Her Dark Artifice [t.r]

Chapter 7: Hidden Truths

evadne's outfit^ :)

VII

Persuade me? Evadne thought, cringing at herself. She wanted to vomit out of pure self-revoltion. What on Earth has gotten into me lately?!

And it was the way Ridde looked at her that she couldn't get out of her mind, and how incredibly close they were standing, tucked in the quiant space of that derelict corner of the library. Evadne could feel his body heat radiating off him and simultaneously hear his slow heart beats beneath the fabric of his button-up shirt. He'd never had such intruige in his eyes before; a complex, almost indecipherable mixture of dark delight and irony.

Tom took pleasure in teasing her, in rendering her flustered and unable to formulate words in her mouth.

Yet, in previous schoolyears, it was as if Evadne Verlaine were invisible to Tom, another inconsequential and inferior pawn on a chess piece like everyone else at Hogwarts.

Evadne couldn't quell the feeling that there was something more - an onslaught of things being left unsaid. It was aggravating. She could hardly withstand any of it longer than she already had: the painful trepidation, the overarching uncertainty, the yearning for answers yet the current lack of them.

If I wanted you I would have had you already.

Her heart did a somersault in her chest.

As Evadne sat behind her desk in her dimly-lit dormitory, she held her head in her hands, spiralling without respite. She desperately had to talk to someone.

So, as a means to ameliorate her suffering, she did something she usually did whenever she was stressed and felt trapped in a cage of her own self-imposed loneliness and fatigue — she compulsively wrote to a Mother she had never even seen nor known.

Evadne always longed for a Mother. She knew her letters would never have a recipient, so it felt easier to write the truth about her thoughts and feelings. That way, there was no risk of judgement or embarrassment. That way, there was a glimmer or hope; a rainbow glinting through the lingering overcast after a storm.

She did not have a Mother.

But she liked to think that she did, somewhere out there in the world.

Even if the woman had abandoned her at an orphanage, Evadne liked to think that she had her sound reasonings for doing so.

Somewhere, she had a family – a definite father, a definite mother, perhaps even a sister or a brother.