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On the 26th of April, Murielle woke up in the morning to light

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On the 26th of April, Murielle woke up in the morning to light. For the first time in over two weeks, she could see light. Granted, she couldn't make out anything and her vision was as if someone had taken a perfectly good oil painting with fresh paint and smudged their hands all over the artwork. 

She had known, with the improvement of her hearing, that soon all of her senses would be back. Elijah had achieved his goal of getting her party-ready and now it was the day of the so-called party—which he would tell her no specifics about—and she was able to do almost everything without feeling the need to plug her ears. 

But with the slow return of her sight, she knew she'd have to finally have the conversation with Finn and Elijah about everything. About why she was alive, what happened to her, how it could've happened, everything.

She had been putting off the conversation, pain rendering her unable to talk about it all. It wasn't a subject she enjoyed reminiscing over and if she could, she avoided it at all costs. Which was why both Finn and Elijah had been unprepared for her death, a fact she'd apologised for over and over. Even though they said it was fine and assured her they understood, she still endlessly apologised because it was all she could do to make up for the sorrow they had felt. 

About the lack of answers, they had been completely understanding. After the first time, they didn't question her; they only helped her out without complaint. She appreciated the space they gave her but they deserved more; they deserved answers. 

And so that morning, she walked down the stairs to the kitchen, where Elijah was making toast and Finn was sipping some drink, Earl Grey tea if she knew him well enough. Her pupils looked around the blurred lights of the room; her eyes had gotten smaller and her pupils had contracted to the point where she simply looked as though she was high and not demonic anymore. Murielle could just about make out where each vampire was standing or sitting, though it was a struggle to depict them. Elijah was easier as he wore a dark outfit—a suit, she supposed—but Finn was wearing a lighter outfit that made him a little more difficult to distinguish. 

When Finn looked up from his Earl Grey to see Murielle's eyes directly focused on him, he could've leapt for joy; in fact, he did. He jumped out of his seat in excitement. Her eyes were on him, not the rough area of where he was. She knew exactly where he had sat; she could see him. 

The abrupt scraping of his chair caught Elijah's attention away from the toaster. He looked over to his brother to see him up and staring at something across the room. Following his line of sight, Elijah could see Murielle making eye contact with Finn. Actual eye contact. So he drew the same conclusion as his brother, his dear, could see.

"Murielle, you- you can see?" Finn breathed out, not quite believing it. It had been a miracle in and of itself when he could have the first sonorous conversation with her a week ago; was it too much to beg the goddess for one more in the form of her sight? In the form of him being able to once again gaze into her dark brown eyes, knowing she was looking at him in the same manner. 

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