antebellum [t. riddle]

xxvi.

december 1944
tw: graphic depictions of substance abuse, blood

when sicaria woke up the following morning, she had to take a calming drought before she worked herself into a panic. she was almost nauseous thinking about the lapse in judgement that had led to last night. there weren't enough occlumency barriers in the world to stop her from hypothesizing about what riddle or any of their friends were thinking. she didn't know how to prepare herself at all, not knowing how to play this, nor what he said to them in the common room after she left. 

she felt out of control.

she got dressed, and then sat on her bed, seriously considering not going to any meals today, but that was cowardly. 

sicaria stood with renewed bravery, but stopped short as she passed the mirror. she gazed at herself, looking at the hickeys and the bite mark on her neck. 

she slumped on the floor in defeat, casting way too many more glamours than was necessary, but enough that it looked like there was nothing on her neck. 

she took several deep breaths and stood. she reached for the doorknob, but at the last second swerved back toward the center of her room. 

stop tearing your hair out, she scolded herself as she walked in circles. he's a boy. just a boy, you nympho. relax.

in fact, she spent so long pacing and thinking that she already had a lie ready for when they inevitably asked why she stormed off last night. 

i hate him. i hate him so much. 

she hated how he made her feel. 

she walked out of her dorm before she manufactured another reason to disappear into nothingness. 

she made her way through the crowded halls the same way she always did every morning, forcing her mind and body to return to normalcy. her pace was determined; she would not be scared away.

"morning," she greeted dropping her bag on the floor next to breakfast table as she sat down on the end of the row next to thomas. she had considered not going, and truly wished she hadn't upon looking at their smug, all-knowing faces. 

if there was a god, she'd thank him personally that riddle was not here.

merlin give me strength.

"morning," adonis said brightly. too brightly. adrien smiled at her.

"did you have a nice evening, edwards?" abraxas said with as much phony politeness as he could muster. she didn't scowl at him, she just stared.

she stood, set down her coffee before she could even drink it, grabbed her bag and left the hall, hearing "damn it, malfoy!" on her way out. she didn't wait for the newspaper, riddle could have it. 

speak of the devil. she passed him in the hallway on her way out of the hall. she saw him before he saw her, and she noticed that he also had placed glamours along his neck and lips. when he finally laid eyes on her, he seemed to stiffen slightly, but nodded in acknowledgement at her in the same manner he always did. 

she's leaving early, he thought. what have those idiots said now?

they passed each other, making no further eye contact, but they barely made it ten feet away from each other before sicaria was stopped in her tracks. 

"ah, miss edwards," her head snapped to the left and she let out an exasperated sigh as leonov seemed to materialize from the shadows. "i've been meaning to speak to you."