🌙 𝙎𝙀𝙇𝙀𝙉𝙀. . .
↳ 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Cerelia Wellse knew only one thing : survival. It was survival when she murdered her oppressor. And, again, it was survival when she betrayed her saviour.
...
ʻ Soft hearts, electric souls heart to heart and eyes to eyes is this taboo? ʼ
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[House of memories →Panic! At The Disco]
CERELIA WAS hating every second of the stupid game.
She'd managed to untie her hands and then free herself of the restraints in about an hour, but unlocking the door of the room was taking so much longer. She wished she could just jump out of the window and run away, but she would just end up breaking her other leg as well.
"Fuck!" she screamed in frustration, hitting the door with her fist, hissing in pain as the sting of vervain hit her.
All her efforts were fruitless.
She turned away from it, beginning to make her way to Lucien's cupboard, the one which led to his secret room.
She'd healed after drinking up the blood from the blood bags she found in the bar's ice cooler and was sure that it was nothing but a sweet treat for her before her doom.
She slid open the entryway to the secret room, entering inside, curiosity lingering in her gaze and closed it shut behind her.
She looked around at the multitude of objects clattering the room, her gaze sticking to the large trunk in the middle of it.
She neared it, inquisitively, grazing her hands over the intricate designs and clicked it open.
A satisfied grin fell onto her lips as the silver suitcase, which held that werewolf bite healing serum, came into view. She pulled it out and placed it onto the floor.
"Open up." she whispered, trying to click it open only to find it locked.
She groaned to herself in frustration, skidding the suitcase away from her and turned her attention back to the rest of the trunk's contents.
Loads of documents, files, scribbled sheets and surprisingly so, a few sketches.
She pulled the bundle out, beginning to flip through them.
"Who the hell is she?" she whispered to herself, staring at the colored sketch of a redhead woman in her hand. "So many sketches of her. Couldn't she be. . .?"
"Oh." her mouth formed into an 'O' as realization hit her.
This was Aurora. Lucien's love of life.
She sighed, assembling the pages back together and placing them back into the trunk when her gaze fell onto a familiar box.
A jewelry box. Her jewelry box.
She gasped, bringing it out as she yanked it open.
Her pearl jewels, the ruby ring, a vial of blood, an inch of her hair and a folded, old yellowish paper.
