𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
❝ I'm practically cursed!
why on earth
would you ever
want to take a
chance on me? ❞
｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
in which eleanor knightley is introduced to the life she had always been hidden fr...
Memories were one of the things that Eleanor Knightley never thought she would need. After all, she imagined she already had enough of them; the good, the bad, and the worse.
Her supine body lay motionless on the long oak table as the four surrounded her. Eleanor looked at peace for the first time in days, her eyebrows were not knitted together, nor were there creases digging into her forehead and over the bridge of her nose from an everlasting frown. Just this once, the brunette couldn't have looked anything other than serene.
The soft breaths escaping her rosy lips were the only indication of the life that inhibited her motionless form. Although they never ceased, their timid sound was hard to catch and sometimes– just sometimes– a flicker of a thought eclipsed their minds: anyone could mistake her for dead, no matter the pulsing heat coursing through her body or her warm skin.
Hecate didn't need to ask to know of the worrisome things that the demigods and satyr thought– felt even. As a goddess, she could simply tell from the stares impaling the Knightley girl, who lay on the table, looking as divine as an angel. The woman watched too. She noticed how the teenager hadn't lost some of the features she had as a child, instead, she simply grew into them. Time had certainly passed quickly.
And although all four people present in the room gazed at a girl who seemed to be enveloped in an angelic haze, no one, not even the goddess, could envision the pursuing current of memories spiralling in her mind.
★☆
The morning air was cold. It wasn't brutally cold, but it was just enough to ensure that all who trekked through the hazy mist enclosing the rolling hills wore a means to keep them warm. But, to a little girl prancing down the dew-laden, green spines, the air was a crisp delight. It didn't travel down her spine to evoke a shiver that shook her body, nor did it allow the accumulation of goosebumps upon her arms. That was why she adored this type of cold. It was what she considered borderline sweater weather, meaning, to her, it was acceptable to dance upon the fresh earth in nothing but a white dress and pale bare feet.
She ignored the man calling behind her, instead, choosing to suddenly sprint to the sun, which was peeking at her as it arose from beneath the horizon. A squeal threatened to leave her lips as she came to a stop on the peak of a hill. The fog began to fade as the blistering ball of warmth decided to spare some of the white sunlight on the earth below, reflecting off of crystalline spheres in memory of the storm the night before.
