Sup, party people. Been really in the mood lateley. But college is looking a little daunting at this point. Hopefully, I can keep writing and that my fire won't be quenched by the burdens of adult life soon.
That's about the gist of it. Remember, more reviews/comments/messages means more frequent updates. I'm just saying, not that you even need to.
H: I would rather tear off my own ears and feed it to my pet than listen to all your worthless ramblings, peasants!
She was back.
Back in the void, the familiar abyss where she was once again enveloped in the inky blackness that seemed to stretch endlessly. Time held no meaning here, and space had not yet taken form. It was a place beyond comprehension — a realm where everything and nothing existed all at once. But this time, something was different. This time, she was not alone.
Before Cupid floated a radiant orb of light, a sphere of majestic grandeur glowing with an otherworldly brilliance. Its warmth reached out to her, wrapping around her like a tender embrace. It was soothing, like a balm on the wounds she didn't know she carried. The warmth wasn't just physical; it seeped into her very soul, offering her a lifeline to cling to, an anchor in her swirling uncertainty.
"Cupid…"
The voice came again, soft and haunting, yet familiar. It had called to her once before, beckoning her toward the light, drawing her from the depths of the void. Now, it called her again, pulling at the frayed edges of her being, urging her forward.
Her form, shrouded in the shadows of the void, felt insubstantial — like a fleeting memory struggling to hold on, barely tethered to reality. The darkness clung to her, thick and suffocating, as if it was trying to swallow her whole. She could feel it seeping into her, creeping into the cracks of her spiritual self, threatening to erase her entirely.
But there, just ahead, was the glowing orb. Its light shone with the intensity of the sun, yet it wasn't blinding. Instead, it radiated a kind of brilliance that felt eternal, unmatched by anything she had ever seen. She reached toward it, desperate to touch it, to feel its warmth more deeply.
"Cupid…"
The voice called again, softer now, but more insistent. It tugged at her, pulling her closer, and the light began to envelop her, wrapping around her like a protective cocoon. The darkness that had seeped into her began to recede, slowly but surely, as the light purified her, cleansing her of the weight that had burdened her for so long.
She could feel herself becoming whole again — pieces of her that had been lost to the void were returning, clicking into place. She had been fractured, scattered, but the light was mending her, restoring what had once been broken.
"Cupid…"
The voice echoed through the space once more, urging her to come closer. She reached out her hand, trembling as it neared the glowing orb. The closer she got, the more intense the warmth became. It should have been unbearable, but instead, it soothed her, filled her with a peace she hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity.
Her fingertips finally made contact with the orb. The sensation was indescribable — a connection that went beyond touch, something deeper, something primal. The light wasn't just surrounding her anymore; it was becoming part of her, seeping into her intangible form, wrapping her in a protective embrace. It was as if the light had claimed her, sheltering her from all the darkness in the world, shielding her from everything that had once hurt her.
She welcomed it. She allowed the light to envelop her fully, to seep into every corner of her being, banishing the shadows that had clung to her. She felt safe here, cradled in the light's warmth, as if this was where she had always been meant to be.
But something stopped her.
Even as she accepted the light's embrace, something held her back from fully merging with it.
"Cupid…"
The voice called again, but despite her closeness to the light, the voice still felt distant — no nearer than it had been before. It was as if there was an invisible wall between her and the source of the voice, something she couldn't quite reach.
She furrowed her brow, frustration beginning to creep into her thoughts. Where was the voice coming from? Why did it keep calling to her? There was an urgency in it now, a desperation that she couldn't ignore. It tugged at her heart, filled her with a need to find its source, to answer its call.
But the light distracted her, clouding her senses. The more she tried to focus, the more the light seemed to blur everything around her, numbing her awareness. It was like being in a dream, where everything felt real yet distant, just out of reach.
She blinked, trying to clear the haze. And then, she saw it — a deeper brilliance within the orb. Something brighter, more intense, hidden beneath the surface of the light.
Her breath caught. That was it. That's where the voice was coming from.
She pressed forward, determined to reach it, to dive deeper into the light's embrace. But as she tried to push through, the warmth that had once welcomed her began to resist. The light pushed back against her, rejecting her.
A wave of confusion washed over her. Why was it stopping her? What was it hiding? The answers to her questions — the truth about this realm — had to lie within the heart of the light. But it wouldn't let her in.
