Day 5

Her feeble mind only allowed her a small amount of sleep. In the morning, her makeup and the grace of Supremacy didn't suffice for concealing the fatigue on her face. She tried her hardest to hide it from the girls at breakfast. But the truth was, they simply paid due respect to their Supreme and remained silent about it. Cordelia knew this, and felt thankful and impotent at the same time.

Queenie had a different idea of respect, though, apparently. "You look like shit," she said right in her face.

Though Cordelia would've loved to respond with sarcasm, she could only give a heavy nod. Her body didn't possess enough power to even lift her blank gaze from her bowl of oatmeal. It only rose, at last, as the merry voice of Misty reached her ears.

The Cajun entered the dining room, greeting the girls. She wore a black dress Cordelia had never seen. Her eyes met with Queenie's. Since the incident in the kitchen two days ago, they hadn't found a chance for reconciliation. But the grimaces on both of their faces revealed, with eloquence, that neither felt much eager for it anyway. Still, Misty mumbled a 'good morning,' and the Voodoo doll parroted. They agreed on a ceasefire. The Cajun sat next to the Supreme, then. She took an apple from the basket on the table, sinking her teeth in it.

Cordelia forgot about her oatmeal altogether. It felt quite a long ago since they'd sat together like this. What was left of her attention focused on the girl, every small detail of her, not to miss any changes.

Although Misty wore a content smile, her skin seemed to have lost its glow. Her feral curls seemed tamed somehow. And the bruises on her neck seemed darker and bigger than the ones branded in Cordelia's memory. They stood out on the pale skin. So obvious. Nobody bothered to comment on them. But, even without the bruises, something quite unsettling radiated from her, something that made Cordelia's nerves buzz.

"Isn't Ursula with you, Misty?" she said.

"She's getting ready."

So, the potions didn't work, which meant they were going back to square one. Cordelia's heart sank deeper. Of all her failures accumulated since her birth, this one made her feel the shittiest. If she lost Misty again, it'd be the end of the world.

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ."

Cordelia turned her head around to the voice source. Next to her, Misty did the same. They saw Queenie standing behind them, her face contorted into a repulsed frown with a curled lip, her eyes set on the Cajun.

"Cover your back," the Voodoo doll said. "Why the fuck did you think that outfit was appropriate?"

The Supreme followed the gaze and looked at Misty's back, and felt her blood turn into sleet in a flash. The Cajun's dress had very deep U-shaped open back, revealing the vast majority of her upper back. And on the bare skin, Cordelia saw numerous red nail marks that stretched across her shoulder blades. They looked like wings, and Cordelia hated the idea.

"What? Why?" Misty twisted her neck, but couldn't quite get a view.

"As if," the Voodoo doll said. "Ask your sugar mama. She knows exactly what she's doing. I guess those gigantic hickies aren't enough, huh?"

The confused eyes of the girl turned sharp, as she stood up. "I don't know what you're ranting about, but I swear if you ever insult Ursula again—"

But before Misty got to finish the sentence, Kyle rushed to her. As he put his butler jacket on her, he whispered something in her ear. At once, her whole face became red.

"I didn't— I didn't know." She wrapped the jacket tight around her body. She looked at Cordelia. "Ursula wanted me to wear it today. I should go get a shawl."

Just as she took a step forward, however, the Woman walked in.

"No need for it, puppy." A bright red shawl hung from her hand. "I did ask you to wear that dress, but I never said you couldn't match it with a shawl, silly girl." She met Misty halfway, almost tore the jacket off, and draped the shawl around the girl's shoulders. She pecked her on the lips, as though it was the finishing touch.

"Thank you, you're my savior."

Although the Supreme couldn't see Misty's face from her seat, she knew those cheeks were growing red.

"Anything for my little adorable pet." Ursula gave her cheek a stroke with the back of her hand, and another kiss on the lips. "Listen, why don't you spend the morning with your headmistress? I have something to attend to. Is that okay with you, Miss Goode?"

Many pairs of eyes shifted to Cordelia at once. But it was all that the Supreme's brain registered, as she blinked at the abrupt shift of attention. It took a couple of more seconds to dawn on her that they expected a reaction from her.

