𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍||𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐨𝐜

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

꧁❀꧂

🎨💐☀️

SOL SHIFTIED uncomfortably, her head pounded as she peeled open her eyes.

"shh, shh, shh" Evie soothed, which made Sol shoot her head up and tackle her into a hug, glad she was there.

"Sol, we're so sorry-"  Evie said, trying to reason with the girl who was now pulling away, smiling up at her.

"Unless you kidnapped me, you have nothing to be sorry for." She gently smiled at the four of them, head now resting on Carlos's shoulder.

"Glad you came back, M." She spoke, looking up at the purple-haired girl, who was sorrowfully staring at her, nodding slightly, Sol unaware of the dumb comment her best friend had made.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence, Sol's hair continued to glow as she made attempts to heal herself, laying her head in Evie's lap for the rest of the journey.

The girl had completely forgotten about cotillion, that was until Jane had come up to them, asking for opinions on the glass painting, where Ben suggested to Mal that they could cancel.

Wide-eyed-eyed, she turned around to face a part of the group who weren't occupied.

"I, uh. I'm not feeling too hot, I'm going to skip this year. Sorry." Sol muttered, almost jogging away as she felt hot tears prick at her eyes, not looking back at a very concerned Carlos and Evie.

Going to a stupid annual ball while her brother (who is believed to be dead) sits on the Isle of the Lost, a prison, while she gets dressed up in lavish jewellery and shoes, dances the night away, not a care in the world. And gets to eat food each child, teenager, and adult could only dream of.

It was unfair, and she simply just wanted to bring them all over. Which she knew Ben was trying to do, but not hard enough as they obviously weren't here right now. Something she so desperately wished for.

After Sol had cried properly for the first time since seeing Flaxen, she was now sitting on the edge of her bed, staring numbly at the baby blue, halter-neck maxi dress she should be slipping into right about now, the moonlight reflecting off its silk fabric. A feature that made Sol force Evie to make it in the first place. (Not that it took any convincing)

Before she could feel any worse, harsh knocks were placed at her large, wooden oak door. That wasn't rotting away, unlike the ones on the filthy pirate ship.

Her sock-covered feet met her rug as she slipped off her bed, opening the door where Ben, her best friend, stood. His hair was nice and neat, and his suit did not have a crease in sight as it had been freshly steamed.