15. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗄𝖾𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗋𝗌

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𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗄𝖾𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗋𝗌

( I hope y'all are ready toread over 10k words 👩‍🦯 )

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( I hope y'all are ready to
read over 10k words 👩‍🦯 )

━━━━━━━━━━

Her hum had a happiness to it; a gentle tone. There was something carefree about the notes as they echoed in the room and nature itself began to awaken by just the sound of her voice. Her eyes rested upon the golden arcing rays, knowing the dark is far and ever lit by stars. The whistles from the trees became all the more powerful, as if the wind was it's conductor's wand, and together they are the song that calls forth the summer. Everything was in honeyed tones, so heavenly and soothing.

The sound of a soft coo returned her attention back to the bundle of joy resting in her arms. Her baby's smile was sweet as a summer fruit and filled her with a sunshine she never knew existed in the world.

She slid her pinky into her baby's open hand and watched as the fingers curled around it, a sleepy smile forming on her daughter's lips.

He entered the room, smiling brightly as he witnessed the sight in front of him. His two most precious love of his life.

Watching as she rocked back and forth on the chair with their miracle in her arms, singing a lullaby to her, he strode over to them and knelt down in front of them.

Just for them.

"She's beautiful," the mother murmured softly as she caressed the newborn's cheek.

"Just like her mother." He stroked his daughter's cheek too, briefly glancing up at his blushing wife.

"I'm so happy." Tears glistened in her eyes.

"As am I," he smiled fondly.

Peace?

Oh how unfortunate this emotion was short lived, turning into pieces of shattered glass.

After all it was forbidden for them to feel.

━━━━━━━━━━

   "Hey. It's me, Eve. Obviously you know that," Evelyn laughed nervously over the phone.

Elena, Jenna and Jeremy were sat in the living room listening to the voicemail she had sent to Elena. The younger twin had ran into their home as soon as she heard it, hoping Evelyn was still home and unfortunately she had left before she could stop her.

𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒, 𝗄𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗄𝖺𝖾𝗅𝗌𝗈𝗇Where stories live. Discover now