the sun and
sea were just
beings waiting
to die out
ALL CREDIT GOES TO THE CREATOR OF HARRY POTTER, EVEN IF I DO NOT SUPPORT JK ROWLING IN ANY WAY. I DO, HOWEVER OWN MY ORIGINAL CHARACTERS.
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CHAPTER TWO DESTINY AND DEATH
FEELINGS ARE CONFUSING. Wren knew that for sure. They were messy, aggravating, and in her mind when not needed. And as much as the girl hated to admit it, she didn't get to choose who she loved. Unfortunately, in some ways she loved her mom because before Voldemort's wrath of destruction, there was a time when the once family of three went to the beach together and read bedtime stories to help Wren fall asleep. And as much as the girl wanted to, those memories —— those feelings —— would never go away, only the memories will tarnish and fade, but still the emotion was engraved into her heart as if it were made of tree bark.
Wren was so tired of pretending not to care about the people who despised her. She hated that they did, that the only version of Wren they knew was the girl with the sadistic smirk and bruised knuckles. But there is so much more that made up Wren Stonem, so many building blocks inside her that built who she was, and even if this anger that had consumed her was still inside her, it never burned down who she once was. The world had never seen the version of Wren Stonem where she went out catching butterflies. Where she made stories up in her head on a late, Summer's evening with a honeydew look in her emerald eyes. They never saw the girl who stayed up with her best friend to watch muggle teen romcom's on Friday's. Wren Stonem was fire, she obviously was, but she wasn't just that. The girl was a hopeless romantic who had a big heart, she was just too afraid to show it.
But—— as the heart said —— we don't get to control who we love or care for.
Wren Stonem did not want to care for Regulus Black or his skin and bone body. She didn't want to be concerned over the violet hues that sank under his dull eyes. But she was. She was concerned for a Death Eater. A Death Eater who was forced to become one, her heart told her, but her mind never stopped to control her, still a Death Eater! Wren was sure she was going absolutely insane, that surely you weren't meant to hear what your heart and mind were telling you. Yet, when she arose with the sun that chilled September morning, the girl listened to her heart for once in her mundane life. She slipped a note to Severine telling her where she would be instead of sitting with her at breakfast, and let her feet guide her to the darkest corner of the Slytherin table. She stopped in front of him, his eyes focused onto a book (a book she had never seen in the non restricted area of the library.) He still looked quite dead, as if his mind had been shut off and was being controlled from some other worldly force. But still, Regulus Black had some ethereal beauty to him, born with the sea at his fingertips and moon dust in his grey, golden eyes.
"Hi," Wren greeted in a monotone voice, a bored look contorting her pretty feautures. She was trying her best to not look like a. . .loser. It was bad enough that for some reason her heart was thumping considerably harder inside her, as if wanting to escape from its cage and jump into the teenage boy's hands.
