AMARANTHINE| The Eternal Love (BWWM)

Ch. 21) Nothing but Afraid

A/N: it's the full chapter everyone!!!😊 Happy 📖

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There was something strange about miracles, and I suppose it stemmed from my disbelief in them. Miracles were good things, things that healed a person or situation. Things that brung happiness and for all the years I lived not once did I find myself experiencing such kindness from the universe. Until the last couple of months. The last couple of months I didn't just experience miracles, I had an angel sent to me. I had happiness and bliss sent to me. Despite my attempt to try and fight against that very fact I knew most certainly it was a miracle. Yet for so long I've felt trapped in a hallow dark shell.

It scared me. That's what it was. Fear. My consistency to battle her, it's all I've ever known; it was always me against the everyone, me against the world. Me against myself. I drove myself from happiness.

And from that, derived a sort of hollowness.

I thought I'd always fight against her, I thought I would always be capable to withhold myself from what we had. But I've never been more wrong. She filled me up with laughter, soft dark eyes, a gentle smile and hope. She filled me up with love and so I could go on and just say she's incredible, I could say she's different or special. But that wasn't it. It wasn't some magical thing from the universe, not really at least.

Ines was just the one; she was the one for me. A normal person yes, yet my miracle nonetheless.

But they didn't end there

At thirteen years old I was nearly as good at my father in instruments. He was incredible, even my mother couldn't deny that. I'd find her secretly pausing anything she was doing to enjoy to gentle sounds of the piano, or the longing notes of his cello. The reason why I took to playing instruments like my father was because he was always a busy man, having him teach me to play his instruments gave him and I time to enjoy each others company as father and son. We bonded. And I loved seeing the way he became when he taught me, so genuinely cheerful. Father was an unhappy man, even though he attempted to hide it, he smiled often and he was out with people often but I always thought it was his way of hiding it, even from himself. And his constant bickering with mother did nothing to aid in that.

Father and mother tolerated each other until they couldn't no longer. I was nine then; it was around that age where their distance grew and in place of that gap between them, grew tension, bitterness, and hate.

I hated seeing him hurt the way he had, so when Rosaline, his Amaranthine, appeared I had never been more elated. And neither had he, it was a feeling of relief. I took Rosaline into my life with open arms, glad for the healing she brought my father. Rosaline was kind and happy, she was playful, and we'd throw names at each other like children; I'd call her the red dragon only cause of her vibrant red hair and how large her atmosphere and presence was, in turn she'd call me the Man boy, claiming I was far too serious and mature for my young age at the time. I took her into my life as friend. And secretly as the mother I never had.

There was no denying her, and my mother proved that right when she met Rosaline. Even she couldn't hate her, even she loved her wonderful light presence. But she did so until she couldn't any longer, until she herself lost it.

Thinking of it now, my mother had grown mad. She grew resentful and jealous of father. Rosaline who was a flower, withered away by the darkness of my mother, the sun that my father had become no longer had use in the world. When the council decided death would be the punishment for him, I was devastated.