Her mind raced, her thoughts spiraling with possibilities. What was waiting for her in the center of the light? Why had she been called here? And most importantly — who was calling to her with such urgency, with such need?
Before she could find the answers, she felt a familiar pull. Her connection to the real world was tugging at her consciousness, pulling her away from the void. She could feel herself being drawn back, her senses slowly returning to the waking world.
"I guess it's time," she whispered to herself, a sense of resignation settling over her. She wasn't ready to leave, but she had no choice. The pull was too strong.
Yet just as the light began to fade, just as she prepared to leave this strange realm behind, the voice called out to her one last time. Although it was as audible as a whisper, the words caused her whole existence to tremble.
"Cupid… help me."
Cupid gasped awake, sweat riddled her brows as her breaths came up haggard and deep, her heart wildly stammering in her chest.
"By the fates, took you long enough to wake." A familiar tone was uttered nearby as Cupid churned her head to the side to see Haze perched upon a red, velvety sofa chair in all his majestic and wretched glory.
"H-Haze?" She asked, still unsure of herself. "Wh-Where are we?" Her mind was foggy, memories seemed like a blur as she tried to recall what had befallen her so.
"Where do you think, halfling?" He replied coldly, a hint of disdain lacing his words like venom.
Cupid held a hand to her head, attempting to mitigate the throbbing headache as her muscles screamed in agony with every move. She winced, catching herself as her vision began to clear.
Her eyes landed on familiar pristine marbling, lavishly furnished decor, and chaotic disorder as bodies piled the expanse of the room. "We're — back in the dorm?" She halted mid-sentence, finding the whole situation hard to believe.
She can see her friends all strewn around the room, seemingly unharmed and accounted for as they were in various positions across the floor or over the furniture.
"A-Are they…?" She asked, fearfully as he could hear him scoff from where he sat.
"Cease your needless worries, Cupid. They're fine, limbs intact and minds whole… mostly." He said, which caused her to breathe a sigh of sweet relief.
Her heart began to ease in its beating, her frayed nerves returning to stability as she found her senses to recompose herself. Her friends were fine, with not a scratch or bruise to them. Yet, a thought ran across her mind, a question full of doubt that she wanted to ask as she turned to Haze who kept his scrutinizing gaze aimed at her shriveled form.
But before she found the right words to speak up, Haze stood up from the chair and straightened himself. "I'll leave their care in your hands. You should be at least capable of handling such a simple task."
The words that escaped his lips were so unlike him. So foreign were they coming from the hands that had wrought havoc once upon their worlds. Haze exhibited an aura of strange calmness, a display of tranquility that greatly contrasted to his fiery demeanor.
"However, let me make one thing clear." He began to approach Cupid's fallen form. She had trouble raising her head as he grabbed her by her chin to stare into each other's eyes. One housed an inkling of worry and fear, while the other possessed a surge of rampant emotions that was barely held back by what little sanity remained within.
"Next time…" He gripped at her pink, supple cheeks before grinning maliciously, "Aim for the head." He warned, as his form was shrouded in flames before disappearing from her sight, leaving only a scorched floor in his wake.
Cupid felt dread overcome her as she watched as the last vestiges of Haze's presence vanish like a flickering flame. Her heart dropped, yet a part of her was compelled to know more — to discover what other secrets lie behind Haze's exterior, and figure out the rules of this strange game they were forced to play.
Cupid breathed heavily, her mind a swirling mess as her friends began to stir awake.
Kitty had seen more than her fair share of things — things she wished she could forget, and others that intrigued her to the point of obsession. Her talent for stealth, slipping into the shadows unnoticed, had always been both her greatest gift and her deepest curse.
Lurking in the background, she became a silent observer of the world around her, watching life at Ever After High unfold in all its chaotic glory. But lately, it felt like everything was converging, every twist and turn of the past few days leading back to one person: Haze.
At first glance, she had dismissed him — a spoiled, dramatic prince from a realm far removed from their own. Arrogant, self-absorbed, and wrapped in his own misery. But it didn't take long for her to see how quickly his fire, his rage, spread throughout the school like an unchecked blaze. His misdeeds touched so many — her friends included — and it made her claws itch with barely restrained anger.
