opened : 07. 28. 2022. |
closed : 08. 28. 2022. |
completed : 08. 01. 2023. |
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⤜⤞ this is crazy. this is real. this is love. without love, what does the world amount to ⤝⤛
@_-windflower-_2022
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quaintrelle (noun) - a woman who emphasizes a life of passion
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ darkside by neoni
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CORDELIA DOESN'T REALLY KNOW WHERE SHE IS
The last thing Cordelia remembers clearly is going to get Echo a glass of water. They'd gone on a walk, and although Echo's tears didn't last long, they'd remained quiet, and her silence had bothered her enough to insist that her friend take a seat so she could find her a bottle of water of some kind around.
Dizzying thoughts pulsed in and out of her head as she grasped onto the tendrils of memory she'd managed to hold on too. Cordelia knew that someone was pulling her, she was vaguely aware of the hand on her arm, unfamiliar and viciously cold, and yet she felt powerless to stop it. Intermittent rays of street lights blared into her vision, rapidly forcing her back into a state of dreamy consciousness.
Where am I going?
She could hardly even grasp her steps in front of her, stumbling over her feet as an attempt to stutter out some kind of denial, some kind of argument towards the man dragging her away down a dark street.
Where is Echo?
Deep, dark dread pooled in her stomach, coating the insides of her thoughts. Cordelia could feel herself slipping, like she couldn't find anything to hold onto at all, like she was drowning somehow in her own buried soul. Her limbs wouldn't respond to the panic that had begun to take hold of her mind, the slow realization of what was actually happening beginning to grasp her very being in phantasmal talons.
I was drugged.
God. Racing adrenaline shot up her spine, and some soft, incoherent sound escaped her mouth, something like desperation as she attempted to articulate something; anything, really. The man's grip tightened against her wrist, and dull, flaring pain slowly began to encompass it. It was going to bruise, that much she knew. Fear sat heavy in her stomach, hollowed eyes darting back and forth from the street around them, anxious to find something that could help her.
Cordelia doesn't even feel like much of the night is even within reach of her memory, it feels muffled and distant, like trying to enhance a picture blurred by water. She can hardly remember the argument, the fury that had run deep into her chest like a bullet wound. She couldn't really explain why it had hurt so bad to see Echo yelled at, but it did.
Maybe it's because Echo was the only person to treat her like a friend at first. More than a friend.
Like a sister.
Frantically, Cordelia searched her mind for information, for her magic that she'd grown to at least recognize. It was that same thick-coated feeling, like the magic of her soul had been blurred over as well, so that soft, pliant feeling sung in thunderstorms down her body.
