BOOK #2
━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━
Lili Salvatore had become something...empty. Sought and found all in one. The world seemed to begin and end in one pointless place after the dreaded town of Mystic Falls had chewed her up and spit her back out broken and lost...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"What is you didn't run this time? What if you stayed, and let my love overtake you?"
━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━
"I'VE ALWAYS HATED THESE BLOODY DRESSES." I said, looking through the various arrays of white lace in front of me. My hand delicately ran down the pristine fabric before I pushed it to the side. There were at least ten dresses in front of me, all hanging decoratively on a metal rack.
"Don't lie." a voice said from behind me, and I turned leisurely to look at the man leaning against the door frame. "You just don't like them this year because you can't fit into them."
I pointed a finger at Marcel, "Bullshit. That's outrageous." How dare he? Was he calling me fat?
Marcel peaked a brow at me, as if silently calling my bluff. "If I remember correctly, you said the Casket Girl's festival was your favorite day of the year because you got to dress fancy and get drunk in the streets."
"Irrelevant."
"You also said that playing dress up was your favorite activity."
"Whatever." I turned back around. I'd never admit he was right. "You aren't supposed to be talking to me. I'm still angry with you."
"I know." Marcel replied, pushing off from where he'd been leaning against the door frame. "I came to apologize."
At this, I whirled to look at him again, surprise igniting in me. Apologize? Really?
"You were right about the witch thing. I care about you, and I care about Davina. I don't want to use either of you. Or put you in danger. I'm sorry for that. For everything."
My mouth might have dropped open in shock as I stared at my friend. Marcel rarely apologized. It was all final decisions this, final decisions that, rarely did he admit his wrongs. Only once or twice in the last few decades has he apologized for something so serious as what we'd gotten into a fight about.
I shook my shock off, looking at my friend skeptically.
Placing a hand on my hip, I shifted my weight to one side, "What's the catch?"
Marcel rolled his eyes at me, "No catch. I just miss you."
I pursed my lips, still slightly suspicious, yet the prospect of having my closest friend back was tipping the scales by the second. I took a breath, closing my eyes before my shoulders dropped in something like giving up. When I opened my eyes, my gaze met that of brown. "I'm not saying I forgive you fully. Or condone anything you've done in the past decade. But I miss you too. I want my friend back."
