Entry:
III
The building shakes with the force of the storm outside, but aside from the muffled wind beating against the windows, the halls are quiet. Lightning flashes, illuminating the surrounding forests and causing the ice crystallized on the windows to glow and gleam.
In the flash of light, a young girl watches with rapt attention as her tears follow a gray-blue puzzle piece descending to the ground. The cool tile that brushes her hand when she picks up the piece barely registers in her now foggy mind.
The dream that had haunted her nights for months comes to mind. Those dead, murky gray eyes looking up at her, the white and black moon reflecting on the water, engulfing the crushed remains of the Priestly Order.
Faint sobs wrack her delicate frame.
It started with a nightmare.
Unrestrained gasps ring through the room as the boy tries desperately to get a hold of himself, clutching his chest as the freezing-rain beats against the iced windows. His throat feels tight, and tears prick his eyes. Lightning flashes somewhere in the raging storm and he flinches, breaking out of his stupor. He watches as the shining tears drip from his eyes.
He drags himself from the comfort of his bed, hearing his roomate shift. The fluffiness and warmth from his black robe is a welcome comfort. The door creaks softly as he slinks into the darkly lit halls. All that he can bring himself to think of is a cup of warm, calming water.
It continued with the pitter-patter of footsteps.
Dimmed lights flicker as she walks through the halls, well worn slippers loosely slipped on her small feet, and a modest, long-sleeved nightgown the only things between her and the chilled air of the Black Order.
The horrifying dream plays through- once, twice, three times. The rusted and crumbled remains of her home, the blood rivers, the boy in her lap, dead and cold eyes staring at her with soul searching intensity. "How could you let this happen?" the voice in the back of her head questions her and it takes her everything just to keep from-
Her bottom lip is sore and swollen from where she has bitten it to keep from crying.
Pit- pat.
Pit. Pat.
Pit, pat.
Pit- thump.
The clicking of her footsteps stops abruptly as she looks up to see one of the reasons for her distress slumped against a wall, ringing his hands through his hair. She weakly thinks he looks frustrated.
"Would you like to join me?"
It was followed by the bubbling of a warm drink.
The heat radiating from her slender form is enough for him to forget gentlemanly pretenses and scoot closer to her under the knitted blanket. The bubbling of the steaming hot drinks in their hands combine with the sound of relaxed breaths to make a symphony of comfort.
They watch, on the cusp of sleep and wake as the raindrops outside the looming windows turn to flurries of snowflakes and fall gracefully to the ground many feet below. Neither talks, in a silence that is friendly, tense, and confused all at the same. A long time, it stays that way, before she finally whispers.
The sound seems to boom in the abandoned library and their relieved and excited chatter begins to fill the large space. They laugh at each other's quick responses and quips.
The storm begins to calm.
Soon the only feeling in the room is warmth. The only smell is of cold tea. The only sound is the mumblings of sleep from the two exorcists curled up on the couch in the still library.
It ends with the clinking of mugs being carried away, and the faint scene of a relationship undergoing a noticeable change.
When Lenalee wakes, the boy at her side has gone, and the sun is just rising over distant mountains.
January 1st, 18XX