Kitty was grateful for her ability to vanish from sight, to avoid his piercing gaze. She had slipped in and out of his path, lurking in the periphery, gathering information. But even though she managed to evade him physically, she couldn't escape the constant, maddening whispers of the destruction he left in his wake. Everywhere she went, it was Haze, Haze, Haze — his chaos an omnipresent force.
Ever since that day — the day — when he nearly ended her life and Lizzie's, Kitty had been watching him more closely. Keeping her distance, sure, but always keeping tabs. She wasn't going to let him catch her off-guard again. She'd spent the weekend tailing him, slinking through shadows, unseen and unheard, noting his every move.
"Well, well, well… what do we have here?" Kitty whispered to herself, her voice lilting with a curious melody as she saw Haze casually slipping through the school's gates. Her eyes narrowed, tracking his every movement, every breath. "And where, oh where, is the prince of misery heading now?"
As he strolled away, seemingly aimless, Kitty's curiosity flared. There was no way this was just a casual walk. "As if," she muttered, shaking her head. "He's up to something. I just know it. And I'm going to find out what."
She followed him, ever cautious, staying just out of sight. Haze walked with a calm, almost indifferent pace, his boots sinking into the lush grass of the academy gardens. Kitty's heart raced with every step she took, keeping pace with him but never letting him catch on. This went on for minutes that felt like hours, her pulse thrumming with the tension of the chase.
Suddenly, Haze stopped. Kitty's heart lurched in her chest, her breath catching in her throat. Had he noticed her? She froze, sinking deeper into the shadows as his golden eyes flicked around, scanning the empty grounds. But then he moved again, heading towards a wide, barren clearing at the edge of the academy grounds. The vast field was devoid of life, save for the vile prince and the ever-watchful cat.
Kitty's nerves were on high alert. Something about this felt wrong — too quiet, too isolated. But she couldn't turn back now. Her pride wouldn't allow it. "Curiouser and curiouser…" she murmured, swallowing her unease as she crept after him, her feline instincts screaming warnings she chose to ignore.
She followed the burned imprints of his footsteps, the grass singed beneath his heels, a trail of destruction in his wake. Her heart pounded louder with each step as they neared the forest's edge. He disappeared into the grove, the shadows swallowing him whole. Kitty hesitated for a split second, her mind racing, but her pride pushed her forward. She wouldn't let him slip away — not when she was this close.
The forest felt different — darker, heavier. Every rustle of the leaves sent her nerves into overdrive. She could still hear his steps, his heavy boots crunching against the undergrowth. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the sound of her own shallow breaths. She glided from branch to branch, her movements fluid as she tracked him from above, careful not to break the eerie stillness of the woods.
Then, without warning, Haze stopped. Kitty froze mid-step, perched in the trees, every muscle in her body tensed. Had he noticed her? Her blood ran cold as he turned, facing her general direction. She fought the urge to move, to bolt — every instinct screaming at her to get away. His burning golden eyes swept the forest, and for a moment, it felt as though he was looking directly at her, seeing through her invisibility, staring into her very soul.
Kitty's breath hitched. She couldn't move. She couldn't even think. Her body trembled, but she willed herself to remain silent, still. She was invisible, she reminded herself. Hidden. He couldn't possibly know she was there. But the intensity of his gaze made her doubt. It felt as though she was a mouse caught in the jaws of a predator, one heartbeat away from being devoured.
Haze took a step forward, and Kitty instinctively took two steps back. The distance between them shrank with every second, her heart slamming against her ribs. She couldn't let him get too close. Not again. She had to move. But just as she was about to slip away, her back hit a tree, stopping her cold. Her pulse roared in her ears as Haze came closer, his breath now visible in the cool air, chilling her skin.
Their eyes met. Cyan blue locked with blazing gold. It took everything in Kitty's power to remain still, to resist the urge to flee. She was invisible, but it felt as though he could see right through her. Her heart pounded so fiercely it hurt, her skin prickling with fear. She could feel the coldness radiating from him, the malice that seemed to seep from his very presence.
Haze raised a hand, and Kitty's entire body went rigid. She bit down hard on her lip, fighting back a gasp as she struggled to maintain her invisibility. His fingers drew closer, and for one terrifying moment, she thought he was going to touch her, that she was about to be exposed. Her concentration wavered, slipping, as her body prepared for the worst.
