Missing

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Happy Thursday loves!

Hope you enjoy!!

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Her panting breaths were like wispy ghosts in the cool Autumn air.

All was quiet but for the sound of her breathing and the beating of her sneakers on the pavement.

Enid had never been a fan of running.

Exercise of any sort had always felt more like a punishment than a fun activity to her.

Fiona had once joked that it was a miracle that she stayed so skinny with how lazy she was.

Enid shrugged it off, she just found reading books to be much more enjoyable than running or biking.

Yet, running was exactly what she needed this Friday morning.

Something to distract her from the swirling chaos in her mind.

A week had passed since she had been taken to the immortal estate.

Dante had driven her home that night and she had been unsurprised to find that his car was just as flashy and expensive as the other two had been.

The deep red color matching him well.

He had pulled up outside the deserted dorm building and brushed a kiss across her hand as he helped her out of the car.

"See you soon, little bird." Was all he had said before he was gone.

She hadn't seen any of them since.

Each of her classes with them had been canceled for the week.

Automated messages from the school had alerted their students they would be out due to "personal reasons."

Enid's heart had stopped.

The strange, surreal experience of that night was constantly in her mind.

She still wasn't sure what to think about it.

And now they had disappeared.

She couldn't help but notice the correlation.

With her school week so empty, she had many more hours to fill than she was used to.

She spent time practicing the cello, playing the songs for the Winter Gala over and over until she heard them in her sleep.

She got ahead on her studies for her math and history courses.

Enid did everything she could to keep busy.

But still her mind drifted back to that night.

Three men. Three sets of hands. Three pairs of lips.

Conflicting emotions warred inside of her.

Embarrassment, worry, joy, infatuation.

Her conscience reprimanded her for her lewd actions.

It brought forth images of Fiona looking down on her disappointedly.

It reminded her of the cultural standards that made such a relationship wrong.

More than wrong. Illegal.

But then there was her heart.

It sung tales of romance and kings.

Her thoughts consumed with the image of Dante clutching a book in his large hands.

Alexander on stage with his violin posed on his strong shoulder, his playing otherworldly.

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