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44- a sharp sting of words

the rain rushes down onto the group of black umbrellas, the sounds of water hitting wet mud filled the silence. everyone stands before the coffin, in honour of the mayor. he had survived the hit, but had passed recovering in hospital. his wife and son sobbed, it was unexpected. too sudden. the student of nevermore stood around too, by ms weems word. to honour the mayor who protects them from the towns folk themselves. peter shares a umbrella with xavier. their hands resting at their sides, yet seemingly grazing the other. the smallest of their fingers, the pinkies touching lightly. the only towns member who hadn't attended the funeral was theodore nott and that was because he had not returned from his travels to the united kingdom. peter could feel the concern sinking into his bones for the older man. he hoped he was okay, that his friends had retunited. he knew it was selfish, but he wanted theo to come back. he didn't want the man to go visit the uk and decide to stay at his home. the women in charge of the funeral service speaks the prayers but the rains almost too loud to hear. peter watches as ajax wraps his arm around enid, and he fights the smile. he is happy for them, but he has to remain silent. it feels inhuman to smile at the service of a dead man. he looks over to wednesday who is already staring intently at him. the pictures of the music box still painted her mind. the estray of pictures of both him and herself irked her. who was watching them? why was someone watching them? and why on earth was one of the pictures taken in the school? peter sleeping softly on the brown leather sofa in the library. a pile of books about biology before him. and a diary, she had seen him carry it around. had it on him at all time, yet she had never seen the inscriptions inside. and that's why when he returned to his room after his meeting with ms weems, he found wednesday sat on his bed. the window ajar. blowing the old breeze into the room.

"what is it now?" he questions softly, rubbing a hand over his face a he drops his bag to the floor. he had heard what had happened between wednesday and enid. the wolf had moved out, leaving the girl to her solitude which she called to adore. but wednesday found herself disliking it, not like she would tell anyone.

"get dressed." is all she said and he groaned as kicking his bag towards the desk as he follows her orders. she goes to the bathroom. he changes out of his slightly damp uniform into his brown cargo pants, because he noticed they seemed to be doing a lot of running away from things lately. which he paired with a baggy graphic shirt and boots. he looked almost like he belonged in the maze runner movies. he doesn't bother with his bag nor his diary. instead hiding the diary under the floorboard under his bed. and knocking to inform wednesday he could come back in. without another word she left. and as always, peter belfiore followed quickly after.

"where are we even going?" he whispers through the empty halls, the night settling into the castle. she hushes them, not wanting to get caught. they didn't know many more strikes they had left before ms weems officially snapped. wednesday softly clicks her fingers before the statue of edgar allan poe and they find themselves following the familiar staircase down into the nightshade library.

"are you ever going to tell me anything?" he hisses once he knows he's able to speak. she spins on her heel facing him, an emotion unknown in her eye.

"someone's watching us. they've been taking pictures. i found them in the music box from lauren gates room. who ever is in that house, in that room. is watching us. and i don't know why. also i found out what the beast is-" she speaks, rushing over her words not allowing him to get anything in.

"hyde. it's a hyde." he spits out, and her face wrinkles.

"how did-" peter knew something she didn't. about the monster, about the beast. it was a hyde. like from the jekyll and hyde. a juggernaut of unmanish remarks.

"so why are we here?" this she ignores, continuing down the stairs and he groans one more, following her into the dusty library.

"uncle fester?" she calls, peter grows concerned. who the fuck was uncle fester? and why was he here?> why was he in nevermore?and in the nightshade library especially?

"who's uncle fester?" a figure appears from the shadows. and peter mumbles a soft fuck. xavier standing in the shadows. casting darkness onto his face.

"what are you doing here?"

"i could ask you two the same thing but since im an actual nightshade, i don't have to explain myself. why are you two creeping around in the middle of the night? again."

"research."

"on the monster? i'll save you some time. there's nothing in here matching that thing."

"isn't that convenient. peter, lets go."

"you know what your problem is?"

"i would love to hear your piercing insight."

"you don't know who your real friends are. i've been on your side since day one. i literally saved your life. i believed your theories when nearly nobody else did. and what do i get in return? just nothing but suspicion and lies. and don't even get me started on how you treat poor peter here for fuck sake wednesday. he does everything for you, and what do you do. treat him like nothing but a puppy."

"i do not." she sneers. xavier had finally said something that had gotten under her skin. and it wasn't something about her, or him. but on peter. who stands idly at the stairs. watching them silently not saying a word. he was getting rather bored of the two, he wished they would just make out and leave it at that.

"fine. you want honesty? here it is. every time the monsters attacked. you've been right there. starting with rowan at the harvest festival. then on outreach day, you arrived at the meeting house just minutes after the monster disappeared. yet you say you didn't see it." wednesday draws on, xavier moving closer as peter finds himself wishing he had stayed in his room and just told her no. he thinks about what xavier said. it had never occurred to him how wednesday treat him, because he saw wednesday as a friend. but maybe she didn't actually see him as one.

"i didn't realise proximity was a crime."

"then there's your drawing obsession. when you're not drawing peter, you drew the monster. sometimes interlinked the two as well. you've drawn the monster dozen of times. yet you've never seen it. or so you claim. you never drew where it lived. then when eugene went to investigate. you tried to kill him so he wouldn't spill your secret." she continues as the boy stops at the stairs where peter stands. he looks cute, stood dumbly. nothing to do, nothing to say. wednesday eyes occasionally flicker to him. trying to ignore the scratching thought in her mind. peter was always there too. but she had seen the monster hurt peter. she had ruled him out. but his words itched at her mind. the monster was a hyde. so it needed a jekyll? she watched the two boys as she spoke. they were the perfect mirrored imagine of their parents on the wall behind them. seemingly looming over their shoulders.

"yout hink i would hurt eugene?" xavier spits, horror spread across his face.

"let's not forget your oh so convenient appearance after tyler had been attacked at the gates mansion." she added her final cut. peter would hate to admit it, but it was starting to make sense as wednesday laid it out before them. xavier was always there, in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"if i am the monster, why haven't i killed you?" xavier sneers, stepping back up to wednesday, looking down at her with green glinted eyes

"because for some reason i cannot fathom or indulge, you seem to like me." it stings peter a bit, but he knows its true. xavier liked wednesday and not just in a friendly manor. he always seemed to be flicking between peter and wednesday, like he couldn't make up his mind. he knew both were wrong for him. he could never accept himself as loving peter, his father would disown him. beat him bloody and call him a disacre to their name. and what would his father think of wednesday. knowing his sick father, he would actually like her a bit.

"what's to like?" he spits, the venom in his tone watching the shade in his eyes as he moves swiftly to the stairs. ascending quickly. eyes flicking to peter who looked lost in thought at the bottom. he stops. sharply. looking down at the boy in a lost boy’s graphic shirt. and back to wednesday. the colour of his eyes turning from sour to something soft.

"if i were the monster, why would i hurt peter?"

arescere ✿ xavier thorpeWhere stories live. Discover now