Petunia was always the worse sister - not as pretty, not as kind and especially not as magical as Lily. Jealousy and bitterness rule her life, until one fateful encounter changes her destiny ...
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Petunia was always the lesser out of the two Evaness...
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In her flushed haste, Petunia had overlooked one very elemental thing: that a maze was called a maze for a reason.
Her mind was so overwhelmed with the maelstrom of emotions and perplexing thoughts that the memory of the path she had taken to get here got swallowed up in them. Did Bunty ascend or descend the stairs? And how many? When had Bunty taken turns in the brackish darkness? Petunia's attention had been so focused on the miracles contained behind the doorways she passed that she had barely paid attention to her steps.
Now she was standing on a low plateau, two stairs in front of her. One leading down, one leading up. And she was very much unsure which path to take. Both curved slightly and shimmery light promised more surprising doorways at their ends but Petunia was no longer concerned with magical landscapes and beasts. She wanted to find the kitchen fire and get home and then ... and then she wasn't sure what she wanted to do.
Curl up beneath her covers in embarrassment? Go through the whole conversation in her head repeatedly and come up with better answers than the ones she had given? Take Aspen for a flight to let the cutting wind whip the tumbling thoughts right out of her head?
"Petals."
Petunia whirled around, her eyes widening. Eugene was standing a few steps behind her, his hair looking unusually dark in the low light. She couldn't read his expression because her eyes quickly sought a point over his shoulder, refusing to look into his eyes.
Petunia hadn't even heard him approach and wondering if the reason was her preoccupied mind or his silent tread was the only thing stopping her from contemplating much more heavy questions.
Like the one asking if there was any way he wouldn't correctly interpret her statement.
Petunia had told him, no, shouted in his face, that she cared about him and now he was right here and she didn't know what to do.
"I'm glad you haven't left yet, Petals."
Petunia refused to admit that this was solely because she had completely lost her way. "Well, I was just about to."
For a second silence reigned and then Eugene stepped closer. Petunia still stopped herself from looking at his face, trying to distract her thoughts by counting the rips in his hideous trousers. He really should throw those out.
"Don't go yet."
Before Petunia could think of an answer to that ridiculous (heart-pounding) request, Eugene suddenly shook his head like a wet dog trying to get rid of the water, his blond looks getting even more tangled up as a result. A gusty sigh escaped his chest and his shoulders relaxed.
Immediately he looked more like the Eugene Petunia had always encountered at the magical station, open but comfortable body language, raised face and casually propped hands. He walked past her and lounged on one of the steps of the stairway leading up, tousling his already jumbled hair in a futile effort to make it fall properly.
