war has begun, and if they're not careful, a fatality will tear them down.
NO SMUT OR SEXUALIZING ━ if any of the triplets are uncomfortable with this fanfiction, it will be taken down immediately.
matt sturniolo x fem! oc x chris sturniolo (LOVE T...
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𝖑𝖝𝖛𝖎𝖎. However Long it Takes
Maeve
"ARE YOU SURE you don't want to go back and see it?"
Maeve stares at Weston like he's just grown a second head. The suggestion is so absurd, she almost doesn't answer. But he looks at her, expectant, innocent as a child. Or at least as innocent as he can be. Weston was never particularly innocent, even when they were children.
He shoves his hands in the pockets of his Montfort uniform, waiting for her response.
"See what?" Maeve scoffs, shrugging her shoulders as they walk across the Archeon airfield. Clouds hang low on the horizon, obscuring the setting sun, as well as the smoke still trailing from parts of the city. It's been a week, and they're still putting out fires. "A house on rickety sticks? It's probably ransacked, if someone isn't living there," she mutters, thinking of her old home in the Stilts. What she's saying isn't necessarily true ━ she can't go back there because of all the memories she has of Cassian there. It'll only feel empty without him.
Besides, she wouldn't be surprised if the stilt house was no longer standing. She can easily imagine Chris destroying it out of spite.
When he was alive.
"Why, do you want to go back to the Stilts?"
Weston shakes his head, almost bouncing in his steps. "Nope. Anything I cared about isn't there anymore."
"Flattery will get you nowhere," Maeve replies. "What about Nick?" she adds, raising a brow.
"What about him?" Weston smirks down at her, offering a shrug of his own. He's trying to throw her off. A hint of a flush dusts his cheeks with color, though. "He'll be coming out to Montfort in a month or so. With Cedric, once things are a bit more settled."
Maeve can't help but grin. Must remember to tease him later, she thinks, as Cyrus approaches with a few Command generals in tow.
Like Weston and Maeve, Cyrus is ready to go back to Montfort. The Deuveux can only imagine how excited she must be to leave Norta behind, and return to her daughter. Campbell is growing bigger in leaps and bounds, happy and safe. With no memory of what came before her.
Not even her father.
The thought of Cassian always darkens even the brightest of days, and now is no different. But the pain is less somehow. Still an ache, still bone-deep, but not so sharp. It doesn't take Maeve's breath away anymore.