"Of course," she said at last. In her bewildered state, she caught Misty smiling at her.

The Woman held Misty's chin, and made the girl turn back to her. "Be a good girl, and don't trouble your headmistress," she said.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Misty said. She watched her lover walk away, until they could no longer hear the clicking of her heels. If she had a tail, she'd be wagging it to the fullest. Then, she rushed to Cordelia. "Can we go to the greenhouse now?"

"Of course," Cordelia said.

But someone cleared their throat behind her. The Supreme turned around, and found Queenie giving her a look. She turned back to Misty.

"After the council meeting," she said. "It won't take long. Do you want to wait in the greenhouse?"

Misty gave vigorous nods.

The Supreme and the council members all moved to the office, then, with Misty tagging along. At the door, Cordelia handed the Cajun the keys to the greenhouse.

"Can I play Stevie while I wait for ya?" Misty said. "I saw one o' those weird music boxes on your desk yesterday."

"Of course. Do you know how to use it?"

"Kinda. How many buttons does it have?"

Cordelia found herself smiling at it. "Maybe I can go with you really quickly and show you—"

Queenie cleared her throat. When she got the attention from the Supreme, she raised a brow at her.

"It's alright, Miss Cordelia," the Cajun said. "Promise you'll come soon."

"I promise."

And Misty walked away, holding the keys as though they were treasures. The Supreme watched her. The shawl on her shoulders swayed. As red as the nail marks across her skin underneath it.

Queenie cleared her throat again, with more intention. Cordelia gave the Cajun a final glance, before going back in the office.

"Can I be the first one to say, what the fuck?" Queenie said from her seat in front of the desk.

With a faint sigh, Cordelia closed the door, and sank in her chair. "I understand your frustrations, but you could've done it with more discretion. You only embarrassed her in front of the girls."

"Frustrations? Is that what you want to call it?" The Voodoo doll leaned forward. "Did you actually see the scars? They weren't normal nail marks. Her entire upper back was fucking swollen."

"And is it just me or has she lost weight significantly in the last couple of days?" Zoe said next to her. "I heard her complaining to Kyle that her rings kept falling off."

"The point is," Queenie said, "that Woman obviously gives no shit about Misty. And we gotta do something ourselves. Really, something."

A sigh of exasperation escaped the Supreme's lips. "I know that. I want to save her as much as you do."

"So what do we do?" the Voodoo doll said. "How do we kick her out?"

"I don't know." Cordelia's head reeled. With this case of Ursula and the fatigue working in tandem, she felt like she could burst into tears at any moment. "I'm going to talk to Misty later, to see if there's any more information helpful. But we need to remind ourselves that we are also responsible for the other girls. What we need right now is to get this meeting over with."

So, they started the morning meeting, even though reluctance flooded the room. The topics of the meeting ranged from the smallest quarrels between some girls to the performance of their new teacher, to the Coven's financial state and so on. Not as detailed as one might think, though. They were wise enough to appreciate the value of time, and only used one third of the amount of time deemed necessary for a morning meeting in the corporate world.

Still, it felt twenty times as long to Cordelia's worn-out senses. She itched to finish it. Everything her council members said stayed in her mind only for a second, before flying out of the window. And her patience almost ran out, as the two girls returned to the topic of Ursula at the end of the meeting.

"Speaking of which, that Woman made a sort of huge fuss yesterday," Queenie said. "Probably when she came back from the swamp. The girls were just playing with water guns. Just innocent games. Then she ordered them to stop it, because water hurts her or some shit."

"Hurts her?" Zoe drew her brows together.

"Yeah. What is she, Elphaba Thropp? Of course, I was there, so I made it clear that those girls are no threat to her."

"That's weird." The brunette cast an uncertain glance at the Supreme. "What do you think Ursula could possibly have to attend to anyway?"

"Hell if I know. Washing her whips and dildo?"

At that, Cordelia broke her silence and cleared her throat. It was definitely an image none of them needed. Although she wanted to maintain her dignity, she couldn't stop heat from creeping up her neck.

