Stitch in Time𓃒 𝐉. 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫

𝑉. 𝑊𝑖𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝐶𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

As much as Roselyn enjoyed Frank ramble on about historical things constantly, she didn't feel like listening to him right now. That was why she had walked further ahead than the two of them. Taking to the head of the group, the white-haired female with blue eyes got to the bushes first.

Standing over the bushes, she spotted the large, claw-like stones and studied them with wonder. The woman was curious on how the stones had gotten into the positions that they were in.

The couple's hushed voices came from behind and Roselyn suddenly felt like she was intruding on their honeymoon. She chewed the inside of her cheek and looked to the ground briefly. The female was only here because they refused to let her be on her own after the war, especially with how traumatic it was.

The lady kept to herself as the other two caught up with her, in their own part of brush to have their intimate time. Not like Roselyn minded, she felt her knees push against the green bush, and crouched down when she remembered there was meant to be a celebration soon.

The pale-faced human felt that she was put in a familiar situation as the bush surrounded her body a little bit. It reminded her of the last five years where she spent most of her time fighting a war. She found comfort in the green scenery despite being nineteen and experiencing more than what people her age would have been through.

Turning her head in the direction of the town's lights that lit up the area, the faint sound of footsteps coming up the hill made her drop down to her stomach instinctively, peeking through the bush to the left of her, eyes narrowed.

A group of ladies made themselves known, carrying lanterns as they spread out into a circle around the large, grey stones. Roselyn kept silent as they went into their respective spots and seemingly started the celebration in a formal crouch, raising the lantern above their heads slightly before bringing themselves back up.

Roselyn watched their hand movements closely, interested in how this tradition came to be, nonetheless, still existing in 1945. As they sauntered slowly around the stones in their ancient ritual, the female spying on them felt like she was invading something incredibly private.

Something that they shouldn't be seeing.

Something she wasn't meant to witness, but her body was frozen in place, keeping her gaze locked on to the group of people who were dancing. Her dress pricked at her thigh, but she didn't acknowledge it as she tried to keep as low as possible to stop them from seeing her obviously white hair if they were to look closely.

Spotting a familiar face in the crowd, Roselyn's eyes widened. "Mrs. Graham," she muttered out, referring back to the daytime where the exact lady had giving Claire and herself a tea-reading. The more the dance continued, the more entranced Roselyn felt, and the more the intrusive feeling grew.

The hair on the back of the adult soldier's head prickled up and she tensed up, her gaze swivelling to each woman dancing as she observed the scene in front of her. The celebration somehow got even more intense than it was before as they paired up, dancing around each other and their lanterns not once failing to brighten up the person who held them.

They began to go around in circles, whilst Mrs. Graham looked into the direction to her left, arms wide open as she opened her mouth and spoke a language the white-haired beauty could not recognise. The female's blue eyes brightened as the rest of the hair along her body stood up, and that is when the sinking feeling finally was recognised.

They were definitely not meant to be here.

Looking in the direction of Claire and Frank, she locked eyes with the black-haired female, whose eyes widened when she saw Roselyn's eye chance as they glowed in the darkness surrounding her. This was a look Claire was often familiar with and faced the celebration once more, too shocked to speak about anything.