Gold Dust Woman

𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔶 𝔱𝔴𝔬

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

the axeman cometh: part four

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

Those fingers in my hair

That sly come-hither stare

That strips my conscience bare

It's witchcraft

And I've got no defense for it

The heat is too intense for it

What good would common sense for it do?

It's such an ancient pitch

But one I wouldn't switch

'Cause there's no nicer witch than you.

Witchcraft

Frank Sinatra

1:30 ───────────༓───────── 2:57

THE SADDLE BAG OVERFLOWED WITH FOOD AND DRINK, things that Misty had claimed as collateral, as the Cajun girl followed behind the redhead. Her brow furrowed as she looked around Corey's office. She could feel the change in the atmosphere that surrounded her in comparison to that of the rest of the academy. Her eyes locked on the single photo frame that sat on the dark oak desk, her features relaxing as she reached out to pick it up. Corey didn't panic or hurry to put it away. Instead, she let the woman hold it in her hands as she took to rummaging through the drawers against the wall.

Misty's fingers traced the photo protected by a delicate pane of glass. She let out a soft sigh as she took in the image of the trio laughing, smiling, enjoying each other's company. Her suspicions were confirmed with one simple glance at the frame in her hands; Corey was exactly who she said she was.

"You two belong together," the woman said. Her eyes flicked up to land on Corey's confused face. The redhead gave the other witch a sad smile when Misty wiggled the frame towards her, accompanied by an obligatory nod. She swallowed hard, finding what she was looking for.

The sound of the younger witches arguing over what was going on filtered into the room as Zoe clamored down the stairs after putting Madison to bed. The three young girls bickered back and forth as they tried to figure out what they were going to tell the Supreme.

"Better yet," snapped Queenie. She was following Zoe down the hallway with an angry thud. "What are we going to tell Cordelia?"

"It's not our place to tell anyone anything," Zoe snapped back. Her hushed, annoyed tone followed her defensive demeanor. It wasn't her problem to solve, though she knew she would have done the same if she were in Corey's shoes— or would it be considered Corey's cloak? The redhead cleared her throat.

"Thank you," Corey stood up from her spot on the floor where she had been rummaging elbow-deep through her belongings. The old hand-me-down radio felt heavy in her grasp. "For helping me bring her back." She shook her head, struggling to keep her emotions in check. She took in a deep breath, able to feel the blonde's eyes on the device in front of her.