But then — he reached past her. Kitty's eyes widened as his fingers grasped something above her head — a centipede crawling up the bark of the tree. She watched in stunned silence as Haze inspected the insect, a smirk playing on his lips. Without hesitation, he tossed the wriggling creature into his mouth and chewed with a sickening crunch.
Kitty suppressed the bile rising in her throat, her stomach lurching violently at the sight. She clutched her trembling body, willing herself not to make a sound as he finished his grotesque snack. His lips curved into a wicked grin as he licked his fingers.
"Breakfast, fulfilled," he murmured darkly before turning on his heel and striding out of the forest, leaving Kitty behind in a state of paralyzed horror.
As soon as he was out of sight, Kitty collapsed to the ground, her legs giving out beneath her. Her body trembled uncontrollably, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she clutched her arms around herself. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, her heart still hammering in her chest. She had never felt fear like this before — so raw, so consuming. It was as though Haze had stripped away her confidence, leaving her exposed and vulnerable.
She'd come so close to losing control, to losing everything. Her feline instincts screamed that she had narrowly escaped death, that she had lost a life in that moment. Her mind raced, trying to process what had just happened, but all she could think about was Haze — his eyes, his smirk, the way he had made her feel utterly powerless.
Her heart pounded wildly, her body burning with a strange, unfamiliar heat. She couldn't understand it — couldn't make sense of the emotions flooding her senses. Fear, yes, but something else too. Something darker. Something that gnawed at the edges of her consciousness, pushing her to stay, to linger in the space where Haze had been.
Sweat trickled down her face, her cheeks flushed with a warmth she didn't recognize. Her pupils dilated, her breath coming in shallow pants as the remnants of Haze's presence clung to her like a shroud.
What had he done to her? Why couldn't she shake the sensation of his gaze, his presence wrapping around her like a vice? Kitty bit down harder on her lip, trying to suppress the strange, overwhelming sensations coursing through her veins. Fear, anger, and something else — something dangerous.
She didn't want to understand it. But it was there. And she couldn't escape it.
Milton Grimm was in a bind. The school week had just resumed, and yet his desk was already buried beneath towering stacks of paperwork. Classes were in full swing, students had returned en masse, and the administrative burden was overwhelming. His hand moved methodically across the pages, signing off on document after document, his pen gliding with a practiced ease that belied the growing tension in his mind.
His posture remained as straight as ever, composed and dignified, the very picture of a headmaster in control. His eyes were sharp, alive with the focused determination of someone who had mastered the art of maintaining appearances. Yet behind that mask of control, his thoughts swirled with frustration. His mind was anything but calm.
He sighed deeply, the sound barely audible beneath the relentless scratching of his pen. Another complaint. Another grievance. And they all pointed back to the same source — the student who had quickly become the bane of his existence: Haze. The sheer number of accusations, the chaos this one boy had unleashed, was staggering. Every word he read, every line filled with disdain or fear, only added to the weight pressing down on his shoulders.
He set his pen down for a moment, rubbing his temples as if he could somehow massage away the growing tension. His fingers ached from the constant signing, and he hadn't even reached the halfway point of the morning. His eyes flicked to the door, bracing himself for the inevitable — the next student storming into his office, ready to hurl more complaints about Haze.
As if on cue, the door swung open with a loud thud.
"Headmaster Grimm!" a voice barked.
Of course. Milton sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up at the latest student to come charging in. It was Hunter, the son of the Huntsman, storming toward his desk with fury written all over his face.
"Enough is enough! Someone needs to put a stop to Haze's wickedness!" Hunter slammed his hands down on the headmaster's immaculate mahogany desk, his eyes blazing with frustration.
Milton didn't flinch. He was used to this by now. "And what, pray tell, did Haze do this time?" he asked, his voice a mix of calm and weariness.
Hunter's breath hitched as he launched into his tirade. "You're not gonna believe me, but last night, he crashed a small get-together my friends and I were having. At first, he was... oddly friendly, thanks to Cupid's enchanted arrow. But then, he turned on us! He took us on some crazy magic carpet ride over Ever After, acting like we were friends with him, but then — just like that — he pulled the rug out from under us! We were falling, plummeting toward the ground, nearly to our doom! Headmaster, this school needs to stop coddling him and kick him out!"