"Sorry, it slipped," Queenie said.

"Are we done? Anything more to report?"

Zoe flipped through her notes. She looked up with her typical confused grimace. "I don't know if it's any important, but some of the girls complained of moths in their rooms."

"Moths?" Queenie said.

"Not gigantic, but big enough to bother them. I didn't see one myself, so I don't know."

"I have seen it," the Supreme said. "There was one in the greenhouse yesterday, too. If there was more than one, Misty and Ursula might've come home from the swamp with eggs, without knowing."

"What should I tell the girls?"

"Tell them not to use their powers to get rid of them," Cordelia said. "We have lots of deal with right now. I would lose my mind if someone set the house on fire for stupid bugs."

And they had no more to report or to discuss.

ooOooOoo

Cordelia transmuted herself to the greenhouse, right before the door. A heavy sigh escaped her lips.

Although she had felt impatient during the morning meeting, part of her now wished it'd taken more time. That way, she could've bought time, to prepare herself. She didn't feel brave enough, collected enough, to see the girl's face and act nonchalant. Especially now that her hormones were all over the place due to sleep-deprivation. One wrong move, and she might have a massive meltdown.

Her hand rested on the doorknob. From behind the closed door, the melody of Stevie's song came floating. This, at least, made everything a little easier. The image of Misty twirling with her shawl flashed across her mind, and it gave her the courage to push the door open.

The Cajun, however, did not welcome her with a full-blown smile and twirls. Instead, Cordelia found her sitting at the table, with her forehead perched on her folded arm. She remained in this position, and did not move a finger. But her back slightly moved up and down, in a calm, steady rhythm— She was sleeping.

The Supreme found herself at a literal standstill, unsure to even take a step back or forth. While she felt hesitant to disturb the girl's sleep, she also knew Misty would complain if she let her keep sleeping. Either way, it'd make Cordelia feel guilty.

Maybe another ten or twenty minutes . . . I could lie and blame the meeting for it.

She began to walk backwards, grabbing the doorknob behind her. But to her annoyance, the door made a creaking sound, too loud for her liking. She should've oiled the hinges when she could.

"Miss Cordelia?" Misty rubbed her eyes and yawned. She looked around, then, as though feeling disoriented. "What time is it?"

Cordelia sighed. "Only fifteen minutes since we parted," she said, pulling up a chair next to her. With a small distance between them, she could see some marks of the shawl in the Cajun's sunken cheek. "Are you okay? You could go to bed if you need to."

"Nah, I'm fine." Misty yawned again, then gave a huge grin. "I'd rather talk to you than sleep."

"Are you eating well? You didn't even finish the apple at breakfast."

The Cajun only shrugged. "I ain't that hungry in the morning anyway. But maybe, could you make me one o' those Vitalis potions again? I think they worked for some hours yesterday."

Of course, even if the girl believed the portions had restored her energy, it was placebo effect at best. The potions of Disenchantment did not have such side-effect. Her blind faith gave Cordelia a pang of conscience. Still, the truth had to remain in the dark, for Misty's sake.

She agreed to the wish, then, and began to line up her equipment and jars of herbs. She needed no book this time.

Misty came to stand by her. "I wanna help. Do you need me to do anything?"

"Well, I'd like it if you had some rest," Cordelia said, "but you wouldn't listen, would you?"

The Cajun giggled, as she shook the head of wild curls.

"Tear two of these leaves to small pieces in this, then." The Supreme handed her a jar of dried leaves and an empty bowl. And her gentle smile widened a little, when Misty began to work with the familiar enthusiasm.

The Supreme worked at the other desk, her back facing the girl. Soft humming of Misty filled the greenhouse, softening the atmosphere. The music player now played The Kind of Woman, and for a split second, everything felt right, back in its right place, with just two of them in their safe heaven. Cordelia stopped her hands, closed her eyes, and listened to her humming, until the song came to an end. Her heart swelled with gentle warmth, the feeling of coming home.

When she turned around, though, the girl was still tearing a leave. There was a sign of distress in every movement of her fingers, in contrast to the softness of her humming. Cordelia walked closer to her. She gave a blatantly concerned expression with a silent question.

