"Your heart and my heart are very, very old friends."
- Hafiz
Selcouth
(adj.)
unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet marvelous
Psyche let out a yelp as her body jolted forward; arms reaching out only to catch the cold, empty air. Sweat rolled down from her pale face. Her lithe chest rapidly ascending and descending, mouth gasping desperately for air.
She remembered the agony of suffocation, her consciousness slowly departing away, and her body going numb as she sank deeper into the fountain's cerulean void with Lady Medea in her arms-
Psyche blinked.
Lady Medea in her arms?
Green eyes snapped open; her fingers held unto her temples, trying to recall what happened next in her dream. It was all blurry.
Forcing herself to remember was not the best thing to do. Her mind refused to cooperate, and forceful recollection would only cause more confusion and pain.
Sighing, she looked up — unsuccessful and disheartened — when the realization finally struck her. She drew a breath.
Everything wasn't a dream.
Face, pale-stricken, as dread filled her being; her body trembled in aghast. She shook her head as questions flooded her mind.
How did I survive? Who saved me? Is Lady Medea alright-
Psyche stopped her train of thoughts when she finally digested her surroundings. She let out a small sound and looked frantically around the room, gaping at the unfamiliar environment.
She was in a room — most likely a bedroom, judging from the bed and the essentials placed in the room. It was rather a large room, luxurious and designed in dark shades with the never-missing color purple. It was so different from her bedroom, but strangely she feels secure in this place.
Yet, anxiety didn't fail to bubble in the pit of her stomach. Confusion and alarm consumed her body. And . . . body! Even her very own body feels foreign!
"What's going on?" She asked to no one in particular. The voice that came out of her mouth was familiar, relieving away a significant amount of stress from her current situation. Yet she could not put her finger on why it was familiar.
She let out a giggle. "Silly, Psyche. It's your voice. Of course, it's familiar."
Her smile faded when she remembered where she is at. Her slim fingers reached for the silk bedsheets and grabbed into them tight, curling her legs against her heaving chest. Her chin rested atop her knees as she took deep breaths in an attempt to regain composure. "Clear your head, Psyche. Think."
But she could not think. All she wanted to do is to weep, close her eyes, and sleep her feelings away.
Psyche willed herself to calm down. In the corner of her eye, she caught sight of something shining. She turned her head to the object. It was the bedroom's mirror sitting on top of the vanity table, with the moon's light reflected dimly on its glass. She gazed at the transparent object before deciding to rise from the comfortable bed, taking a blanket to wrap around her body from the cold.
She took small steps towards the mirror; her eyes never leaving the object. The moon's light shone down from the creaks of the window, she came to face her figure.
She brought a palm to her cheek as she gasped in surprise. Purple hair dangled from her shoulders, and purple eyes stared back in the mirror's surface.
The face and body she's seeing in the mirror are none other than Lady Medea's.
"Strange," she uttered. "in the mirror, I see Lady Medea."
Her heart clenched as the events that happened made their way into her mind.
Oh, right. Lady Medea and I switched bodies. How could I forget?. . I still think of everything as a surreal dream.
A voice behind her back broke her thoughts. "You should be resting."
Psyche yelped at the sound, immediately facing front; her hands gripping the edge of the vanity table. The room was dimly lit, and the only source of light — from the moon outside — was not enough to catch sight of the other person in the room. "Who are you? Where are my servants? What happened at the temple?"
The stranger did not answer her, instead, he walked towards her — his steps silent and steady. Psyche gripped the edge of the vanity table tighter. Her body tensed in apprehension, ready to grab the nearest thing to defend herself from the suspicious stranger.
Is this person an assassin sent to kill me, His Highness the Crown Prince's fiancée? Did he bring me to this place?
Psyche was ready to cry in fright until the light shone down to reveal his face. A tall, handsome man with side-swept wavy, white hair stared down at her frame. Psyche felt herself exhaling in relief as she took in Marquess Helio's unusually comforting visage. It was nice to see a familiar face despite the coldness in his purple eyes.
His stretched-out hand was holding something — a glass of water. Psyche blinked at the thing he's holding before looking at him. "Is that for me?" She pointed herself.
Helio remained silent and kept staring at Psyche. Feeling pressured, she reluctantly thanked him, taking the glass of water from his hand and brought it to her lips. The cool liquid trickled down her throat made her realize that she had been thirsty and finished drinking it in one go. Smiling at him, Psyche placed the glass of water on the table and thanked him once again — more gratefully albeit the initial reluctance.
"Why are you still here, my lord?"
Lord Helio had come earlier that night and revealed that he knew the switching of their bodies. Why is he still here?
"You should be resting," Helio repeated his words, walking forward to hold Psyche's blanket and placed it on her shoulders the second time that night. "Come." He said, turning his head towards the bed.
Psyche blinked. He sighed, "I'll be off after you sleep."
"Oh."
She felt awkward around him, with their history together and after what happened during the day. She glanced at him in the corner as he made his way towards the bed; her following behind.
She dived down face-flat on the cozy sheets and sighed, feeling the sleep brought to her by the stress of the current events. She felt the bed move near her feet.
He must have sat down by the footboard.
"Good night, Lord Helio." She said. Her voice muffled from where her head was resting.
Psyche didn't hear him answer, but she could feel his gaze on her lying back.
Greetings, beloved readers!
FINALLY! I GOT TO UPDATE THIS FANFIC. *cries tears of joy*
I felt so bad and ashamed because I told nalathebear that I would be updating last February, but look at the calendar! I'm months late! *proceeds to cry in Filipino*
nalathebear, dear! This chapter is dedicated to you. I'm sorry it took long. My school schedule hurt me too much, *dramatically puts an arm over their head*, and I'm torn between lots of stuff that I neglected other stuff.
Once again, I apologize for my lack of updates but do know that I have little snippets of ideas for my fanfics in the depth of my mind; I just don't have much time to gather them and write them wholly.
See you next time. Until next time, see you next illusion! Err, next chapter. *wenk wenk*
Total of words: 1,233 words