Love's Dark Legacy

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Azeilia has been at home. She hasn't hung out with friends, she felt quite lonely but she knew safer at home. She had been so sensitive to light, sounds, smells, she couldn't afford to go out to any of the parties her friends were inviting her to.

She was in her room doing the usual, listening to music and smoking.

When her phone rang. And it was James. He seemed to be the only one who called her these days, she knew when he called it was going to be something about herculeana or his emotionally distant father. So she braced herself and answered the phone.

"James,"she said briefly

"Zelia" he said
They stayed quiet for a while. She was use to it, sometimes he'd just call her to just have her company. She thought maybe she would go to his house and they could like maybe chill i don't know. Plus she was lonely.

"Is your dad home?" She asked him

"Yeah he is why?" He said sounding foggy like like he's far from the phone

"Whatever I'm coming over"

Footsteps were heard in the background of the phone "what??Azeilia making the initiative to come over? Who the fuck is on my phone?"

"Fine I'll stay home" she rolled her eyes

"Should I send a car?"

" I guess"

Azeilia inhaled deeply as she reached the mansion, the air around the estate always feeling more oppressive than at her own home. Since childhood, they'd shared a bond that went beyond normal friendship, one built on trust, secrets, and the mutual understanding of having complicated fathers. Azeilia felt like she knew him better than anyone, and it was something that always pulled her closer, even when she wanted to pull away.

She walked up to the front door, not surprised that it opened for her automatically. James had given her unlimited access a long time ago. When she stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. The weight of old memories and shadows from James' past seemed to press in on her, as if the walls were listening, watching.

James appeared at the top of the staircase, his usually composed face slightly tense. "Hey," he greeted, his voice softer than usual. Azeilia could tell he hadn't been sleeping much. The dark circles under his eyes betrayed him.

"Hey," she replied, her gaze narrowing.

James sighed as he descended the stairs. "Let's talk in the living room."

They sat on the couch, and Azeilia made herself comfortable, leaning back as she looked at him expectantly. "So...what's been on your mind?"

James ran a hand through his dark hair, avoiding her gaze for a moment. "It's Rose," he said after a long pause.

Azeilia's eyebrows shot up. She crossed her arms. "Oh? What about her?"

"She's... I don't know, man, hear me out hear me out, she reminds me of Herculeana." His words came out in a rush, as if he'd been holding them back for too long.

Azeilia clenched her jaw. She felt torn. She knew James loved Herculeana. There was no doubt about it. But the idea of him using Rose to fill that void made her stomach turn. "James," she said carefully,

James rubbed his face in frustration. "I know. I know it's messed up. But I'm not in love with her, Z. She's just...a distraction."

Azeilia closed her eyes for a second, trying to choose her words wisely. "You're hurting her, James. You're better than this."

He looked away. "I don't even know if I am."

"You are," she said firmly. "You've been through a lot, but that doesn't give you the right to hurt people."

James looked down at his hands. "You always know what to say to make me feel worse."

"Because you need to hear it," Azeilia shot back. "And you know I care about you, James. We've been through everything together. But you have to stop letting your feelings for Herculeana push you into doing things you'll regret."

James finally met her eyes, and there was something vulnerable in his expression. "Maybe you're right."

"I am," she said softly. "I always am."

James poured himself a drink and sank into the chair opposite her, his eyes clouded with the thoughts that weighed on him. Azeilia lit up a cigarette, blowing smoke lazily as she watched him.

"Your father..." she finally broke the silence, "still giving you hell?"

James sighed heavily. "What else is new? I'm trying to live with him again, you know... give it a shot. But the man barely even talks to me unless it's to get something out of me."

Azeilia leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "What's he trying to pull now?"

James hesitated, his fingers tapping the side of the glass. "He wants me to push the game... use my connections, my friends. He's always scheming, Azeilia. It's like I don't even exist to him as a person. Just some... tool."

Azeilia's eyes softened, and she reached out, placing her hand over his. "You're more than that, James. You're not just a pawn in his sick game."

He smiled bitterly, withdrawing his hand. "I wish I could believe that. But the truth is... I'm stuck in his world. And now with this whole mess with Rose..." he trailed off, his voice laced

After a long pause, he looked up at her, a small smirk forming on his lips. "What about you? How's life treating you?"

Azeilia shrugged, trying to keep her tone light. "You know me... same old, same old. But there is something I've been thinking about... Celia."

James' eyes lit up with interest. "Celia? As in... Celia, Celia?"

Azeilia chuckled softly, feeling a blush creep into her cheeks. "Yeah... her. I don't know, James. I like her. But I don't know what to do about it."

James sat up, his smirk turning into a genuine smile. "You should go for it. Seriously, Azeilia, if anyone can handle someone like Celia, it's you."

Azeilia raised an eyebrow. "You think so?"

"Definitely. You're tough, but you've got that soft side too. Celia's lucky to have someone like you interested in her."

Azeilia looked at him, surprised by his support. "Thanks, James. I didn't expect you to be so... encouraging."

James laughed lightly.

Azeilia smiled, feeling a weight lift from her chest. "Maybe you're right."

James' face grew serious again, though. "Just don't be like me. Don't screw it up because you're too afraid of your feelings."

Azeilia gave him a knowing look. "Please..."

Their conversation shifted back to lighter topics, Azeilia sharing stories about her grandmother and James laughing at her dry humor. But as the evening wore on, Azeilia couldn't shake the image of James' father lurking in the shadows, pulling the strings of their lives like some malevolent puppeteer.

As they got up to leave the room, Azeilia glanced around James' father's mansion. It was vast, cold, and filled with secrets. She noticed a book on a nearby shelf, something old and out of place among the sleek, modern decor. She picked it up, flipping through the pages absentmindedly, until one passage caught her eye.

"James..." she said, her voice dropping as she scanned the text. "This book talks about some woman who... killed 13 people a long time ago. Do you know anything about this?"

James turned to her, frowning as he walked over. "No... why would my father have something like that lying around?"