𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲-𝐓𝐰𝐨

And she don't wanna be anybody else



•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

𝕎𝔼𝔻ℕ𝔼𝕊𝔻𝔸𝕐 found himself thrust into the past, the air around him thick with the scent of smoke and damp earth. He stood outside the old meeting house, but it wasn't the crumbling ruins of his present day—it was intact, worn but sturdy, and alive with the distant murmurs of people. The year was 1625.

Quickly, he ducked behind a large wooden barrel, his eyes scanning the scene before him. His pulse quickened when he saw two figures moving furtively just outside the meeting house. A boy and a girl. They were younger, perhaps a few years shy of his own age. The boy's face made Wednesday's breath catch—he looked exactly like him, down to the same intense eyes and sharp jawline. And the girl... she looked like Lilith.

The resemblance was uncanny, too perfect to be coincidence. His heart thudded in his chest, curiosity taking over as he watched them from his hiding place.

"Amethys, come quickly," the boy urged in a hushed whisper, glancing nervously over his shoulder. His voice was filled with urgency, a desperation that rang through the quiet night. He grabbed Abigail's hand, pulling her towards the dense woods that loomed nearby.

But Amethyst—Lilith's mirror—pulled back, her dark eyes wide with fear. "Gabriel, I can't," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "You know what they'll do if they catch you with me. They will kill you."

Her words hung in the air like a noose, tightening around the boy. Gabriel's face twisted with anguish, his grip on her hand tightening as if refusing to let her go. "I don't care," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "I would rather die with you than live another day without you."

Amethyst's lips trembled as tears welled in her eyes. "You don't understand. They will burn you as a witch, Gabriel. The town has already made up its mind about you. I won't be the reason you're hunted."

Gabriel cupped her face with trembling hands, his forehead leaning against hers as he whispered, "You are my reason, Amethyst. My only reason." His voice softened, the urgency replaced with a kind of fierce tenderness. "We can escape. Run far away from here, somewhere they can't find us. We'll be free."

Amethyst's breath hitched, her resolve faltering. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath with her. Her eyes, so similar to Lilith's, searched his face for something—hope, a promise. Gabriel's thumb gently brushed a tear from her cheek, his touch lingering as if to etch her into his memory forever.

They stood like that, the world around them dimming, as if they were the only two people left in it. Gabriel leaned in, his lips hovering over hers for a moment of hesitation, as if fearing the touch would shatter the fragile reality they shared. Then he kissed her, soft and urgent, a kiss filled with all the words he couldn't say. All the fears, the love, the desperation.

Amethyst melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer as though the rest of the world didn't matter, as though this moment was the only one that ever existed. It was a kiss of defiance, of love against all odds, and of the fleeting hope that they could truly escape.

When they finally pulled apart, their breaths were heavy, their foreheads still touching. "We'll run tonight," Gabriel whispered, his voice barely audible but resolute. "I won't let them take you from me."