ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 # 🌊♟💦
-', ༄ ❪ 𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙺 𝙻𝙴𝙷𝙽𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚁 ❫
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 ━ a woman, always painted
as the villain, tries her hardest to
show a cruel world her good intention...
MAGGIE HAD FOUND IT ODD AND VERY PECULIAR, HOW THESE PEOPLE SHE HAD KNOWN FOR ONLY A COUPLE OF DAYS, could so easily becomes the ones she would learn to trust as much as she did. Subconsciously or not, the chesnut haired woman had opened up more in the last couple of hours as a resident of Charles' manor than she had ever done in her whole adult life. And now with the sun creeping through the beige curtains in her own room, highlighting the bedframe and her face, she felt truelly at peace.
Never had she talked so freely about who she was with anyone, but as she and Erik had been up in the early hours yesterday morning, it appeared she had felt comfortable enough to let it all out. She noted how he remained guarded however, not explicately sharing any details of his childhood. Only the recent years had he discussed— after some bribing and pleading on Maggie's part.
A yawn escaped her chapped lips, the warmth of her duvet giving her a sense of comfort, and for a moment, she froze. Home— she felt a sense of safety here. She could feel joy bubbling, but the same feelings of losing a home raced through her mind.
What has been given, can be taken away, she remembered bitterly, pushing herself up and throwing the duvet aside, the cold morning air touching her skin, and the hairs on her arms rose.
With a soft sigh, Maggie's feet hit the hardwood floor and she rummaged through the small amount of her belongings to pick out some clothes and turned towards the bathroom floor to take a shower.
As she stepped inside and the hot water cascaded down her skin, she let the memories of yesterday settle back in.
"You must play all the time!" Maggie exclaimed in utter desperation, glancing at chessboard on the table in defeat before looking up at Erik. His face remained passive and hard to read, but she could see the small twitch at the corner of his mouth as he surpressed a smile.
"I thought you said you knew how to play?" He countered smugly, leaning forward in the armchair he was sitting in.
"Well, that was a lie, obviously." She breathed out, leaning back in her own chair, "I didn't think it was that hard."
"Are you strategic?"
"No?"
"Then it is hard."
Silence follows, and neither know what to say in that specific moment. They still are complete strangers, both likely with some trauma hiding behind their eyes they don't want to speak about out loud.
