The heavenly aroma of my favorite flavor of cappuccino had filled the kitchen while I stood ready for the brew to finish filling my coffee cup. My hand slipped between the cup and handle and began to tingle against the warmth the cappuccino was producing. I was happy to see my favorite cup was sitting in the cabinet, a pink cup decorated in images of ballet, and seemed untouched like my bedroom. The evidence was gray and stale and blanketed the cup in a thick layer of dust. It wasn't until I washed it off and dried it that I began making something warm to drink. Now that my cup was full, I pulled it out from the espresso machine and carried it with me to the library located in the living room.
I found myself standing in the spot I usually found myself when I was a teenage girl. The library was my favorite place to be. I remember, when I would stand here and wait for my father to bring me back books. I was so happy and yet that feeling felt numb now. The books were also covered in a forgotten and hurt layer of dust. I was the only one who read from books. My mu-ma didn't bother with books and my father was too busy to read. Elliot was quite fond of books and we would often read together in the garden under the trees.
He's sixteen years old and only four years younger than I was. Being twenty, and thinking back to that time when I was his age and he being younger, I suppose it used to be a simpler time in our lives. But now that he was attending Duel Academy and I lived across the world; the books really had no purpose anymore than to be paper weights and decorate the bookcase.
Reaching from my side, I pulled off one of the many books and blew off most of the dust it had gathered. Le Cygne Et La Princesse. My favorite book that I would read to Elliot on those days where we could be free and be ourselves. Mu-ma wanted Elliot to be a musician and I an opera starlet. Both dreams were fulfilled yet sadly, it didn't bring happiness to neither my brother nor I. I enjoyed singing and dancing but it might have been the illusion my mu-ma cast over me; being my teacher. Peering down, I stared at the embroidered letters of the book's cover.
"The Swan Princess," I whispered. The book strangely reminded me of the curse Kazama desperately wanted to break that was cast upon me. My book began to shake in my hand but I realized it was actually my hand quivering and not the book. I took a moment to breathe yet it seemed like it wouldn't work.
I've been cursed for four years now and nothing I did seem to matter.
Tucking the book under my arm, I traveled from the living room and went to the entrance hallway of my home. I breathed in and then out before taking a hold of the doorknob with my free hand and twisting it. I let myself out and closed the door behind me. It was getting dark and I knew the boys would return home soon. Walking several paces forward and down a single stair, on the staircase that lead up to my house from the sidewalk, I took a seat at the top step. I breathed in and breathed out. I took a sip of my cappuccino and pulled out my book from under my arm. Placing the cup down, I turned to the first page of the book and began reading from the top of chapter one. Every so often I would pick my cup up and drink a sip of my cappuccino before turning a page in the book. I knew the words by heart, and would often recite them on cue. My mu-ma would even cast me as the swan in Swan Lake and would call me her little swan princess when I had pleased her.
My eyes grew heavy and for a moment, I almost forgot I was holding my cup. I placed the empty porcelain cup down and turned a page in my book, realizing I was at chapter four.
"Colette!" I heard my name being called by Kazama. I raised my gaze and found him pouring in through the picket fence surrounding my yard and hauling forward at me with a large smile painting itself onto the lips I've become familiar with.
"K-Kaz." I squeaked, the moment he collided into my body and hugged me against his own body. He held me in his arms for a moment before pulling back, revealing that his smile was now in a cool grin.
"Miss me?" He asked, softening his brown orbs against the setting rays of the sun. He brought his hand to the level of his eye, shielding out the piercing light.
"Oui, beaucoup." I answered, smiling.
"I recognize yes but what's the second word?" Kazama asked another question but in his voice I could hear how tired he was. I frowned at this as I realized it was my fault he felt this way. "It means, very much."
He grinned, "knew it."
I giggled, receiving a kiss in reward for my translation against my lips. I heard my father walking passed the gate next, and from what I heard, he didn't sound pleased in the idea of his only daughter being kissed right in front of him.