And Misty let out an awkward chuckle at that. "Takin' a lot more time than expected."

"Don't worry about that, but— Is everything okay? Are you sure you don't need sleep?"

"'M okay. Just . . . My joins kinda hurt." Finishing with the leave, Misty clenched and unclenched her fist in front of her face.

In the dim light, the hand indeed seemed like a hand of an elderly person, boney and wrinkled, and with bulging blue veins. Like Zoe had mentioned, those thin fingers uncharacteristically had no rings on them. But there was an exception, her right middle finger.

"I feel like a grandma," Misty said. "I can even hear 'em make squealing noises sometimes."

"I'll put some anti-inflammatory herbs in the potion," the Supreme said, as her eyes travelled between the potion and the sole ring on Misty's finger. It had a rather large orange gemstone, with a peculiar play of light. For some unknown reasons, she felt uneasy at the sight. "Is it Cat's Eye? I've never seen you wear it before."

The Cajun smiled with every muscle of her face. "Ursula let me borrow hers. It's a gift from her benefactor. She says it's a real piece of the sun." She held the ring to the light. "Dunno. Might actually believe her, you know." Her voice sounded dream-like, as the look of mirth and pride adorned her tired face.

The makeshift joy of Cordelia met its end here like this. She looked down, and sped up the pace of her potion making. Gloomy silence surrounded them. She seemed to be the only one aware of it, though, while the Cajun swayed her hips to the music.

She almost gave into her temptation to stay in the silence. Another word of the Woman from Misty would shred her heart and hope beyond repair. But the rational part of her knew they could afford no more of this stagnant, passive silence. Cordelia would rather die than to fail the girl like this.

"So, do you know where Ursula went or what she's doing?" Cordelia kept working, as she wore the pretense of nonchalance.

The Cajun chuckled. "You really are eager ta know about her, yeah? Sorry to disappoint you, though, 'cause she ain't doing nothing special."

"What do you mean?"

"She didn't tell me, but I know," Misty said, with a proud smile. "I know it was just an excuse, so I could spend some time with ya. She says all the time that my happiness is real important to her. And you're big part o' my happiness."

This was not the answer Cordelia had expected. She mixed drops of extracted herbal oil into the concoction, feigning to be lost in thought. But Misty's nonchalant confession kept ringing in her mind, and naturally, she felt heat creeping up her neck. How she wished to say the same to the Cajun. How her heart ached to admit her adoration.

"I—"

"Um, Miss Cordelia?" Misty hunched over to peep inside the round flask. "The smoke is rising. What's next?"

"Oh, shit—" The Supreme rushed to it, and covered the opening with her palm. An awkward laugh followed a sigh of relief, as the smoke touched the lid of her palm. "Can't let the smoke escape."

"Almost went up in smoke?"

Cordelia shared a genuine laugh with the girl. "Something like that."

The eyes of the Cajun travelled to the smoke-filled flask. For some seconds, both of them stood, watching as the smoke dissolved back into the potion.

"It gives me relief kinda," Misty said.

Cordelia raised her brows at her.

"You know, you're the almighty Supreme and all. Not just powerful, but you're kind, and super smart. I'd never come close to you, no matter how hard I try. So, it sorta makes me feel better to know you can too make mistakes. Almost, anyway." Her eyes twinkled, with coy, but unashamed stars of affection and pride.

And the gaze penetrated Cordelia's heart. So hard and unexpectedly that she couldn't even think to respond. She just stared at the girl. She felt like crying all of a sudden.

"I'm not as powerful as you believe," she said, her gaze low. "You've seen how miserably helpless I am."

"But that was before you became the Supreme. Even then, it was what they made you believe. I never thought you were ever helpless."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Cordelia remembered the feeling of Fiona's disapproving gaze and the sharp sting of her slap. And in between those smarting sensations, the image of Misty flickered through her mind. You are such an awesome leader, Miss Cordelia.

Nothing had changed since then.

