Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
( XXV. WHEN IN PARIS )
SOMETIMES, AMELIE NIGHTLY THOUGHT SHE WAS A GHOST.
Sometimes, Amelie Nightly had to pinch herself during the night, when her eyes wouldn't shut, when her mind couldn't be turned off. Sometimes Amelie Nightly had to pinch herself because she didn't believe she was real, you could call it an existential crisis but the brunette would argue and say it was normal considering everything they'd been through.
It had been exactly two months since she left Beacon Hills— since Allison and Aiden passed away. Sometimes, she hoped that Allison hadn't found peace— that she would see her once more, that she could talk to her and apologize and just touch her. A touch she yearned for almost like she would starve if she didn't— like someone would rip out her abdomen with their raw teeth. It's what grief did.
Grief was a hungry creature. It loved the night, when everyone was alone with their thoughts— where it would creep in through the cracks of the painted walls and seep into their mind like an ink stain on fabric, you can rub it off as much you want— but it will always be there. But, as soon as the sun penetrated the earth's surface, sending light and warm heat, the creature ran away back into the shadows, scattered back into hiding until the star melted back into the sky and night arrived.
Now, Amelie Nightly— the anchor—was lying awake the orange and pink hues of the sun started weeping into the ebony sky, but she still had to pinch herself.
Amelie Nightly still had to pinch herself because she thought she was dreaming. She was in France— Butte-aux-Cailles, to be exact, a small village on the outskirts of Paris. She was in France with her best friend and the father of her dead friend, call her crazy but she wouldn't have it any other way.
"Amelie!"
The sun had now risen, its rays penetrating the thin silk curtains covering the windows of her cream colored room. The sun had risen, welcoming a new day, but her eyes had not blinked once since the night had fallen on them. "I'm up," She yelled, her voice unbelievably raspy that she had to clear her throat, through the door and it opened on the sound of her voice.
Isaac— with his extremely bright eyes and a rare, even brighter smile— ran into her room and leaped on to her bed, making her groan on impact and cover her face with the cream duvet.
"Do you know what day it is?"
"Is it the day you leave me alone?" She retorted.
"Nope," The beta popped the 'p'. "It's Saturday."
At his reply, Amelie threw the duvet from her face and a smile appeared as they shared an excited look. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"If you're thinking that we sneak out and take the train to Paris for the day," Isaac whispered excitedly. "Then, yes, that's definitely what I'm thinking."
