Meant to be half

~20. Red Wedding.~

Silence. Ever since I left at four this morning, there was nothing but silence. Cate's eyes gloomed in the moonlight and she probably thought I wouldn't see the layer of water pooling. I could not look at her, not without breaking down.

We fought at night. Last night, before I was able to get all the necessities into my bag. There had been so much left for me to do and it had gotten nasty. We were tired beyond measures in a physical sense as well as a mental one. We all were not pleased with the situation. Though Cate was not showing any signs of it. It was as if she was not affected by any of it at all.

For me? I was fucking worn out the day we decided to face my wedding. Lying was not my specialty, unless it was used to betray myself. Though the rest... I wasn't actually made for this. It was one thing to get myself into a situation like this. Forced marriage and blackmailing.

However, fighting with Cate? Nope. For sure not that one. I teared up the second I had the chance to not have her eyes on me.

So when I was about to leave her standing at the doorstep, I mouthed what I was so afraid to voice only a few days ago. She wouldn't have seen it due to the darkness surrounding us. Yet I said it. It was more a reminder for myself. A reassurance I had a chance.

Glaring into the brightly lit mirror in front of me, I watched as the stylist secured the last strand of hair. Her hand brushed along my cheek moments later, getting started on the makeup. Tender and smoothly the brush slid along my skin.

It took a total of an hour to put a decent, yet somehow alienating look onto my face. I did not look like myself. Not at all, actually.

For the past hours I've been fidgeting with my fingers, earning the skin around my nails to redden and even rip open. Though each time I picked too much, I interrupted my actions only to start a few minutes after all over.

When the bells hit eight-thirty, I was standing in front of the huge mirror close by the windows. White gown hanging down on my body, the straps holding up the fabric covering my breasts, I kept trying to smooth out the dress as if it would calm down my own train of thoughts. My breasts looked quite odd. Strangely pressed together, yet round. Whatever happened here was not quite the thing I wanted to wear.

The strict sleek-bun pulled my whole head into my neck.

I think I had never worn such hairstyle. It reminded me an awfully lot of my— the woman who gave birth to me. Heart clenching at the memory of her shouting at me, after shoving me into the closest wall flooded my brain. Her green eyes full of hatred, like I was the one to take away her son.

"You look awfully pretty," An accented touched voice from behind me spoke. "It should be forbidden."

For the first time I allowed myself to smile slimly. "You think that slick hairstyle looks pretty?"

"It's not really you." Eve approached form behind, her gentle appearance meeting my gaze. The sharp wrinkles on her cheeks appearing, along with the smile on her lips. With her fingers she brushed along the straps over my shoulders. She looked very elegant. "You still make it look fabulous, darling."

The dress was something between casual and elegant, yet I had no idea what to think. Well, I did, though saying I kind of liked it, seemed wrong. I couldn't like it, but I sorta did.

"You think so? It is the only wedding-ish thing I am wearing."

The woman nodded, "Very much. How about you take this?" She took her bracelet off and slid it over my hand, causing the warm silver piece of art to embrace my arm. "Something old."

"Eve, this is too much. Isn't this your mother's?" My brows knitted, though the woman wrapped her hand around my wrist, stopping me from handing it back. The warmth and tenderness of her actions left me frozen.