down onto the carpet, hands still pinned. Just when she opened her eyes a little bit, Cora thought she saw Vikram's eyes slightly relenting. Maybe there's hope, Cora thought. But when she blinked again, he was as hard as titanium metal. All her hope tore itself and fluttered to the ground.
He released her and walked away, closing the door silently and gently, always leaving with grace, leaving her alone in the dark room that dripped with hate.
Maybe remorse, too.
Just maybe.
"You dare invite me to your wedding?" Cora hissed as she glared at Vikram while he was fixing his suit to make it straighter. Nevertheless, she couldn't resist to, could not resist to see who stole Vikram's heart away from her.
If even she did.
However, Vikram's bride could just be a tool.
"Yes. And I suppose you wanted to see my wedding, too, since you came. Well, welcome." He solemnly nodded.
Cora sighed, more or less defeated. What could she do? Ruin it? There probably were bombs and hidden guns all over here, and she swore that half the people who came to the wedding wouldn't be afraid to use it. They were probably spies, too.
She glanced around. There was an old grandma, but she too looked very suspicious, so Cora counted her in that group, too.
"Please sit down on one of the leather chairs. It would be very rude for you not to do so," Vikram said after a moment of steady silence. She glared at him one last time before sitting on a vanilla-colored chair near the front, reserved for her. A couple of moments later, the priest came into view and Saint Paul's Catholic Church burst into polite applause.
He went to the center and picked up the book of marriage lying on the small, wooden desk. He began half-reading, half-reciting the verses, and Cora's mind wandered off. When his voice burst into the final words, she heard clapping all around her so she clapped, too, silently seething with quiet fury.
She got a good view of the bride. Her name was Isabella Hollyworth- or something close to that, and she looked beautiful with her tanned skin lining with the snow white color of her dress and veil. Her lips were painted a vivid red, and she looked amazing.
It was like looking at Queen Victoria.
Except it was not.
Her lips were lifted up like a dreadful smirk, and her brown eyes were just as hard and cold as Vikram's. She could tell that there was no compassion in any part of her body. Frigid and untouchable – the Ice Princess had become the Ice Queen.
They are the perfect pair for sure, Cora thought, stifling a small giggle. Then she realized that he was the person she wanted to marry. To have a life with. Instantly her giggles turned into sobs. Other people looked at her with "happiness," too.
They thought she was sobbing because of the happiness the marriage had brought.
They thought wrong. Completely and utterly wrong.
When the priest said that the bride and the groom could kiss, Cora's heart was at her throat, yet she could not close her eyes to avoid what was going to happen next.
When the lips met, tan to red, her heart shattered to pieces, organs and all.