𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐀 | (𝙣.) 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙟𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙣𝙚'𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙, 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩, 𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛, 𝙤𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚
──── In which she falls for his darkness and he falls for her light, until death does them apart.
《...
The house was nothing like Clary expected, but a lot better.
It was big but not too big, had a high ceiling, large arched windows that you could see right into the garden of the neighbors across the street and light flew through them gracing the air without favor, illuminating the sweet-toffee browns of the wooden floor.
She had noticed the lonely nails diffused across the walls, which she could only assume were once holding frames of pictures belong to the former homeowner. Seeing these little nails waiting to be disguised behind photographs made her promise to herself that she would take as many pictures as she can so they could hang them on these walls - if not for the nails, then for the family that soon, she will have to leave behind.
She wondered if these walls could become her home at some point, and if she could express her dreams and ideas. She already made up her mind to change the pale color of the walls - perhaps some pastel-colored wallpaper, although she really doubted her father's and brother's acceptance of the concept.
Nonetheless, she found it absolutely wonderful. She could already see herself sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace and write in her notebook of all her fantasies and daydreams - it was, to no one's surprise, her escapism, since she was told of her doomed fate.
As opposed to her, Chris hadn't paid much thought to the first floor, and waltzed into the house with the determination to climb up the stairs and declare his room, which he obviously wished to be the biggest one. Meanwhile, both of their parents were unpacking the boxes from the car into the house, but Clary was oblivious to it. She was so mesmerized by the new house that she allowed herself to walk around the empty rooms and study them with awe.
"Clary, hon," Linda's voice echoed through the walls all the way from the front door to the kitchen, "Would you like to go upstairs and pick a room?"
"I, uh.." She blinked a few times before turning on her heel and walking out of the kitchen, back to the living room, "Yeah. Do you need some help with these boxes, though?"
"That's the last one so, you're free to go." The father said with a wink as he closed the door behind him with his leg, hugging the box in his arms tightly as he watches his daughter sending them a smile and walking up to the upper floor.
It was nothing too unusual - a narrow hallway with a beige-toned carpet that was soft enough to make her feel like she's floating on the clouds with each step she took, and finally; the rooms.
She peeked in the first door she saw where her brother was already judging and pouting, something she found very much amusing.
"Already found something to complain about?" She snapped him out of his thoughts with a mocking grin.
