Tidal | Neuvillette

V

- the winter in fontaine -

The winter in Fontaine was almost reminiscent of Snezhnaya. The way a flurry of snowflakes iced the pathway and left a sense of glittery uncanny-ness.

Snezhnaya. A place hailing delusions and a lack of belief in tears. Repression was the only way of life. Family first, but fatality a follower. Love was never heard of: Only blood.

When your hometown starts to remind you of the placed that reigned misfortune upon your family, does it all come flooding back and leave you with despairing memories?

Snap out of your thoughts. 

"Good morning, Monsieur" spoke y/n, to the man who ran the jewellery shop.

"Y/n, a pleasure to see you. What brings you here?" He was familiar with her, as once he worked alongside her father. "I hardly see you around anymore, how have you been?"

"I'm good, thank you. And apologies... I've been trying hard to work, you know? Make a bit of living." She laughed it off, as if she wasn't struggling. "I've started working at a local cafe, I'm actually on my way to work now. Just thought I'd take this route instead."

I wonder...

"You've grown a lot, haven't you?" He laughed again. He'd known y/n for a long long time, perhaps even since she was a child. "You're really starting to look like your mother."

"Yeah.."

Is that a compliment?

"Thank you.. I'm glad you're doing well." Her stomach churned a little at the comment. A singular string of words could make it seem as if looking in a mirror would cause it to shatter due to faded memories.

"I'll see you later on."

"Goodbye, y/n, take good care of yourself."

"Your parents would be so proud of you."

The words stabbed her in the back. Sharp, but not enough to damage. It's a compliment, it's a compliment. But was it the cold or was it the simpleness of that sentence that braced her tear ducts for war?

"Thank you." She barely managed to mutter before some kind of flight response kicked in, and she left the scene in an array is dismal pride.

She continued walking down the pathway as droplets of icy frigidity settled on her eyelashes. Tiny mounts of snowy bliss formed under her shoes, and the bleak air nipped at her skin, leaving a dust of pink on the tip of her nose and cheeks.

She had work now. She didn't have time to release the rain from her eyes.

Snezhnaya does not believe in tears.

    - • - • - • - • - • - • -

Like my mother? My mother was truly beautiful. Was she?

Am I starting to forget my own mother's face? This can't.. no, no it's not I'm just being stupid.

She was pretty. But I don't want to think about her face right now.

Mostly because I can't picture it. I can't picture her.

I've forgotten my own mother's face.

Brief chapter update. I'm tired :p

I just had a week of exams and now I can't function.

Enjoy I'll update again soon enough
:D

This is a bit of a filler chapter since it's 11pm weeeee