Milton blinked, staring at the young man before him as if he were spouting complete nonsense. He folded his hands neatly on the desk, his tone unwavering. "Language, Mr. Huntsman," he chastised, his voice calm but firm. "And you are right about one thing." Hunter perked up, hope sparking in his eyes. "I don't believe a word of it."
The headmaster stood, turning to the large window behind his desk that overlooked the grounds of Ever After High. "You're standing here, alive and well. Haze may have caused some... disruptions, but that does not give you or your friends the right to fabricate fantastical tales to villainize him."
"But it's not a lie!" Hunter insisted, his voice desperate. "It happened!"
Milton waved him off dismissively, his patience wearing thin. "Enough. I've had just about enough of these wild accusations. If I were you, I'd focus on your studies. Remember your role, Hunter — the future Huntsman, just like your father. That is where your attention should be."
Hunter's fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tight. "Fine," he muttered through gritted teeth, the fight draining from his voice.
"Good," Milton replied coolly, his gaze returning to the towering stack of paperwork. "Now, if that is all, I have many more pressing matters to attend to. And do remind your friends that this nonsense about Haze's supposed hextremeties must stop. These fantasies will not be tolerated any longer."
Hunter gave a final glare before turning on his heel. As he left, he muttered under his breath, "It wasn't a dream." The door clicked shut behind him.
Milton Grimm leaned back in his chair, letting out a long, weary sigh as he rubbed his temples. The headache was already creeping in. "First Daring, then Princess White, followed by Cedar, Blondie... and now Hunter." His voice was a low groan, each name adding another pound to the weight on his shoulders. How was he supposed to keep this school in order when Haze was running rampant?
The solution, however, eluded him. He had considered countless strategies, but nothing seemed viable without igniting a war with forces far beyond his control. If only the gods weren't involved...
No, that was a dangerous thought. Milton shook his head, dismissing the fleeting notion of rebellion against the gods themselves. He was headmaster, not a fool. But how much longer could he contain this storm? His hands trembled slightly as he opened a drawer, pulling out a sealed folder — a dossier marked with an enchantment so strong it practically hummed with power. This was the experiment, forced upon him by the gods of Olympus, an arrangement so intricately woven with their magic that not even the finest loophole could be found.
"There must be something..." he whispered, scanning the pages for the hundredth time, a creeping sense of dread chilling him to the core. His heart was heavy with the weight of duty, and his resolve faltered as he traced his finger over the contract.
"Mark my words," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and desperate. "I will do whatever it takes to protect these students and maintain the order of Ever After."
As the words left his lips, the air in the room grew cold. From the corner of his eye, he saw something dark shift in the mirror by his desk — a shadowy figure, its outline barely discernible, but unmistakable.
A hollow, chilling laughter echoed faintly from the reflection. The smirk of something ancient and powerful twisted in the glass, watching, waiting.
Cupid sat quietly in the Lifairy, a space normally so full of magic and light, yet today it felt heavy with a sense of foreboding she couldn't shake. The table in front of her was cluttered with books, each in different sizes and shapes, their spines worn and faded from years of being thumbed through by students. Her notebook lay open, and she absently twirled her pen between her fingers, sketching the outline of a heart over and over again, though it remained incomplete. Every time she tried to close the shape, her mind wandered, pulling her thoughts far from the present. She sighed deeply, her chest heavy, her heart trapped in a labyrinth of emotions she didn't fully understand.
A fog of doubt clouded her memory as she struggled to piece together the events of the previous night. Something had happened, something important, but it was like trying to grasp water — it slipped through her fingers every time she reached for it. She sighed again, the sound barely a whisper in the quiet room, as her vacant eyes stared at the heart that would never be whole.
"Hey, Cupid." The sudden voice jarred her from her reverie. She looked up, startled, to see Dexter standing before her, his arms full of books. He set them down on the table with a resounding thud that echoed through the Lifairy, drawing the disapproving stares of the caretakers. A few stern looks were cast his way, causing him to wince sheepishly.
"Dexter," she greeted, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "What brings you here? Searching for new inspiration for your next Dungeons and Dragons campaign?"
Dexter chuckled, the sound warm but a little forced, as he slid into the seat across from her. "Not today," he replied, his tone more serious now, though still friendly. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something."
Cupid raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued, though the fog in her mind still lingered. "Oh? What's on your mind?"
