Moonlit

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Triggering content ahead.

Ever since Avani was little, people told her she had a temper. That there was a fire of restlessness and curiosity in her soul that one day would burn her.

Avani had never been one to sit quietly. Her opinions and thoughts were always out for people to hear. It was not a good quality, and she knew it.

Some comforted her by saying that she was being true to herself. But what use was being real if your body was turning into ashes and smoke, blood dribbling like molten wax, deserting behind a putrid scent that reeked not of originality, but of naivety?

Tom was her obverse. Everything that dripped down his serpent tongue was measured, marred with treacle and wrapped in gossamers of charm. But for how long would the structure hold? The strings would break, and the treacle would flow away, revealing to the world his odious bifurcated self. Would he start stinging them with his venom, then? How long would that last before they broke his fangs?

No matter how powerful deceit might seem, no matter how appreciative the actor's performance might be, he would break if the curtains of the theatre weren't drawn soon. And when he would, he would scratch at the carmine fabrics to fall. When his perfect porcelain mask would drop, shattering to pieces and revealing his ugly face, he would screech and cry out loud for mercy, begging to be hidden from the scorching eyes that watched him. Begging to be extenuated.

It would be a terrific play.

.

Avani looked in the mirror, brushing her hair as her hazed eyes lingered on her reflection. She was restless, and she was curious. Tom was so obstinate over Mathias' detention. Could it be just her sceptical mind, or was something really not right?

If she was to go up to Tom's office right now, would it be her being too meddlesome? She dragged the hairbrush through her dark hair, wincing when a knot tugged at her scalp.

Avani sighed, placing the brush on her vanity and falling on her bed. But then she sat up again. Since when had she started letting overthinking stop her from doing what she wanted?

"I'm going out, Circe," Avani said as she put on her quiet slippers.

"Where are you going?"

"Don't worry, love. I'll be back before you know it."

Circe smiled. "Don't get caught by a prefect. You're already on the verge of getting expelled. And I'd never forgive myself if that happened."

Avani rolled her eyes at her friend's dramaticism. "I'll be alright, don't fret."

Avani stepped out of her room, walking to Tom's office.

Surprisingly, he wasn't there.

Avani sighed with disappointment, leisurely stepping down the staircase, the faint blue light on her wand being the only thing guiding her through the sheer darkness. The caretaker killed all the lanterns after curfew.

When she reached the second floor, she heard a faucet running.

Her curiosity peaked, and she found herself following the sound. She reached a bathroom, one that had been out of order for a few years. Water was all over the floor, and it touched her feet through her flat slippers, and she wished she had worn her heels instead.

With a scrunched nose, she stepped onto the wet floor, entering the bathroom.

A sink had been lowered, and her eyes widened when she saw a dark entrance. It went down to the floor, and from where she stood, she could not see anything in that dark pit.