White Maid (Rewrite)

The Butler's Lover, Reflection

Slipping from the lounge, Aurora started down the hall, the chatter of the guests dissipating so the only sound became the rain outside and the pained murmurs within her mind. 

How could I have been so foolish?

I should have stayed with him. 

I never...

A sickening feeling had settled in her heart, weighing her down as if she'd donned the heaviest burden. Her feet slid slowly across the carpet, she was almost unwilling to venture into the cellar where the three bodies now lay, but what choice did she have. Sebastian was gone. All she could do now was say her goodbyes.

Why couldn't it be my blood that spilled... Not his. 

He didn't deserve this...

The Fallen's footsteps became slower the further she came towards the cellar door. Agony was flooding through her with each forward step, and as her hand slowly raised, pulling open the cellar door, she felt that burst of cool air, tinged with the stench of death. She shivered as it shut behind her, wiping her teary eyes, Aurora picked up the candelabra from the wall scone. 

Each step was it's own eternity. She wanted to cry with each one, knowing what lay waiting at the bottom. Her own reassurances seemed to fail as her lip began to wobble as it had just this morning. So she stopped halfway down the stairs, a hand over her mouth and biting back cries. It didn't matter if he was dead. 

She couldn't let him see her like this.

Pain coursed through her, and she dropped onto the step, setting the flame aside as she cried. It wasn't supposed to end like this. It was never supposed to end at all. If it had to end- she'd want to die by his side, happily, holding his hand on her deathbed.

That wouldn't happen now. 

She continued to sob uncontrollably, head tucked between her knees. 

There is nothing I can do to bring you back...

Her silver blue eyes, flickering uncontrollably between their angelic and human façade, leaked seemingly endless tears as she sat on the damp step. 

The cellar was cold, dreary, it made her think of the purgatory, the wandering lost souls... She wondered where his was now. Her heart stilled, wondering if it had merely vanished, or if it was wandering the world in search of peace. It made her sick to think about. 

Forcing herself to continue down the stairs came with a new stab of agony. Sickness rising in her as she descended further into the ground, her heart pounding as she came closer to his body. 

Her heels clicked against the slippery stone, and she found herself forcing her body to balance, almost afraid that with one wrong step she would fall down the stairs. Her body numbed with each step, and her fingers gripped the candelabra in her hand tightly, almost shaking with the effort. 

She was still wishing this was a dream. That she'd wake in a horrified gasp, maybe a cry- and he'd be there to comfort her, easing her pain his sweet words and comforting caresses. His hands there to run over her body, to reassure her he'd never leave her side. The soft kisses on her face, accompanied by the quiet promises that he'd stay. 

How she'd give anything to have him hold her like that again. 

She stopped again, choking with a hand to her heart as she felt the same burning pain she'd had coursing through her all day pounding against her chest. She slumped against the wall, face pressed against the cold, hot tears mixing with the dampness on the walls. 

Her body hadn't stopped shaking since she'd found him. His body, barely warm anymore, was lain in that same position her father's had been. She'd tried to take her mind off the fact, but it kept coming back. Everyone she loved died the same way.