𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 | 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧

𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐈 : 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐬 *

Your life had quickly become nothing more than a series of fluctuations between extremes: anticipation or dread; dreams or nightmares; alive or dead. Did everyone live as you did–swinging steadily on the proverbial Pendulum of Fate? Praying that the next day would be better; hoping that things would go their way; wishing that Fate would play in their favor just this one time and that all things good would outweigh the bad.

Most people must feel this way at least once in their life. To desire a favorable conclusion and fear what wrongs had yet to pass was nothing more than a parasol shielding the human condition. Some had it far worse, some had it far better, and some had it just the same, but everyone felt the rain or sunshine at some point.

Sunbeams filtered onto your face, and you found comfort in knowing that everyone could look at that same light and share similar hopes and reservations regarding what it meant when light reflected off their nose.

And today, you swung between the extremes.

For all your worrying, you had been fortunate thus far. Of course, there were some little things you would have liked to tweak had the Fates been that of your design, but most memories had been satisfying as of late. Promises of the same tomorrows you feared lit hopeful fires in your chest. This day, or rather this night, you might enjoy some hours without anger or tears. It was foolish to be optimistic, given the life you led, but another strengthened yours through his entwining.

However, even under the glow of romanticism, you could not dam that guilty feeling from flooding your good spirits. You thought of what Jean might be wondering for himself only a few miles down the road. Did he fear hurting you by accidentally recreating your previous afflictions? Did he concern himself too greatly with where he would put his hands? Did he secretly curse you for pushing him too far despite his admitted self-frustrations before he sent you to bed?

"Just this one time," you begged whoever might hear you, "Let us have this one time, and I will ask for nothing more."

At first, the Universe stayed mum about your request. You knew no true answer would come, but you still hoped to see a butterfly flutter outside your window or a ladybug crawl up the pane. It wasn't until the man that needed to hear your plea more than anyone answered with a knock at your door that unease broke your prayer.

"Y/n," Niccolo's muffled voice startled you. "You have a visitor waiting in the parlor. Straighten yourself up and come entertain her."

His footsteps echoed down the hall while you lay in bed, entirely confused.

Who would come to your house just to wait for you in the parlor? Not to mention, the visitor was a her. Hitch would run straight upstairs without a second thought, as would Sunny. Mrs. Yeager or Mrs. Springer would eventually find their way up independently. So who was here?

Could it be the Segreant's wife? Was Mrs. Gross the visitor? Would Niccolo welcome her in so readily without a sufficient warning?

So there it was: your reason for dread after hoping too much. How could Fate be so cruel?

After slipping into something respectable and creeping down the stairs in ghostly grays, you prepared yourself for the worst. Each step felt like the edge of a cliff, and your buzzing brain swarmed with waspy lies. Suddenly, you knew nothing; saw nothing; felt nothing. Lies would line a tight, breathless voice until you were free again.

You hit the bottom step, and wide eyes scanned the parlor but did not see a woman. It was a girl with inky black hair tied in neat ribbons waiting patiently on the sofa under a pile of clothes.

"Good morning! Or, maybe I should say, 'good afternoon,' seeing as the sun is already so high in the sky." Miss Mina laughed at her correction with as much awkwardness as there was sweetness. She cleared her voice gently while you calmed your racing mind. "Miss Klarrisa sent me the clothes that needed stitching. She said she paid in advance, so I didn't bring anything else. I hope that's alright."