𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 | 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑

Ⅲ

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

"𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘱."

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╰┈˚ · ° .  WITH THE MOON STILL HIGH ABOVE, I woke up from the few hours of sleep that I had got. I needed to get up but my mind stilled for a second as I let myself lay between my sisters and for a moment, just one, I pretended. Pretended that I had fallen asleep between my sisters after spending the night talking about anything till we were too exhausted to move, falling asleep cuddling to each other searching for the warmth of our siblings' love. Something that never happened and probably never will.

Feyre and I and Nesta and Elain, the twins and the two sisters. Almost as if the two groups of siblings weren't related to each other.

It hurts to think of the reality of our family. Sometimes I just wanted a small fraction of the love that Nesta had for Elain, or the loyalty that the girl had for our eldest sister. But I had Feyre, and I loved her more than anything. Even if those words would never pass from my lips.

Reality came back with a soul crushing weight. Pretending and hoping. two sides of the same useless coin only meant to bring hurt.

Slowly, so quietly, I sneaked out of the bed trying my best to not wake any of my sleeping sisters in the huge iron bed, still not big enough for any of us four to sleep comfortably.

Taking a simple outfit out of my painted drawer, I walked through the kitchen still in my nightwear. Putting on my very rundown boots and the heavy cloak, I made my way out of the house. Out of the front door I then reached the back of the cottage. With my feet, I kicked out of the way the new layer of snow that had fallen during the gelid winter night. I crouched down, sliding two loose stones from the lower part of the wall. They fell easily, too easily contrasting to how my mind had weighted more with that simple move. It revealed a small hiding spot, quite big since I had dug into the frozen ground to form a hole.

With my hand now, almost going numb from the cold, I reached for the bag that was hidden there. A satchel made of fabric that contained two pairs of the same clothes. Taking one of them out, I replaced the empty space then with the one I still held in hand just taken out from my drawer.

I made quick work of changing from my nightwear replacing it with the leather armor that I hated with everything in me. And still, it was the most familiar thing these days. Black leather pants with a dark colored fabric coat tunic that was closed with buttons until the belly button with a simple black long sleeved shirt underneath. On the chest, covering my left breast was leather woven protection kept in place with buckles around my torso and left shoulder, and on my left forearm a black leather arm guard. Lastly, on my right hand, there was a glove that covered only three of my fingers, index, middle and ring.