Raulson and Character One-shots

Foxxay

Prompt: Misty attempts to comfort Cordelia in the midst of her divorce from Hank

POV: Misty

   I looked up at the ceiling above me, white on white. It had never occurred to me how much the inside of our bedrooms looked like a stereotypical cell for those who were deemed insane. If you took away the beds, doors, and windows, and put in rubber padding, this scene could be used for some cartoon character to be put in. 

   Was this done on purpose? Surely not. But then again, everything in the coven was white. What kind of irony was that? That witches were put into a home whose only color was purity and innocence. Witches, who are being threatened and killed, put into a place with lack of our origins. Lack of our history. 

   "God, you need to get out more." Zoe said, coming into my room. 

   I jumped at the sound. "A gal can't ponder?" 

   "You're pondering too deep. It's a color, Mist."

    "You know better than that. It all has to represent something." 

   "Who put you in a basic English class?" 

   I huffed as I sat up, meeting Zoe's brown eyes. "You're right, it's not all basic. The greenhouse is nice." 

   "It is. It's even nicer when it's you and Cordelia down there, huh?" 

   "Shut up Zoe. You're so insensitive." 

   But Zoe was right. The greenhouse is more enjoyable with Cordelia. Everything seems to be in bloom. The colors are more vibrant. The air is sweet. Time seems to stand still and speed up. It felt like a fortress, where nothing bad could happen to us. 

   Where I wouldn't let anything bad happen to us. 

   But I was also right, Zoe was being insensitive. About a month ago, Cordelia told us she was going to divorce Hank, for obvious reasons. There were calls for harsher action to be taken on him, but Cordelia called each plan off. For as horrible, manipulative, and downright sleezy he is, Cordelia still loved him. And she would never let one of her loved ones be hurt, even if it meant hurting herself. 

  But again, Zoe was right. Though, I didn't want her to be right. The idea that Cordelia liked me more than a friend was out of my realm. I pushed it out of my realm. I would not allow myself to get my hopes up for something that I knew would end in devastation. Devastation for both of us. 

   Of course, there were nights when people, myself included, questioned the limits of our platonic friendship. Cuddling in bed, light kisses on the cheek or forehead, holding hands, giving each other gifts, the constant desire to be with the other. But I didn't mind. I told myself that several female friendships are this close, I've seen it and been part of it myself. 

   But there seemed to be something just below the surface each time. 

   "Maybe I am." Zoe answered, pulling me out of my thoughts. She pulled a cigarette out of her pocket and lit it with her hand. 

   "Ugh don't bring that shit in here." I said, covering my nose.

    "Right, sorry. Environment freak." She mumbled, walking out. 

    I looked down at my phone and checked the time. 5:30. Cordelia is usually done with her work by now, but I hadn't heard her. Maybe she sneaked away while I was talking to Zoe. I decided to head to her office and check. 

   I got to the large white door. Another prison cell, special for Cordelia. I shook my head before lightly tapping the door. I heard muffled sounds and movement. I took a step back as I heard heels approach then open the door.