"It doesn't matter," Cordelia said. "That's the real me, a helpless girl whose only talent is to make herbal cocktails, a witch who blinded herself because she didn't have any other way to save a sister witch. That's me, and there'll always be that miserable girl inside me. And—" She laughed, despite the trail of tears rolling down her cheek.

Misty's hand came to wipe the tears away. Her palm felt dry and coarse. But the gentle warmth still remained, and made Cordelia cry even harder. She placed her hand on the coarse hand, almost nuzzling into it.

"I'm not powerful, Misty," she said between her sobs. "Look what a failure I am, right now, how I continue to fail you."

The Cajun shushed her, as she pulled her into a tight embrace. "You never fail me, Miss Cordelia. Don't ever belittle yourself like that." She ran her fingers through the straight hair of Cordelia.

The Supreme could feel the bones of her fingers. Despite being the one to be held, she feared that she might break Misty. "But you're getting weaker by the day. Can't you see that? I'm scared for you, scared to death."

"It's— I'm fine, I promise." Misty pulled away, and revealed a smile of remorse. "Besides, I got your potion, don't I? Is it ready now?"

Taking a deep breath, Cordelia gave a nod.

Misty chugged the energy potion, straight from the flask. She twisted her face, sticking her tongue out. "This is so bitter. I thought it'd be sweet like yesterday's."

"Because I made you a stronger potion," Cordelia lied, as she forced a smile. "It will take effect in thirty minutes."

The Cajun put the flask down, and took the hands of the Supreme. "Dance with me, then, while we wait."

Before Cordelia could utter a word, the girl turned up the volume of the music, and pulled her to the little open space near the table. Her twirling spot. With one arm around Cordelia's waist and the other on her shoulder, Misty led the dance. It might have been the most awkward dance in the history of the universe. One pair of feet shuffled across the floor, out of rhythm, while the other pair moved with expert swiftness. Their knees bumped into each other occasionally, and Cordelia even stepped on the girl's toe once. But the Cajun kept smiling, kept humming, and Cordelia felt her body relax each passing second.

"If anyone falls in love. Somewhere in the twilight dream time . . ." Misty closed her eyes and sang, as though relishing how the words danced on the tip of her tongue.

Cordelia couldn't take her eyes off that sight. Her feet now moved on their own accord, and to her amazement, they moved just like Misty's. Every cell of her buzzed, resonating with the bliss in the air. In that moment, she even forgot to breathe.

Everything else blurred in the light of Misty Day.

It gave Cordelia joy, but also terrified her. She didn't want this to end. She wished the Cajun would never open her eyes and go back to Ursula. She wished for eternity.

"Misty?"

The girl rested her chin on the Supreme's shoulder, humming.

The soft breath caressed Cordelia's neck. "What if— If you had to choose between me and Ursula, if you didn't have any other choice, which would you choose?" Her heart drummed in her ears, making her head spin.

The Cajun let out giggles, contrary to the desperation of the Supreme. But when her eyes opened and saw Cordelia's face, all of the mirth dissipated. Their bodies slowly parted, while their eyes looked into each other's.

And in those blue eyes, Cordelia saw the answer.

ooOooOoo

The unspoken admission devastated Cordelia more than anything. She didn't even know whether to cry or to laugh, whether to give this all up or to reaffirm her determination. And as this traumatic event happened in the greenhouse, she now only had her office to hide in. She drowned herself in an ocean of papers, choked herself with a number of business calls, made her head nearly explode with an endless list of emails and letters. All of this, in order to punish herself. Any type of suffering gave her life. They did not allow her mind to drift to Misty.

It was in the middle of this escapism that the Woman walked in, without a knock on the door. Cordelia was on the phone with an annoying helicopter parent. The grimace on her face grew even deeper at this unwelcome visitor. But it was the only way she could protest. She couldn't even let out a quiet sigh. She gave wholehearted, sincere responses to the person on the other side of the phone, while her eyes followed the Woman with vindictive aversion.

As usual, Ursula moved about with repugnant ease, like a free cat in front of a chained dog. The pale skin of her thigh peeked from the deep slit in her dress. Every other step revealed a black lacy garter. In her cleavage rested a large stone of her necklace—mostly likely real diamond. Light bounced off it, and dazed the Supreme every now and then. Right beneath the glimmering stone, the same rune symbol as Misty's embellished the skin.

