Credits: Woodandwaxwings
"Do you think we'll ever be able to leave?" Y/n asked as Victor joined them on the roof in front of their shared room's window. "I don't think I'll ever be sure. I'm not sure I can take being here much longer." Victor tilted his head upward towards the clear star-filled sky. "I'm planning on leaving tomorrow if you'd like to go with me." Victor kept his eyes on the sky as he slid his hand closer to Y/n's, he hesitated before grabbing the other's hand. Y/n glanced down as he intertwined their hands before gazing at his friend's side profile. "I'd like that."
Jacob sat awkwardly at the table, trying not to draw his gaze to the empty porcelain plate that sat at the empty head of the table. He cleared his throat as he readjusted himself in the wooden chair. "So, this isn't some messed up dream, right?" He asked as he cast his eyes around the table, no longer able to stop himself from staring at the empty end. "I'm sorry, what's the point of setting an empty spot?" He asked turning his head to the other end of the table to face Miss Peregrine.
Y/n sat on his knees as tears burned his eyes. The hollowgast laying dead not too far away from him. Nearly forgetting to breathe as they looked over Victor's limp body before them. They ended up sitting there over his eyeless love's body for what felt like hours of the sun burning into their skin before Fiona and Hugh found the two. The two lovers looked over their friend with tear-stained faces as they watched as Y/n blubbered and sputtered over their own forbidden love with crimson liquid dried and stained over their hands. They both knew what it was, but they would rather not feed the dark thoughts that were already bubbling.
Jake sat nervously on one of the sofas in the sitting room as they waited on Horace to get comfortable. He couldn't help but notice that strange outlier again, except this time instead of an empty seat it was in the form of a knit blanket all of the children refused to touch. They avoided gazing at the greek letters designed into it as if it would scorch their souls if they did, it was unusual. He inspected the open blanket, αγαπητή μου it read. He didn't know what that meant but he knew it must mean something important, important enough to be forever captured in an item of comfot.
After what happened to Victor the rest of the home walked around Y/n like they were made of glass, they were confused and worried as they watched them sit by Victor's bedside crocheting. They didn't know what they were making or why, but they knew it was his way of mourning and that it shouldn't be disturbed. They felt awful, while they each mourned their friend in their own way the children knew Bronwyn and Y/n had it the hardest. They saw the way the light left Bronwyn's eyes the moment Y/n returned with her brother in their arms, Hugh and Fiona's tears struck trailing behind their sluggish form.
