arescere ✿ xavier thorpe

²⁶

(yes i'm still alive)

26 - to graveyard promenade

mortica stood before her former best friend, the 1991 class of nevermore book rested in her cold pale hands. a smile lifted onto her features as she held it.

"our old yearbook, i haven't laid eyes on this in over 20 years. should good times we had, didn't we, larissa?" she grinned, a grin never looking so unnatural upon her face.

"some of us better then others." the women spoke, no smile on her face. she was indicting herself through school, as well as others.

"don't be so modest. you always filled a room with your presence, like a stately sequoia tee."

"and i guess that makes you the lumberjack."

"there's that bitting sense of humour i always adored, but you are right larissa. some better than others, do you remember those poor belfiore children?" and wednesday perked up. belfiore. like peter belfiore.

"there's a belfiore here again, yes?" gomez piped up as he heard his wife mention the name he could never escape.

"peter belfiore." ms weems nodded softly.

"francoise's son?" morticia questioned looking down at the book. the picture of the beautiful girl with a claw mark over her face. hyde. this scared morticia, remembering how the girl had screamed and wailed as she tried to fight the hyde. hyde's were banned from nevermore, so surely peter couldn't be like his mother-

"william's." she added. his auntie then, morticia nodded. william belfiore. the handsome man she was promised too. his picture as handsome as always. pale sharp features, green eyes and curved lips. the replica of the boy by the fountain.

"oh that poor boy." mortica cried, but the apple doesn't fall to far from the tree. she wondered how williams was today. would he be here then? would she see that handsome face? she loved gomez more then her hearts content, but she was intrigued of what william grew to be. was he still handsome? still had women falling from his arms? or did he finally accept how he felt for his roomate. the thorpe boy.

"oh. my pictures are gone." morticia spoke as she flipped through the book to he page. morticia frumps page was gone. leaving the cringle of the edge. ripped out.

"really? well that is odd." larissa covered.

"may i borrow this for the weekend? that wat gomez and i can take a little walk down memory lane." she grinned. the thought of the belfiore and thorpe parents still lingering in her mind. and across campus. the heir of thorpe sat staring at the heir of belfiore.

xthorpe: can we talk?

xthorpe: peter

xthorpe: i didn't mean it

xthorpe: where are you going? to town?

xthorpe: let me buy you a coffee

xthorpe: you can't shut me off

belfiore.p: watch me

and peter placed his phone face down as he sunk into the booth at the weathervane. the smell of coffee hitting him like bricks as he sat for a moment. and just inhaled. the pressure of parents week drifting away. no nevermores and their parents were here at the moment. infact the shop was rather empty. just him and some old man reading his newspaper when tyler walked up to him, holding a mug.

"are you okay?" the boy mumbled, as he seeped into the booth opposite peter.

"i'm fine." peter spat as he reached for the mug. taking a small sip of the hot chocolate. and for a moment, everything was okay.

"yeah right, how's your arm?" the boy seemed uninterested in his answer, calling out his bullshit. and peter looked up at the boy from over his mug. he didn't recall tyler being around for the arm incident, and news outside nevermore was unseen. maybe wednesday had told him?

"my dad's the sheriff."

"oh yeah, it stings a bit." he commented. rubbing his clothed arm slightly. the tingling feeling seemingly brandishing his skin. tyler watched his antics, guilt settling deep in his gut. he could see the markings from under the boys shirt. the rest of his uniform stuffed in his satchel bag. he could see the deep cuts, the bruised skin around the tears. and he took a shaky breath. until the table grew cold. and the gloomy girl walked past the window, life seemingly draining from the sky above as she did. side eyeing through the window to the two boys. motioning for peter to promenade with her.

"duty calls." he stated as he stood. tyle almost laughing as the boy bid a goodbye to the coffee boy before following his way to the exit. tyler could only watch him go, eyes lingering over the gloomed girl. he wondered if he should talk to her. he hadn't spoke to her since the dance. since she had left him standing in painted rain. his suit still hung out on the garden chair. shades of red neve to disappear from the fabric.

"what happened here?" peter questioned as he found himself stood before a melted figure. it's face dripping and unrecognisable. he didn't remember seeing this in town, like ever.

"i did it."

"didn't doubt it." he spoke, letting out a small laugh. yet both found themselves standing silently. it made him wonder. does wednesday consider him a friend? sure she didn't really speak to him, open up. but he found himself enjoying it. he didn't feel pressured to always be communicating. he could sit with her for hours and his social battery would never drain.

"morticia addams." peter commented, wednesday pulling her eyes from the melted state. finding her mother striding towards the towns graveyard. holding a rose in her hand. and wednesday's mood changed, only a flicker of change. but now she was intrigued. why was her mother floating into the graveyard? the two sneaked to the edge of the fence watching the women delicate walk across grass. stopping before a headstone, a name he couldn't quite see. they watched intensely as she twirled the rose in her fingers. before lifting it to throw. her other hand ripping the head of the ros off. and she threw the rose stem to the grave before walking away. rose petals still held tightly in her hand. wednesday opening the gate to follow her mother. wanting to know which gave she went to whilst peter watched the older women. who walked away, unfazed. reading headstones as she pass. before she came to one of the newer ones. the headstone from the past decade or so. she leaned down. placing the rose petals softly on the grass grown around the tombstone. before scurrying away. garrett gates was written on the tombstone with the stem. the thorns digging into the dirt as if trying to hurt the man even in death.

"who's garett gates." he questioned, when he received no answer from wednesday he found himself turning to the second grave. rushing over he noticed the petals morticia gently rest down where in the shape of and upside down coss. odd. yet he found himself frozen at the name etched on stone.

francoise galpin nee belfiore
loved wife and mother
tainted by evil