Without a word, Dexter pulled one of the books from the stack he had brought and pushed it toward her. The leather cover was old, the title barely legible. "I found this in the gray section of the Lifairy," he explained. "It's about a forgotten holiday — something that was erased from the school's history. Apparently, the Headmaster forbade any mention of it. I thought you might find it interesting."
Cupid took the book, her fingers grazing over the embossed letters. She felt the weight of it in her hands, but her mind remained elsewhere, too consumed by the swirling thoughts and emotions that refused to settle. "Thanks, Dex—" She caught herself, correcting her familiar nickname for him. "I mean, Dexter."
Dexter didn't miss the strain in her voice, the way her words wavered like she was holding back something far deeper than the surface conversation allowed. His brow furrowed with concern. "Cupid… are you okay?"
She shook her head, her hand tightening slightly on the book. "No," she admitted, her voice soft, barely above a whisper. "Everything feels like it's unraveling, and I don't know how to stop it. Like there's this... dark cloud hanging over us, and it's only a matter of time before it swallows us whole."
Dexter leaned forward, his eyes full of understanding. "Is this about Haze again?"
The mention of Haze sent a ripple of discomfort through Cupid's chest. She nodded slowly, feeling her throat tighten. "Yeah... I don't know why I keep getting drawn into his world. I've seen the terrible things he's done. I know better. But I can't seem to break away. It's like I'm tethered to him, and I don't know how to cut the string."
Dexter's jaw clenched as he listened, his protective instincts rising to the surface. "You don't have to stay in his shadow, Cupid. He's dangerous, and you deserve so much more than to be dragged down by him. Just say the word, and I'll help you. Whatever it takes."
There was a raw earnestness in his voice that tugged at Cupid's heart. But she shook her head again, her eyes downcast. "It's not that simple, Dexter. There are things… forces bigger than us, things we can't control. I'm trying to be strong. I appreciate you wanting to help, but this is my battle to fight. I have to face it alone."
A flicker of something — a distant hope, perhaps — gleamed in her eyes as she offered him a faint smile. "But thank you. Really."
Dexter studied her for a moment longer, the tension still evident in his expression, but he respected her decision. "Anytime, Cupid. That's what friends are for."
Her heart ached at his words — friends. That's all they would ever be, and it hurt more than she cared to admit. The love she carried for him, silent and unspoken, pulsed beneath her ribs, sharp and aching. But something was different this time. The rejection, the realization that he would never love her the way she longed for, didn't sting as much as it should have. It was like the flame inside her was flickering, growing weaker with each passing moment.
Why didn't it hurt as much as she thought it would? Why wasn't this the final nail in the coffin, the end of everything she had hoped for? Instead, the pain was dull, distant, like the fading echo of a song long since played. Her heart, once so full of yearning, felt strangely lighter, less burdened.
Her thoughts drifted again, not to Dexter, but to the dreams. The dreams that had haunted her since their arrival at this school. Dreams that felt more real than reality itself. The voice that called to her from the depths of her subconscious — haunting, yet familiar. She was terrified of what it all meant, but more than that, she was afraid of the truth she had yet to uncover. There was something hidden beneath the surface, something she needed to find. But for now, her life was a whirlwind of obligations, both as a student and as the adoptive daughter of Eros. The truth would reveal itself in time. It had to.
"Well," Dexter's voice cut through her thoughts, "I should probably get back to my assignment for Muse-ic Class. See you later?"
Cupid snapped back to the present, fumbling for words. "Yes, of course. I'll see you in class later."
Dexter smiled, giving her a small wave as he stood to leave. "And remember, if you ever need anything, I'm here."
"Thanks, Dexter. Fairy much," she replied, trying to match his smile, but as soon as he walked away, the weight she had been carrying all morning returned, heavier than before.
Her eyes fell back to the book in her hands, the title barely catching the moonlight that streamed in through the window.
"True Hearts Day?" she read, the words sending a shiver down her spine. There was something familiar about them, something that tugged at the edges of her memory.
She stared at the book, her fingers tracing the cover as the rest of the world seemed to fade around her. The ache in her heart remained, but now it was accompanied by something else — curiosity, and perhaps, just the slightest glimmer of hope.
Go check out my other story titled, "Adam the First."
H: I dare you peasants read another story that is not my own!