Daisy in the garden of roses {Gilbert Blyth x Oc}

The closeted stairwell

(Fully edited)

To be blunt Alice didn't want to return home, she wasn't afraid of another scolding rather she was afraid of what she might find. Standing on the steps of the estate she was fighting not to run back to the cliff where she felt lighter than air. Heavy footsteps met beside her, "You know the door is up there right?" She turned her head quickly to be met with the boy she had recently said goodbye to. A goodbye that turned out to be more of an awkward exchange of waves if anything.

Neither of the teens is awkward on their something about the other made them revert to their shells. It was almost laughable to watch them speak to each other around groups. Yet when they sat beside the edge of a cliff just themselves conversation felt like no challenge at all. Alice's head held high as it normally is, her gaze set on the golden door handle, "I know." Gilbert chuckled under his breath, "Are you just going to stand here or put the door to good use."  Alice looked beside her to the naturally smirking boy with an annoyed glare, "You're not helping Blythe." He nudged her forward gently, "There is that better."

To her surprise it was helping, giving her a push forced her to be closer to the door. It put her in a situation where she was already in motion, her fingers gripped around the cold door handle. She could feel his eyes on her, "Goodbye Blythe." He stepped down the staircase, "Goodbye Daisy."  Alice stood there her hand on the handle staring at the beautiful door. The door was carved by hand by her grandfather, most of the house had been hand carved, and the windows were made to hold small daisy emblems in the center of vines.

Forcing herself to push open the door Alice let out a soft sigh. She didn't turn to the door as it shut rather letting it close on its own, she didn't care whether she was loud or if she was perfectly silent. She suspected most of her siblings to be asleep seeing as by the time she and Gilbert had begun to walk to the estate the sun was set. The scent of freshly baked bread stained the air.

Common sent found when something had gone astray in the household. Making it clear that Emma already knew. The warmed house was silent, the creak of the floorboards under Alice's feet was the only audible sound. Her family was used to tragedy each dealing in their way. Some slept their days away and owned the nights but others wept until their eyes went dry, and like their mother, Theo drank.

Standing in front of the study Alice held a fierce glare. Theo was sprawled across a chair his legs crossed hanging off a footstool, one arm resting on his chest the other gripped onto the same crystal whiskey bottle from before. Most of the liquor was gone and fighting its way through Theo's system. He painted a picture that so seemly resembled her mother. Sprawled out across the chair asleep the hint of tears stained on her cheeks.

Alice could excuse her mother's habit. Seeing as Willow, her mother, was a long-time veteran of the war with her mind. She suffered from what in simplest terms was a deep depression, brought on by what her mother would only know. She was vocal about it to Emma who intern told Alice. Yet neither of the girls knew the reason for her common state of mind, the secret stayed between the three women although Alice suspected her father already knew.

Under her breath, Alice muttered with a sharp tone, "He lies there in this damned room with that bottle for what? What could the world have done that would be so bad to him, to force him into drinking, forcing him into the damn habit that rots his life." She hushed herself sighing. She didn't feel the need for sleep any longer, rage coursed through her veins.

Without another thought, she stoned off not towards her room but rather to a closet. Turning down a hall, past the doors to carouse guest rooms and past the library that took up most of the home. She reached a door at the end of the hall the golden handle slightly rusted, the wooden door decaying at the tips. Reaching up she stood on the tips of her toes, running her fingers against the top of the door frame, "Where did that wench leave it last?"

By wench she meant her grandfather's, first wife, she was a wonderful woman, about the only thing Alice knew, was her mother referred to her as a wench. Giving her no name other than so. Following the same practice her mother had her grandfather's second wife. She only knew her as the wench, having no name to put to her delicate face she did what she knew.

Her fingers wrapped around the golden key a triumphant look on her face, "There you are." Pushing the key into the locked door she shook it a few times, it took a few good shakes before she could get the rusted door to open. Alice had been to the estate when she was younger, that's how she found this 'closet', which wasn't a closet at all.

Making sure to close the door behind her Alice studied the small room. The air was stale and yet the walls alone filled it with life, painted with an array of roses unlike most of the house which was covered in small daisies. The family took deep pride in their name if you can't tell by now. Vines were strung from planters at the ceiling of the room and in the center, a spiral stairwell led up. Alice ran her fingers against the wall of the small room.

There were slight raises in the roses from where they had been hand-painted each was a little different than the other. The vines tickled against her fingers. She took in the windowless room, "So tell me what are you doing here?" She was speaking to no person other than her curiosity. Pressing her foot against the stairs she crossed her fingers, "Please don't break." She repeated the same words over and over. The wood creaked under her light steps.

Although Alice knew of the room she had never made it to the top. Her grandfather would pull her from the door and scream whenever she got the door open. She had fond memories of the older man, his warm smile always lit up a room. Under her breath she began to plead for her life on the stairs, "I know I have a temper and I can be idiotic at times. I don't talk much but that's only because people well off can be terrifying. I will stop with all the complaints just please don't break under my feet."

The higher she went the more her heartbeat quickened and the closer she got it her curiosity bubbled. Adventures helped with her anger, they stopped her from yelling at the top of her lungs. She reached the top of the staircase to a cracked door and quietly thanked the stairs for not killing her.

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A tad bit of info: Gilbert waited for a few minutes before leaving after Alice closed the door to see if she was going to run back out.