Misty said something about the same mark on her heart.

Cordelia glared at the mark. Then, the Woman stopped walking. Their eyes locked, and the Supreme blushed scarlet, getting caught staring at her breasts. Cordelia didn't raise her eyes for the rest of the phone call.

Then, the dreadful moment came, as the phone call ended.

"What did you say to my pup?" Ursula said, as soon as the Supreme put the phone down. "She looks awfully depressed, and refuses to tell me the cause of it. I can't help but think you did something."

Cordelia didn't bother to hide her distress. "I thought you knew everything."

"I see that I won't get any answer from you, either." The Woman lit a cigarette, and shook her head slightly. The smoke enveloped her. The dark eyes seemed to follow the smoke, until it vanished. "I need her to be happy," she said. "Not want. Need. It's not an option. It's a matter of life and death, so to speak, though I don't expect you to understand."

"Why her? What makes her so special?"

Ursula shook her head again, but with a different air. "Not as talented as I thought . . ." she almost said to herself, but loudly enough for Cordelia to hear. "You've asked the same question before, and to be quite frank, I thought you'd know better than anybody."

The Supreme remained silent.

"That girl. Although a little uncouth and uncultured, she's pure, and fierce. I need those white flames, for my life."

The brows of the Supreme knitted at the offhand insults. "You're bringing her to ruin."

The Woman's smile grew more conceited, even malicious. "Ruin. Now that's an interesting choice of word." She walked to the window behind Cordelia's desk. "When I found her in the horrifying hell of Papa, I knew instantly that she was made for me. Her powers." She continued to look out the window. "Of course, she was dumb enough to get herself stuck in the first place, but her soul remained undamaged. Nothing could end her. She's like a . . ." She snapped her fingers, trying to get the word out. ". . . a jellyfish."

"A what?"

"Don't look so cross." Ursula laughed. "I only meant that the creature possesses a wonderful ability to live forever. I had never seen it in a human, though. That girl is truly special, more than you can imagine."

"I don't need your concern."

"If that self-generative power isn't made for me, I don't know what is." The Woman seemed too absorbed to hear the sarcasm. "So, I made a deal with Papa. We're quite good friends. Though you may not believe it, he owes me a lot. It was not difficult to have the girl let go."

"And am I supposed to be impressed?" the Supreme said. "You just moved her from one hell to another."

"Like I said, what would you do, then? Can you stop me?"

"I will."

And the way the dark eyes of the Woman glimmered sent shivers down Cordelia's spine. The self-absorption, the look of self-importance, the sadistic curb of the lips. The woman had a painful resemblance to the monster in her closet, that had died with her mother.

"Hurry up, the clock is ticking," Ursula said, and walked to the door. "Visit her afterwards. I'm sure the sight of you will revive her."

Even long after her exit, the smell of cigarette gave Cordelia a sick feeling in her stomach.

ooOooOoo

She meant to see Misty later. Not because of Ursula's suggestion, but in order to clear the air between them, to mend the broken heart of the Cajun. But the day had been quite eventful already, and it only piled up a layer of stress on another. It wore her nerves down. She needed a nap, for ten minutes at least. Closing her laptop, Cordelia dragged her feet to the couch, and lay down.

It was the deepest sleep a human could have. She didn't even remember closing her eyes. When her consciousness returned, the summer sun was almost beyond the horizon. The purple and pink of the sunset sky painted the walls of her office. She lay there still, staring at the ceiling, until she could only see darkness.

Misty might have gone to bed by now. Even if she hadn't yet, she must be in bed with Ursula. No doubt. Cordelia had missed the opportunity to see her.

With a reeling head, she returned to her bedroom. Although sleep wouldn't come again tonight, she at least needed the comfort of a cool shower and her nightgown. The tired face of a woman in the mirror looked back at her in her bathroom.

It was then she heard faint knocks on the door. As she opened it, she found Misty standing there.

