Learning to be Strong Alone // Jeraphina Fanfiction

Chapter XI: Cambridge

"I've given you my story,
now how about yours?
I want to know all,
to your sorrow and your flaws."

...............

Seraphina's POV

My head shook as a shiver ran down my spine. "N-no. . . I'm not exactly surprised," I said, gently swirling what remained of the tea in circles around my plain, white mug.

Excess leaves curled at the bottom—collecting together in a small pile on the side.

What was I 'not exactly surprised' about, you ask?

"Suicidal thoughts often follow the death of a family member; a child . . . their child, no less," Sonya said staidly, lowly shaking her head downward, irises rather dull—even angry as she stared emptily ahead. "...Doesn't mean the others don't hurt just the same."

My eyes glared downward, "Yeah. Even the death of a friend can make you want to..." I stopped, mind blank. I was fully aware of what I was implying in this statement. I just decided not to finish it.

Yeah, that.

"Mmm," she quietly hummed in agreement, running her fingers up and down the mugs surface—light 'clinks' emitting from the curved surface.

"It's just," I started, "when I met him—William, of course, he just seemed so kind and carefree toward me and, well, everything," I spoke, being to tell her my story.

I thought that about John, too, to be honest.

Noticing the smudge of happiness I had disappear, Sonya quickly changed the subject from 'dead friends and or family members,' or whatever.

"So . . . Miss Seraphina. Would your ability happen to give you extra endurance?" Sonya asked as she shuffled around the couch facing opposite me, seeming to be searching for further comfort.

My knuckles turned pale with the extra force I started to place on the cup.

Another subject that isn't exactly a walk in the park for me to reside speaking about or with.

I wasn't necessarily angry, but I didn't really feel like talking about what I had done to myself-my friends, as well.

I didn't feel like talking about my "non-existant" ability, either.

My mind was knocked from it thoughts, answering in a small voice, "Not really. Why do you ask?" I stated blandly, kind of trying to avoid the subject as much as possible.

She just closed her eyes as her mouth let out a gentle sigh, "I have a daughter—Diedre—that lives in Wellston." Sonya chuckled, "I try to visit her as often as possible, but it really is quite far." She stopped, her lips still peeled open on her pale face.

They closed as she thought, eyes still wide.

"I really haven't . . . I haven't seen her smile in such a long time. Whether she doesn't smile much or I just don't visit enough . . . who knows."

I made a line with my mouth and hummed in the slightest.

The silence enveloped is as we sat, basking in the off-note of her bittersweet tale.