ILLUSION || Jason Todd

FORTY-SIX

❝WON'T BE ANYBODY AFTER YOU❞

MEGHAN TRAINOR, AFTER YOU

With a peering eye, Princess Lorelei Hansworth of Centia woke up in her childhood bed for the first time in four years. As her brain quickly processed recent events and what led her to lay within the soft sheets of nostalgia, the young mage shot upright with a jolt. Her words circulated her mind, her own submission to her father in order to save Jason.

Jason.

The ice blonde Princess felt like crying as his voice screaming her name in retaliation blared within her head. If her eyes weren't swollen and aching from the burning tears previously fell then she very much would have broken down once again.

Instead, her shoulders slumped into her knees as she glanced around the room. Nothing had changed. The lack of dust and perfect cleanliness brought Lorelei to note that her newfound prison was kept in great condition during her departure. She couldn't bring herself to care.

Her room was every little girl's dream. A four poster bed with draping curtains for added privacy. Where her toy box once sat in her youth was replaced with a desk as the young mage took on more mature hobbies with her age. The colour scheme, though altered as she began to grow, remained the same beige and light browns with red accents seeping through.

The walls of her bedroom once gave her comfort, it was her safety blanket. The room now only gave her dread, it was no longer homely.

Throwing her duvet to the side and slipping out of the bed, Lorelei looked down to her dress in confusion. She was still in her emerald green dress, bringing the young mage to wonder how much time had passed; evidently not much, she was still expected to roam around the halls after she awoke.

It took her less steps than the violet eyed mage remembered taking to her desk, bringing her to knock carelessly into the furnishing as her eyes blurred against the swelling. She rubbed her eyes as she sat on the chair, a small sigh emitting from her lips.

Lorelei didn't want to be here - she was right where she started. Four years of running, of pain, and all her efforts were drained within a second. There were no regrets held, no, she couldn't bring herself to wish she chose differently. Jason was alive, that could push her through. She would survive this, for Jason.

With a glance to her journal that sat beside the generous stack of paper, the yung mage let out a smile at the familiar black leather. In Lorelei's path with no friends, the staff within the castle being her only companions - but did they truly count? They weren't her Alfred -, she had taken up journaling her thoughts and feelings.

It was a hobby she would participate with every night. The routine became flawless in her nightly rituals of pampers and relaxing. She couldn't bring herself to journal in Gotham. Her pen would forever move, stressing her out far more than releasing her pent up emotions.

Her hands brushed against the thick paper before dropping it onto the desk with a hiss. Her cheeks ached, a scratching falling down them as she touched her flesh, pulling back to see nothing. No blood. No breakage of the skin. The sensation trickled into her body, the young mage tilting her head with confusion.

Lorelei reached her hand over for her black gel pen - her favourite type of pen, especially to write with -, the grip becoming tight as her fist felt like it punched steel. Another hiss left her lips, memories of her training with Jason swirling her mind. Punching his abs could hurt, if she weren't careful.