Sigil | Ghost The Band

Audacity

The wood in the fireplace was burnt to nothing but simmering embers and they were still hunched over the books. Terzo hasn't said anything for quite a while, which was still foreign to her but then again, neither had she. Calliope had migrated to the floor, her back against the sofa, staring at the dying fire.

She listened to him mumbling under his breath, her thoughts running amuck. She thought she got away, she felt she'd bargained her way out of that situation.

But that was not the case.

She wanted to cry, she should've cried, but she couldn't bring herself to feel anything but humiliation and betrayal. Omega had her looking for the book that would seal her fate and Imperator had her believing that she had some semblance of freedom. No wonder she only really trusted Terzo, it was probably an instinct.

Propping her chin onto her arm, she closed her eyes, the sleep that evaded her earlier now beckoning her closer. Her arm slipping off her knees brought her back to reality, dazed.

"I should probably go to bed," She mumbled, standing up and stretching slightly, her shoulder popping painfully.

"No," Terzo murmured, darting between two books.

"No? What do you mean, no?"

"No, you are not going to your room. It's not safe."

"That's what you always say," Cal grumbled to herself, gathering her hair to tie it on top of her head. Sighing in resignation, she flopped onto the purple velvet sofa. "Where do you suggest I sleep, then?"

Not saying anything, he pointed to his bed.

"I fucking knew you were going to say that."

"Good."

She wasn't going to fight him on this. Her room feels so far away, not to mention the anxiety the dark hallways would induce. Plus, who was going to deny a bed like that ? A mentally-unstable person, that's who.

"When are you going to sleep?"

"It's a big bed, stop stressing," He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Not what I asked."

Terzo paused, looking a bit flabbergasted. "Oh. In a while, I feel like I am making progress."

"Don't stay up too late. You, unlike me, have responsibilities."

"Don't fucking remind me."

Cal chuckled, walking to the bed. "Find a light, you're damaging your eyes."

"Mhm."

She climbed into the bed from the foot instead of like a normal person, but that's only because she wanted to be in the middle of it. Collapsing into the mountain of pillows and onto the silk sheets, she sighed in relief as her muscles relaxed.

"Holy shit, your mattress was crafted by the gods."

Terzo chuckled, somewhat bitterly. "Only the best for Papa, I suppose."

"You talk about it as if you're not Papa. You don't like it?"

"That's an understatement, mio caro." His tone bore a sense of finality like it was the end of the discussion.

"Can we circle back to that? I feel like you don't want to talk about it."

"Only if you tell me about your past, too."

"That's reasonable." And it was. If there was a time she had to disclose her past, that time was now. Given the circumstances. "I'm going to pass out soon so, you know... Goodnight."

He replied in similar, and she fell asleep without a second thought.

***

The morning light crept through the windows and Calliope awoke slowly from a dreamless sleep. Her eyes burned as soon as they were opened, sleep still weighing her eyelids down. It took her a minute to recall where she was, and she inhaled deeply through her nose, turning onto her opposite side.

As she expected, Terzo was asleep next to her, a book still opened on the mattress in front of him. She took note of the page number and nudged it out from under his hand, shutting it.

The movement didn't stir him in the slightest, and his soft snores continued.

She admired him for a while, purely because she could. He hadn't been bothered to take off his paint, and it was slightly smudged. He looked... at ease, in spite of the menacing eye paint.

Surprisingly, she didn't feel weird or out of place having slept where she did. It felt like the morning after a sleepover, and for a moment, she could pretend that yesterday's events hadn't happened.

"Are you staring at me?" He mumbled, shocking her out of her thoughts.

"Yeah, your paint is smudged."

"You," he grunted, rolling onto his back. "Are the only person who ever has the audacity to say that to me."

"You should be used to it, then."

"I am."