Hello! How are you all? I hope your good, because I'm about to trash your mood. No hate, just words.
Read on if you love dramatic plot twists.
Missed writing heaps, so I got down to planning this story in my free time. Damn, you should see my book. I don't have a specific way of planning, so it's just random ideas and quotes and plots and motives and outcomes and possibilities and places and basically everything that's inside my brain. And that's only the beginning.
Who knows who Bridget Mendler is? I'll tell you. She's my MOST FAVORITE SINGER EVER.
Man, I miss shopping.
Sorry, random sentence. Ignore that, even though it's true.
Enough talk, more work!
:)
...
Who would ring their doorbell?
Granted the same annoying chime had played over and over on the day after Daphne's death, but that was a week ago. By then word had spread, and human and Everafter friends alike visited the Grimm house to pay their respects and express their sorrows. Tears had been shed, moans had been uttered, and memories had been shared.
But why would anyone visit them a week later?
The coffee long ago forgotten, Sabrina made her way into the empty living room and headed towards the door. Dimly, she noticed that it was raining outside, lightly. The sky was grey, dark clouds hanging low over the landscape.
How cliche, she thought. The weather matches my mood.
Completely forgetting that she was partially exposed thanks to her lack of good clothing, she unlocked the lock and pulled the door open.
If Daphne had been there, she would have squealed and bitten her palm in excitement. She would have run through the doorway and smothered the figure on the other side. After all, he had been gone for a week.
But Daphne was not there, and she was exactly the reason why he had disappeared.
Puck stood on the other side of the door, dripping wet. His hair was matted to his forehead, and he held a letter in his hand. He looked broken, depressed, lost.
Exactly the same way she felt.
Perhaps it was his appearance, that lost-soul vibe that practically radiated from him, or maybe it was the fact that she hadn't seen him in a whole freaking week, but Sabrina felt a surge of emotions rush through her body, something she hadn't felt since that fatal day, and in an instant she was in his arms.
It was in that instant that she realized she hadn't hugged someone for seven days. After Daphne's death, Sabrina had cut everyone off, shut herself out. Curled up in a ball under the covers for most of the day was how she spent her days, not getting up unless she needed a drink or had to use the bathroom. She knew it was pathetic, but she needed to mourn.
And they let her. They knew she needed space, and they gave her plenty of it.
Maybe they gave her a little too much space. Here, right now, she felt safe. She felt as if this was what she had needed all along. A simple embrace, something that showed her that she wasn't alone. Something that proved there was someone out there who still cared about her.
And Puck was that someone. His strong yet gentle arms around her felt so comforting, so much like Daphne's, that she broke down. For days she had cried silently, tears staining her pillow as she huddled in her room, alone. Now she had a shoulder to cry on, someone to open up to, and the flood broke down.
They were standing in the doorway, half in, half out, but for some reason, neither of them cared. They were together, and that was all that mattered.
When her ragged sobs died down to a sniffling hiccup, Puck pulled away slightly. He looked her over, a small, almost imperceptible smile on his lips. His eyes met hers.
"Guess you're not faring any better, huh?"
She smiled shakily back at him, and he seemed to understand that she was incapable of speech, because her wrapped her up in another tight hug before letting her go.
She noticed for the second time the letter in his hand.
"What's that?" she asked, pointing at the plain white envelope. It was slightly wet from the rain.
Puck glanced at it and then motioned for them to step inside. She stood to the side as he walked in, dripping water onto the hardwood floors.
"Where're the others?" he asked, looking around. Sabrina pointed in the direction of the dining room. Puck walked over to her family, Sabrina following closely behind.
After the usual greetings and a few tears, Puck rejoined Sabrina, standing next to her near the head of the table. He looked at her, then handed her the envelope.
"It's for you," he said softly. Sabrina took the envelope, and saw that it was indeed addressed to her, but there was no return address.
Strange.
She began opening the letter carefully with her one free hand, the other hand occupied with holding her coffee. Before she could tear the last part, Puck's hand gently grabbed her wrist, and her head snapped up to look at him.
He was wearing a guarded expression, and she could see that he looked...scared? He seemed wary, cautious, as if one wrong move could lead to disaster.
What was he so afraid of? The letter? Sabrina herself had no idea who it could be from, and was anxious to find out.
"Look at the writing, doesn't it look familiar?"
Puck's question snapped her out of her thoughts and she frowned, flipping the letter over. Taking a closer look at the writing, she felt all the breath leave her lungs, and she felt as if she were drowning. The blood rushed to her head as the coffee cup slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor, shattering into a million pieces and spraying hot liquid all over the floor and her bare legs.
She knew that writing. She'd know it anywhere.
It was Daphne's.
...