Tidal | Neuvillette

XI

- I wish you love -

Y/n arrives home, the weight of the mysterious box now symbolic of the burdensome truths revealed. The echoes of the chief's words linger, haunting the edges of her thoughts. Inside the confines of her sanctuary, she grapples with conflicting emotions, her mind a tempest of nostalgia, betrayal, and unanswered questions. Yet again.

She carefully places the enigmatic box on a table, hesitant to unlock its secrets just yet. The room, once a haven, now feels like a reflection of the fractured connection left behind in the dimly lit streets. She stares out the window, the city's distant hum underscoring the profound silence within.

In solitude, she begins to unravel the tangled threads of her emotions, contemplating whether to confront the past or let the mysteries endure. The room becomes a canvas for introspection, where she navigates the currents of her conflicted heart, seeking solace in the sanctuary she calls home.

"I wish you'd trust me, Monsieur."

She gazed out the window into the dark that engulfed the world at the hour of luna.

-•-•-•--•-•-•--•-•-•--•-•-•-

Meanwhile, the chief of justice paces within the confines of a dimly lit office, the weight of the revelation etched across furrowed brows. Shadows dance on the walls, mirroring the internal turmoil that simmers beneath the composed exterior.

Doubt and introspection infiltrate the once-assured demeanor. The echo of her story resonates, and the chief wrestles with the realisation that the pursuit of justice has dredged up personal complexities. The photographs taken between childhood friends linger in the mind, evoking a sense of curiosity... and disappointment.

A desk drawer creaks open, revealing a weathered file, a remnant of the case next week, tested by time and circumstance. The chief of justice, too, confronts the tempest of emotions stirred by the past. Contemplation takes hold, and the city's ceaseless hum becomes a backdrop to a solitary journey through the labyrinth of personal and professional intersections.

In the quiet of the office, decisions await, and he finds himself faced with the choice to reconcile the intricacies of the heart with the demands of duty. The night unfolds.

"I want to trust you, y/n.."

"...the trial is next week... I wouldn't be able to concentrate if she isn't there."

He muttered to himself, knowing he only had himself to talk to.

He was lonely. He knew he was. He wanted to do something to make himself less lonely, but his comfort zone restrained him, and his lack of social understanding kept him contained.

"I want to understand you, y/n. I wish I could."

"Your pain is too far beyond my recognition.. but I don't think you're the puppet master in this story."

Maybe he was too harsh on her before. He didn't know the story; and he was quick to judge.

Ironic.

...

He finds himself curious of what she's doing now. But regardless, sleep settled over his body as he leaned back in his office arm chair.

"Sleep.. sleep well y/n.. wherever you are."

    

speaking of sleep I can't do that HA anyway it's midnight I have an exam tomorrow tbh so maybe I should go to bed.

This is low-key flopping but I'm too invested in my own imagination so.

Goodnight >:(