ᴡᴀʏᴡᴀʀᴅ ⤕ ᴛᴠᴅ ³

seven

The days dragged on, steadily turning into weeks, and then months. The months stacked into long years. 

It hadn't taken very long for the novelty of death to wear off on Willa. She'd let go of them. All of them. But here she still was. 

Just drifting.

Eventually, Billie stopped feeling that little prick of alertness tingle at the back of her neck. Her only sign of knowing that her name was being spoken outside of her presence. The thing that she used to flash towards rather than flee from.

It was how she finally knew that they had moved on from her. That her name had taken it's place among the lists of dead. The lists of unresolved guilt. The lists of unspoken regrets. She assumed they had all come to a sort of silent agreement not to mention the Mystic Falls clairvoyant.

A pact to keep truth of Willa Harper's untimely tragedy in it's shallow grave for eternity. And that's how it went. Exactly that way and without a hiccup.

Until a group of supernatural busybodies discovered the cure to vampirism.

⤕

"Oh come on, you know exactly what colour this is."

Foamy dribble spilled along her lips, but she didn't answer, only smiled with her four teeth, kicking over blocks she'd half-heartedly stacked mere seconds ago.

Billie tapped her chin dramatically, eyes imploring the ceiling. "Hmm... maybe it's... yellow?"

A giggle rippled through the room. "No!" She replied quickly, like the suggestion itself was preposterous. 

"Ah, then how about... pink? You love pink don't you?" Another loud declaration of denial. 

"Then what is it, Vetty? I know you know!" 

The infant fell into a fit of giggles when Billie started making ridiculous faces at her, warming her heart in a way so pure it almost erased the trauma of her past life.

Footsteps stomped in the corridor and a moment later her father rounded the corner.

"Yvette, baby, there you are!" Noah bent down with a radiant smile his daughter's way picking her up with the ease of a practiced parent. "What are you giggling at in here, huh?" He swivelled his head around comically as Yvette tried grabbing his nose from his face.

He adopted a mock stern expression. "It's your bedtime sweetie, you've gotta stop climbing out of the cot!"

Noah turned, adjusting Yvette slightly on his hip and almost tripping over one of her blocks. "Who the hell taught you that manoeuvre, I'll never know." His mind flashed briefly back to his eldest daughter and her mischievous adventures as a toddler, comparing them as he often did before the memory of her end hit him and he shook the thought away.

Billie smirked to herself from where she still sat on the carpeted floor. It had been her who taught her sister to climb from the cot, a trick she'd used a lot as a child. She wiggled her fingers farewell to Vetty, her feathered lashes kissing her cheeks as they fell tiredly. "Night, kid. Sweet dreams."

Yvette waved back lazily, yawning widely and collapsing her heavy head on her dad's shoulder.

She watched Noah eyeing the room with an almost suspicious gaze, flicking back to Yvette before shaking his head, closing the light and walking down the corridor out of sight for the night.

Billie sighed loudly, standing from where she'd sat criss-cross and stretching her dead joints. She'd arrived in the delivery room when Yvette's first cries called out and been shell-shocked when the watery balls of brown locked right on hers, looking right at Billie.