Love Me, Harm Me

Time (always) passes

"Why had I thought of it that way? As a friendship both of us needed? That didn't make any sense at all."
― Malorie Blackman, Noughts and Crosses

.☀.🌑.☀.🌑.

Exactly two weeks had passed. True to her word, Elizabeth had gone to France. For an entire week, desperate to distract herself within the sheer excitement and joy of the events she was being paid to report on, Elizabeth had tried to lose herself in that week. Long beach walks, studying the layouts of the different towns in the area - even enduring a long-winded tale from a pleasant old lady had been used to pass time.

Alas, France was a drag. All of her life, Elizabeth had always hated her French lessons. Whenever her mother encouraged her to be more in touch with her French roots, to try and be more proactive in her French lessons, it had always led to a disagreement. French culture was never the problem; Elizabeth was just never interested with it in the first place. France never claimed a piece of her heart.

Being there had only made that truth all the more jarring. Being in France - solely because she didn't want to be in the UK, faced with countless reminders of Meliodas - only made the truth all the more harmful.

Stupid, it was stupid to use work to lose herself. Rule one-oh-one of being Elizabeth Liones was knowing that Meliodas could always permeate her brain whenever she was at work. Back in the office, across the small channel, Meliodas would always find a way to fill her thoughts; in France - one ferry ride away - it was no different. Why would it be any different?

That week in France was miserable. Even with all the fun and joy and excitement spread about her, Elizabeth was miserable. A complete sour puss. If she were there, Diane would smack her about the head for being so ill-tempered in the world-renowned centre of art, science and philosophy. Finally, she was a step closer to living out her dreams and there Elizabeth was pouting and throwing a strop about it.

How beautiful.

Once the week in France had expired, Elizabeth wasted no time in telling Ludociel that she was taking two weeks off to work from home. Bullshit had been spun to win her the two weeks, a small white lie about her sister not coping very well. None of it was questioned. Happy with her latest work, Ludociel seamlessly gave her two weeks and the prospect of going to Mexico if all went well.

So here Elizabeth was now, two hours from London - Oxford. Last time she had been here Margaret had lived in a flat, a bright smile on her face as she gushed to her younger sister about how great university was. Law had been the original plan for Margaret; halfway through she decided to switch, taking up the career path of a midwife.

Now Margaret no longer lived in her shared flat. Content and settled, she passed her days in her own little house, happily married and welcoming her first ever child just over a year ago.

Really, Elizabeth was terrible for never having paid a visit. Everything was done over phone calls or text messages, her mind too preoccupied to actually think about visiting Margaret. Everything to do with her father, anyone to do with her father, was always an afterthought with Elizabeth. She never wanted to be a burden for them. She never wanted to feel like an intruder. She was, after all, the unexpected half-sister.

"Elizabeth!" A tight hug was the last thing she expected. Over the past few years there was little change: long lavender hair, warm cinnamon eyes and the scent of calming jasmine always wafted about her older sister. "I'm so glad you decided to visit."

"Me too," Elizabeth found herself admitting, burying her face within her sister's shoulder. She had forgotten how nice it was to be around her, how all of her worries could just melt away. "I've been terrible for leaving it for so long."