FCRAs Runner-Up!
Take a step back from the Snow White tale you know. Step back to get a better look.
Skin pale as snow.
Hair black as ebony.
Lips red as blood.
What does that sound like to you, dear reader? A creature of the dark. One that lives...
Sorry for the long wait, guys!!! I've been super busy with theatre and school. The photo above is something I made (honestly I just put the text on the picture XD). If you haven't already, go check out the newly made trailer for Red as Blood! It features more of Snow, Thayer and Beck, but the music is perfection and I can't stop watching it!
It had always been me, not Tristan, that cried.
When we were growing up, he was the strong one and I was the reasonable one. I was the one that couldn't fight back tears when I'd scraped my knees on the jagged rocks left on the slick sand after the tide retreated. The salt left from the waves always dug into my skin, turning the dull throb into flickering flames. It was always Tristan who came to my aid and told me it was okay to cry. But he never shed a tear. He never even screamed in pain when he twisted his arm out of his socket trying to save a trapped family from their fallen house during a terrible storm. I always thought he was the strongest, out of the two of us.
But I never expected to come to his aid.
The scream was Snow's, I knew it. And it cut through the music and the crowd like a hot knife through butter. She was with Tristan the last time I saw her. All thoughts of the stranger from the West fled from my mind, leaving only the terrible fear in its wake. Not waiting to see if Thayer was following, I hiked my heavy skirts up and pushed through the frozen crowd.
Tristan. Tristan, I had to get to Tristan.
I cursed under my breath at the unmoving nobles, the urgency to just get to Tristan fighting the cool politeness I was supposed to portray. But damn being a queen tonight, I couldn't lose another person I cared about.
The crowd was thicker around him, around the pool of scarlet blood that was so stark against the white marble floor. I shoved past them, Tristan's name on my numb lips.
"I-I'm sorry!" Snow cried, her hands shaking and covered in blood.
Tristan's blood.
"I turned away from him for a moment . . ." She said, blue eyes wide as full moons. "And I turned back and . . ." She suddenly choked on a sob, pressing the back of her pale hand to her lips.
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I ignored her, I didn't care about her tears. I ran to Tristan's side, kneeling down in the blood that surrounded him. The warm, coppery scent curled in my nostrils, and I swallowed down the bile rising in my throat.
"Please be alright, please be alright . . ."
He was so pale, so damn pale. His usually smiling lips parted and tinged blue. Grey eyes closed, throat bleeding. Yet . . . not gushing. There was so much blood, but not all was coming from the wound in his neck. It wasn't deep enough.
