Book one of two.
Post war.
Odette Elara Viotto can't help but feel foreign in the place she grew up in, and seems to believably lie that she is coping like others around her.
After one dark wizard perishes, another forges- reeking havoc within the...
(!!TW!! This chapter contains mentions of blood and other triggering topics"
(This song goes well with his chapter btw)
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Odette Viotto-
I have seen the sea when it is stormy and wild; when it was quiet and serene; when it is dark and Moody. And in all it's moods, I see myself.
- Martin Buxbaum
Odette watched the bloody water swirl beneath her feet as it raced towards the drain. The hot water burned her skin, leaving bright red marks against her porcelain skin.
Her raven hair hung sloppily wet over her head, masking her emotionless stare.
Every muscle and joint in her body was achy from a night spent slumped over an uncomfortable wooden desk, though it was her heart that ached the most.
The girl managed to hide behind a dresser in the hallway just in time before Vivienne Emerson saw her as she left Odette's assigned bedroom.
Odette's heart sunk at the way the Emerson girls cerulean nightgown was crumbled, her hair bedraggled and an impish grin plastered on her face.
She contemplated whether or not to enter the guest bedroom, not knowing if she was truly ready to see what she knew she would.
So instead she fled to the only other guest bedroom in the house, the one she knew the Kepler boy to be staying in, and distracted her running thoughts by taking the shower she was so very desperate for.
She didn't even know how long she was stood there for, staring as her own blood flushed down the drain- letting the water stream down her face and sting at her eyes.
Odette stepped out of shower, wrapping herself in a white towel and stared back into the eyes of her reflection.
It felt as though she was staring at a stranger, someone she knew nothing about.
Why did she feel this way; was she upset? was she angry? was she just overthinking?
She felt doltish for believing the boy- infamous for acting amorously around any attractive female in Hogwarts- would not bat an eye at an older, very beautiful girl with soothing copper eyes and hair lustrous and thick.
A genius in the wrong position could look like a fool, she reminded herself. You're most likely overthinking this, you always do.
Staring back into eyes that seems to not belong to her felt all to familiar as of lately, as though that piece of her soul broken and preserved in the blade of a argent dagger was the piece that made her who she once was.
The vibrant green seemed to had faded from her irises, left behind was a mossy verdant hue beneath a sheer darkness- it looked as though her pupils were forever dilated.
