"Why don't you just leave me alone?" I spit at him, the anger laced in my voice angered him and I loved it. I watched as he clenched his jaw, staring at me as his eyes darkened; walking up to me, soon towering over me making me realize how small I w...
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─── ･ ｡ ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
T R I G G E R W A R N I N G
Death
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F I F T Y S I X
EVERYTHING around me stilled as I listened to her words, mouth hung ajar and eyes wide in shock. She couldn't possibly be serious, not with what she was saying. She sounded almost... crazy, bizarre with what she was suggesting we do. Beside me, Mattheo raised himself onto his elbows and cast an unconscious look at Lana, his eyes just as wide as mine and everyone else's in the room.
"What do you mean? What does she mean?" Epiphany bolted upright, her long hair burning around her pale face and gentle freckles. Her hollow eye sockets hung lower than usual and her eyes didn't seem to brighten them up as they usually did. Piercing eyes, so different from both of her brother's, stared eagerly around the room as if she were waiting for someone to come and rescue her.
"Epiphany," Mattheo slid his hand across the wooden floor of the shack and engulfed his sister's fingers with his, my eyes lingering as his thumb delicately grazed the top of Epiphany's knuckles. His sister turned to him in jest, those piercing eyes meeting her brother's and she lingered upon his face.
He spoke nothing as everyone else in the room watched him twist away from his little sister, his hand still holding securely around hers.
"What do you mean 'revive' us? I thought you said we didn't really have to die, that Vasili would just stop our hearts and magically–"
My eyes watched as Lana shook her head, her slender arms wrapped around her tall figure. Her pale figure contorted in a way that made her seem very uncomfortable against the wall she used as support. Her eyebrows raised delicately once as her soft-lasten face sombered into a welcoming smile.
"That was what we were going to do last time. Vasili is going to stop your breathing, but... he isn't going to start it again." she shook her head side to side, her longer bob of black twigged hair caressing the skin settling atop her collarbones.
When I'd first met her months ago her hair was a bob, almost as short as Pansy's had been. The two girls were uncanically similar, identical in beauty, though there were presumptuous differences that each held unalike. For example, Lana had freckles– very small in detail, but they were there– they lined her nose like drops of rainwater. Pansy didn't have rainwater, but she had a natural flower to her flushed skin, creating a pink glaze over her appearance.
