Of the line Tremaine

The drought was the very worst
When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst
It was months and months of back and forth
You're still all over me like a wine-stained dress I can't wear anymore

Hung my head as I lost the war, and the sky turned black like a perfect storm

A girl and a boy curled closer together on the cold stone street. The rain came down harder than before, soaking them to the bone, leaving the boy's dark hair clinging to his face and the girl's mascara to streak down her cheeks. Both of them were barefoot, their feet blistered and their clothes were torn. People walked up and down the cobblestone street, completely ignoring the pair except to kick their feet out of the way.

The house the pair were pressed against was expensive, that was obvious from the first glance. It was a double-story Tudor, with a well-kept garden in the front and a neatly bricked pathway up to the front door. From the inside of the house came a warm light and high-pitched screams. The door swung open, and a man ran out of the house, closely followed by a vase, which shattered on the path, nicking his ankles. he didn't stop.

The boy held the girl closer, his dark eyes following the man all the way up the path and into the street. When the man stepped off the property, the girl let out a sigh that caused him to spin around one more time, looking for whatever was stirring in the garden. They froze, and after a tense few seconds, the large silhouette of the man disappeared into the darkness.

Immediately, the couple sprung into action. The boy pushed himself up and offered a hand to the girl, who took it gratefully, smiling at her companion. The pair walked around the house to what could be taken as a back garden, although it was more likely to be mistaken for a small forest. The house that looked so well cared for on the public's side was an absolute mess at the back. They snuck in through a door that had been left open, even in the raging storm, and into a room that vaguely resembled a kitchen, if one looked through the thick layers of dust, broken glass, and what was either blood or wine. From there, they took a cramped, spiralling staircase up to the floor that was emitting the warm candlelight, and separated, locking themselves into different rooms.

The rain came pouring down when I was drowning
That's when I could finally breathe
And by morning gone was any trace of you,
I think I am finally clean

There was nothing left to do
When the butterflies turned to dust that covered my whole room
So I punched a hole in the roof
Let the flood carry away all my pictures of you

When the couple emerged, they looked completely different. The girl's dark hair was coiffed, her skin pale but her lips red, her body slipped into an elegant gown, and the feet that had looked so raw and painful before clean and balancing in thin stilettos. The boy's hair was neatly combed, and he stood tall in a black suit with silver trimmings. He too wore expensive looking shoes, and the hands that had been caked in dirt a mere half-hour ago were clean, the nails trimmed and the skin soft. They smiled at each other and headed down the marble staircase in the centre of the landing.

In the parlour sat two very similar women, alike in skin tone and hair colour and facial features in general. Each wore a slightly tarnished ball gown, some feature of the gown (the colour, or the appealing shape, or the detailing) long lost. One woman cried into her teacup, sniffles and sobs coming out at random. The male headed towards her and started holding her, whispering soothing words into her ear and trying to convince her to eat. The girl just sat on the chair across from the second woman, back straight and silent. She didn't even look to the tea set on the table, only the boy as he consoled his mother.

Eventually, the crying woman calmed herself and stood abruptly, stalking up to her room, grabbing a bottle of what looked like very expensive wine from the wine rack against the southern wall on her way. The other woman set her empty teacup down and followed her sister up the stairs, either to stop her or join her.

The water filled my lungs, I screamed so loud but no one heard a thing

Rain came pouring down when I was drowning
That's when I could finally breathe
And by morning, gone was any trace of you,
I think I am finally clean
I think I am finally clean
Said I think I am finally clean

The boy and the girl were alone again, and they smiled at each other, but not in the secretive way of earlier. This smile was sadder, more regretful and angry. Their eyes were dark as they looked at each other, furious with the man who made Drizella cry, who didn't even know he had a son, who tried to cash in on Anastasia's money because Drizella had none of her own and neither did he. They would eventually take this case to the Court, but for now, they were content to be furious, because from their fury came something unjustifiable and yet wonderful, something that was there the rest of the time but was only allowed to come out when the cousins were so angry they weren't thinking straight.

And sure enough, out it came. The girl's perfume grew heavier in his head, and she crawled up next to him, in the same position they'd been earlier, yet different. And soon, his head came down and hers went up, and their lips met in a searing kiss that was everything she missed. And his hands came around her waist, travelling up and down and everywhere, gently pulling her body over so that her weight was on top of him. 'Astoria,' he whispered against her collarbone, pulling her dress down over her shoulders, 'Astoria. Tori. So beautiful, darling. I love you. I love you.' And her dress was gone and so was his shirt, their bodies so warm and close. She was straddling him, both their fingers venturing across the other's body, a pleasure they allowed themselves so rarely. And she was shuddering on top of him, leaning over to kiss him again and hold his face to hers, their breath mingling in the bare inch between them.

Ten months sober, I must admit
Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it
Ten months older, I won't give in
Now that I'm clean I'm never gonna risk it

The drought was the very worst
When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst

Many months later, the two of them sat in the Court, heads held high, backs straight, faces impartial, voting that the master of the Tremaine household be put to death. The man who hadn't even known that there were witnesses to his crimes, to his abuse, other than the two sisters, sat in shock, not bothering to defend himself, staring at the man who was his son, the son he hadn't known he had. And this was his son, Dimitri Tremaine, the Truthseeker had said so. And that was how the man died, shocked that he had a legacy, staring at the Tremaine cousins, ignoring the Kings and Queens of the Isle of the Lost (ignoring the Queens was a surefire way to get killed, whether you were guilty of the crime you were being tried for or not).

When the Tremaine cousins parted ways, they didn't even look at each other. It had been ten months since their last night of anger and passion, ten months since Astoria had told Dimitri that they couldn't keep this up, this was wrong, their mothers would kill them, ten months since their smiles and daring escapes. Ten months.

Astoria woke up in Dimitri's bed the next morning, hungover and drunk off happiness. She left in his shirt, smiling all the way home.

Rain came pouring down when I was drowning
That's when I could finally breathe
And by morning gone was any trace of you,
I think I am finally clean

She was right, of course. Drizella screamed at the girl, threw her across the room, hit her and cut her and hurt her when she caught them, and when she told her sister, Anastasia vowed to never speak to either of them again, to disown both of them, unless they broke it off at that second. They didn't. They moved to the backroom of Madame Medusa's Pawn Shop and Boutique, and kept away the thieves and the tricksters, and life was good.

Rain came pouring down when I was drowning
That's when I could finally breathe
And by morning gone was any trace of you
I think I am finally clean
Finally clean
Think I'm finally clean
Think I'm finally clean