Woman of the Hour // volturi kings

23. flowers

1996

Claire sat on the edge of her bed, a photo frame clutched in her hands and silent tears running down her red cheeks. It was a photo from her parent's wedding day, her mother dressed in a simple lace dress and her father in the only suit he had ever owned. She wasn't present, she had been born 11 months later, but she had watched the home video over and over when she was little. They were so happy, their smiles so radiant and pure. She could almost hear their laughter as she traced the image with her shaking fingers.

She didn't doubt that the vampires in her living room could hear her, but that this point, she didn't care. She needed to let out her emotions, so she let her sobs violently shake her shoulders.

Downstairs, the three kings listened with aching hearts as her cries echoed through the residence. They were all fighting the urge to run upstairs and comfort her, despite her obvious wish to be left alone. It was heartbreaking. They could feel the flickering pain through their bond, and they wanted to take it away.

They sat in silence, all staring at the floor as they wrestled with their instincts. Caius, the ever-volatile brother, was the first to crack, launching himself from his seat and vanishing upstairs in the blink of an eye. He couldn't take it, he needed to comfort her.

He scooped her up into his arms, not giving her a moment to protest before he pried the photo frame from her fingers and placed it carefully back on her nightstand. He cradled her to his chest, her face buried into the crook of his neck. She melted into him, too exhausted to fight against the soothing affection from one of her soulmates.

His cool hand rubbed calming circles on her lower back while the other massaged her scalp gentle, lulling her to sleep once her tears dried up.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair, his voice soft and full of reverence.

His brothers still sat downstairs, exchanging a look, a silent conversation. They needed to help her, even if it meant making her face her demons.

﹌﹌﹌

Claire woke to patterned rays of light filtering through her lace curtains, warming her face in contrast to the cold seeping through her clothes. With blurry eyes, she looked up, eyes meeting Caius' peaceful face, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling as if he was breathing. She was still sprawled across him, her head on his chest. He must not have left her all night, and that thought flooding her with adoration for the immortal man beneath her.

"Good morning, piccolo," Caius' murmured, his eyes still closed. He could feel her staring at him, and he could hear the skip of her heart.

"Good morning," she said, her voice thick with sleep. She continued to stare as the sunlight danced across his marble skin, refracting into thousands of brilliant rainbow gleams.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked gentle, finally opening his eyes and looking at her. Her hair was messy, and her enchanting blue eyes were glazed over, still half asleep. He still thought she was the most beautiful woman to ever exist, he couldn't believe how lucky they had been with their soulmate.

"Much better, thank you. Thank you for staying with me," she buried her face back into his chest, earning a chuckle from Caius.

"You're welcome, piccolo."

Caius eventually managed to coax Claire out of bed with the promise of food and coffee. Her bare feet padded down the stairs and he silently followed her, their hands entwined. When they entered the kitchen, Marcus was sitting at the breakfast bar, a book in hand, and Aro was plating some delicious smelling breakfast.

"Good afternoon, mio caro," Aro greeted her as Caius guided her to a seat at the dining table. He glided over and placed a plate in front of her, piled high with her favourite pastries, the same ones he would bring her back in Italy.

"I blame jet-lag," she muttered. "Thanks, Aro."

She nibbled quietly while Caius made her a coffee. Marcus eventually joined her, taking the seat beside her and placing a firm hand on her knee.

"Amore mio," he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I hope you slept well."

"Sì," she relied. "Did you have plans for today?"

"No, we were going to be spending it with you. Although, there was something we wanted to do together."

"Oh?" she raised a brow at the brothers, her breakfast forgotten.

"We thought..." Aro hesitated, sparing a glance to his brothers. "We thought we could meet your parents."

﹌﹌﹌

Claire hated cemeteries. The endless rows of tombstones, the uneasy silence, the overwhelming feeling of emptiness. It all ate away at her, whenever she stepped foot in one. But this place, in particular, felt like it was it was creeping into her bones and weighing heavy in her chest.

The only reprieve she received was from the men beside her, Caius and Marcus each holding her hands, and Aro behind her, offering unwavering support as she looked down at the headstones of her deceased parents. There was a small bouquet of flowers rested against both slabs of granite, most likely from the Malloy's, and a framed photo of Claire, Jennifer and Michael sitting in between.

All she could do was stare at them as the tears rolled down her face, no sound leaving her trembling lips. So many emotions, so many memories were rocking her, but she knew she needed it. This was the closest she had felt to her parents since they died.

Silently, Jane appeared beside them, two large, extravagant bouquets in her arms, full of dark pink roses, forget-me-nots and white peonies. She approached the graves and knelt before them, placing one bouquet on each.

Jane couldn't remember her parents, but she imagined for mortals that it was a wound that would never close. Claire was her queen, but she also thought of her as a friend. She had been nothing but nice to her, so she wanted to repay that kindness. The flowers were all her idea, it was the least she could do.

"They're beautiful, Jane," Claire managed to choke out through tears. She dropped Caius' and Marcus' hands, and wrapped Jane in a tight hug. Jane could feel Claire's tears falling on her shoulder, soaking through her black silk shirt. With slight apprehension, worried about facing her masters' wrath, she wound her arms around her, rubbing soothing circles on her back while she continued to cry.

The kings watched on, all sporting small smiles. They were beyond thrilled that their mate was being accepted by the coven, and they were surprised that she had such an impact on their most stoic member. 

They all took turns comforting Claire, and eventually, when they had all unceremoniously taken a seat on the damp grass on her parent's graves, she had decided to share stories about them. About when her father tried to teach her how to ride a bike, only to end up tripping and going face-first into the back on his car, breaking his nose. And about her mother trying to teach her how to bake, which resulted in Claire somehow setting fire to the tray of cookies in the oven.

As she talked, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. She felt better, closer to her parents and closer to her kings. She didn't feel like she was avoiding her feelings anymore, she was accepting her loss and finally moving forward. 

a/n: i know i know, very late chapter. i don't focus very well when i'm stressed, and the state of the world and my country atm has been eating at me. feeling better though, so you'll have another chapter tomorrow as well! <3