❛my reputation's never been worse so, he must like me for me❜
⫍𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘯 '𝘷𝘢𝘭 '𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘯 was born to fulfill the legacy of her coven: to be the strongest witch alive. after a tragedy, she finds herself in beacons hills, discovering the de...
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⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼○•∙chapter fourteen ☪︎
❛breaking point.❜
Val loved walking alone. There was something so beautiful simple of the sound of nothing, the simplicity of grounding her feet on the pavement, the freeing feeling of being just her, just embracing the world around her. Maybe she was feeling optimistic, she thought, but everything around her seemed to look brighter, the deep hues and striking complexities of color standing out to the girl. The sky was a deep indigo, gradually turning blacker with every step she took closer to her house.
Perhaps it was that she told Scott and Lydia about her horrible week. Well, it was somewhat confiding, She left out a few major details, such as her arms practically lighting on fire and the fact that the ghosts of her coven haunted her because she killed them. Nevertheless, it was a huge step for her to even open up to them and for that, she reveled in the small victory.
Small rocks poked the sole of her shoe as she walked up to her house. The lights were off yet the blinds were open, illuminating the deserted room in a hue of silver light. It wasn't unusual for Maryse to leave every once in a while so she didn't question it.
She pushed the door open and hugged her jacket up on the wall. It would be nice to go to the recital to support her friends, to be surrounded by them, but no. Val only barely confided in Scott and Lydia and then let them go their separate ways. She had yet to figure out a way to tell Stiles. She had spent the past day laying awake in her bed, her back pressed against the mattress and her eyes wide open examining the ceiling, contemplating different ways to tell him.
Val shut it out again. She had the house all to herself; she was going to look into the Darkhold. Again. It felt like a losing battle, like with every attempted charge she lost more and more men, making the attack weaker and weaker, but she didn't care. That stubborn resistance got her to where she was today,
She sat down at the dining table and jotted down potential ideas. Regretfully, she wrote down the one thing that came from her brainstorming. Trip to New Orleans? She felt her own guilt fill her up as soon as the ink kissed the paper.
Val had not gone back ever since the Harvest. The idea of going back would have crushed her maybe even just a week ago. Now that she was forced to see her coven the band-aid was already ripped off. Her fear of the Supreme developed into pure rage. All her dead ends in Beacon Hills made her feel more and more useless. More stupid. The voice of the Supreme echoed in her ears.
She didn't know how long she stared at the beige sheet before her. The sound of the doorbell broke her from her daze. The clock said something past 10 pm. Val felt her eyebrows knot. It would have been peculiar for Maryse to leave but then come back so quickly. However, she knew that whoever was behind the door was someone she knew. It was a comfortable anticipation, setting off the faintest spark of fear. She was overthinking it, she reassured herself.