"My head hurts," the girl said. Her footing seemed unstable. Her lips were tight. The crease between her brows deepened, as she screwed her eyes shut, fighting another sinister wave of pounding in the head. When she opened her eyes again, they shimmered with tears.

The Supreme held her by the shoulders, and walked her to the bed. She made her sit on the edge of it. "I'll make you my special drop for migraines," she said, pulling her alchemic kit out of the nightstand. She conjured up the drop at the speed of light, and handed it to the Cajun.

Misty swallowed the medicine with some difficulties.

"How was the potion of Vitalitas from this morning?" Cordelia said. "Did it work?"

"Don't know. I don't really remember."

Although neither of them vocalized it, Cordelia knew she was the culprit of it. A silence returned to them, pricking their skin. The Supreme watched, with a heavy heart, as Misty massaged her temples with the heels of her palms.

"Come on, I'll give you a head massage," she said. "Sit on the floor. It'll make it easier for me."

The Cajun moved slowly, as though careful not to disturb the blood flow in her brain. Cordelia gave her a pillow, and she sat on it, by the bed.

"Are you comfortable?" Cordelia asked, as she sat on the bed, hovering above the girl.

Misty answered with a small nod and a hum of approval.

The Supreme then raised her hands to the head of wilted wild curls. Her hair felt so stiff. It felt like the skin of a dead tree, so arid that she thought it would absorb all of the moisture and oil from her fingertips. She felt a squeezing in the chest.

"Miss Cordelia?"

Cordelia didn't respond. She only kept moving her fingers.

"I've been thinking," Misty said, with a distant voice, "about what you said in the greenhouse . . . Well, been trying to anyways." She let out a heavy sigh. "You know I love you, right? More than Stevie. More than my li'l garden in the swamp. Nothing scares me, 'cause I know you'd protect me. But, you have the Coven, the girls, who adore you without limit. And Ursula only has me. So . . . yeah, I can't leave her. That's my answer."

Cordelia's hands trembled, just like her bottom lip. She kept staring, almost glaring, at one place of the girl's head. If she moved her gaze, she knew tears would spill. But they wouldn't be tears of heartbreak. Although the sorrow still remained in her heart, it merged with frustration, swirling into a storm.

"Then, what if I didn't have anybody but you, like her?" Her voice had incredible calmness. "What would you do, then?"

"But it's just a . . . What's the word . . . Hypo-theory. Hypo-thes— It's just a big if."

At last, Cordelia drew back her hands. "Is it? Do you really think so?" Her eyes brimmed with tears at once. "Do you think, then, that I didn't have to struggle with emptiness for the last seven months, looking for you in every corner of the world? Do you think I woke up with a smile every morning, instead of sobs and screams?" She wiped her tears away, as Misty turned around. "This world was a constant reminder of how I lost you, and in my dreams I had to lose over and over again in my arms, every night. But at least, I could see you in these nightmares. Don't you know? I love you. I have no one but you, either."

The Cajun, with a troubled face, reached for her hand. "I love you, too."

But Cordelia pulled away. "No. No, you don't get it. I love you, the way Kyle loves Zoe, the way Nan loved Luke. Not the way Hank loved me, or the way Ursula loves you. It's not love. Love shouldn't look like that."

Out of breath, she cupped Misty's cheeks and pressed their lips together. Her lips felt hard and chapped, just like her hair.

The Cajun jerked away, as though a bolt of lightning struck her. They looked at each other, at a loss for words. Not even the Supreme knew what had driven herself, to risk everything. But then, the shock on Misty's face faded away, replaced with something sweeter, more mild. It stupefied Cordelia. And she could only close her eyes, as Misty leaned in for another kiss. The world spinned. The inside of Cordelia's chest grew hotter, more full, as the chapped lips of the girl moved against hers. Eternity seemed not so impossible in that moment. She tangled her fingers in the wild mane, bringing her closer.

But just as suddenly, Misty pulled away. The shock in her blue eyes looked stronger than ever. Her face contorted. Though her mouth opened, no word came out. She looked betrayed.

"I'm sorry," Misty said. For what, or to whom, neither of them knew.