Fire

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A/N: I would suggest playing the video above, preferably on repeat, as it's short.


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Stones and flimsy twigs wet with rain snapped and crunched beneath heavy, black boots.

The girl who wore them was all too cautious of the thorny bushes that branched along either side of the forest path, seeming to beckon those who walked the dirt road with boney and sinister fingers. So, she had slipped on a comfortably fitting, yet protective jacket before she kissed her father good-bye on her way out the door. And, In order to keep her beautiful (H/C) locks dry and safe throughout the light drizzle of rain, she also had a beanie comfortably snug on top of her head.

This girl wasn't one for makeup. It wasn't like she needed it, anyway. She usually got enough attention from both males and females alike as it was.

Her dad usually said something along the lines of, "You can thank your mum for that," whenever she'd complained about it. Yes, it was true that her mother was as beautiful as she was kind. Yet, she had to die so young.

It was that fucking curse. That—.. god forbidden curse placed on the (L/N) family name centuries ago.

That's what killed her mother.

You see, a demon had bewitched the (L/N) bloodline back in 1812. It was a horrid sight and a horrid curse. It was said through nighttime stories told to the (L/N) children that with a booming voice, a she-devil cursed them one unfortunate night;

"May you and your family's very blood be poisoned with Hell's Nectar, so that my brothers and sisters may feast upon your forbidden flesh for as long as you carry this curse!"

Thus and thereafter, the (L/N)s held a component in their blood called "Hell's Nectar", mentioned by the demon who placed the curse; a highly addictive juice originating from the Forbidden Fruit, said to only find itself in the most hidden parts of the Underworld, and thus often disregarded as mere legend. The smell of the fruit itself was said to be absolutely intoxicating to any of Hell's inhabitants, and the actual taste is told to be pure ecstasy, and thus irresistible.

Anyway.

It surely didn't help the fact that the girl with the puffy coat and boots was taking a short route to a bus stop, which would inevitably transport her to Lakeside Boarding School for Junior Demonology.

Granted, she wasn't a demon, but then again, no human school would've been willing to take anything magically cursed.

The girl's name was (Y/N), and it was neatly engraved in sharpie on the (F/C) keychain coiled to the large suitcase she dragged behind her, which couldn't have been too pleasant on her arms as the wheels often found themselves caught between rocks and grass on the short journey to the bus stop.

(Y/N) squinted up to the sky through breaks of the leaves and tree branches above, only to drizzle her rosy cheeks and nose with small droplets of water. She didn't seem to mind the rain all too much, and rather found it refreshing. Mediocre showers like this often reminded her of affectionate and wet kisses all over, which was sort of a both amusing and an uncomfortable thought.

Finally passing the clearing in the forest, her boots eventually met concreted sidewalk. It was all too convenient that the dirt pathway ended directly to the left of a bus stop. And, by the look of (Y/N)'s watch (which was so kindly bought as a birthday gift by her father), she was just on time. This was considered late by her own standards.

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