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memories feel like weapons
*✧･ﾟ:
Celeste had not slept. She suspected that she had barely blinked either.
She sat up in her bed, the strangely warm sunlight streaming through her open windows. There was an unfamiliar, faint ache in her muscles, as if they held secrets she didn't remember.
Shaking off the unease, she padded across the room to the vanity mirror. Her reflection stared back, a mix of familiarity and uncertainty. Across her right cheek, a sharp red scar.
The faint memory of being at the Deatheater Ball lingered in her brain. It was an Order mission. But... what on earth had she accomplished? What had happened?
A horrible, wretched feeling sank in her stomach as she shakily began to brush her hair, arranging it in her usual impeccable fashion. Strolling to her closet, she pushed the doors open and shrieked at the sight.
It looked like a dead animal at first, but it was really a dress. Her magnificent dress from last night lay destroyed in a heap on the ground, bloodied and torn a thousand times over.
A part of her wanted to be terrified, but she wasn't sure why. If something terrible had occurred, she needed to make sure that any evidence tethered to her was erased.
Before the whispered words had barely escaped past her lips, the pile of bloody silk and gold surrendered to a roar of fiery flames. Each thread drifted up into a whisper of smoke, spiraling away from the fervent glow. Delicate ashes floated through the room, carrying away the elegance and destruction of a stolen night.
-
The world outside seemed both familiar and distant, as if Celeste stood on the threshold of a past she couldn't quite reach. Her eyes held a glimmer of apprehension as she scanned down the room where the Order was meeting at. As her gaze trailed slowly over Olivia, the blonde girl smiled at Celeste. It was strangely and uncomfortably smug, but taken aback by her behavior, Celeste nodded back in greeting.
Within that moment, nobody seemed to react to her presence in an alarming manner. Glances lingered over her and left, now that the Order had grown accustomed to her. Celeste surmised that nobody was panicked by last night events, or that the news had not reached them yet.
Finally releasing her breath, she barely had time to turn before the most familiar voice sounded from behind her.
