"A Flame that Fades"

Chapter 17: Holding Each Other Together

Freya's POV

I sat on the windowsill, my shoulder pressed against the cold glass, wrapped in the thick, scratchy blanket I had found earlier. The fabric was worn, but it offered some comfort against the chill in the room. Outside, the leaves began to fall, swirling lazily in the wind. I knew winter was near. The sky was heavy with clouds, and the cold breeze slipped through the poorly sealed window seams, sending a shiver through my bones.

I turned my gaze towards Esme, who was busy brushing the comb through her long, curly auburn hair. It fell softly down her back with each stroke, framing her face beautifully. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as I stared at my own straight hair, which was only wavy at the ends.

"Hey, um..." Esme broke the silence, her voice barely a whisper. "Can you help me clip my bra?" She held up the lace bra, her cheeks flushing as she spoke. I smiled, jumping down from the windowsill and walking toward her. "Thanks," she murmured as I clipped her bra. "You know, the red lace goes nicely with your hair," I mumbled, trying not to sound too weird.

She turned to face me, her gaze drifting to the loose strap of my bra under the blanket. "Let me help you too," she smiled, moving behind me to fasten the strap. "Thank you," I whispered softly.

Esme wrapped her arms around my shoulders in a warm, comforting gesture, resting her face against the crook of my neck. I flinched a little, surprised by the sudden closeness, but the softness of her breath felt oddly comforting.

It felt weird, thinking that I'd end up finding a friend here, of all places. But Esme was more than just a friend. She was like the best friend and older sister I never had. In this place, where everything seemed so wrong, she was the one constant that made me feel like I wasn't completely lost.

The creaking of the door caused both of us to jump. "Hey, since the holidays are near, I thought it would be fun if we did clay masks and drank some mulled wine. Is that okay?" Resa's voice was soft, and she stood in the doorway holding a bottle and a small jar of what I assumed was clay.

"Please tell me you didn't get that clay from the backyard's waterhole." Esme cringed at the sight of the clay.

Resa chuckled, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "How did you know?"

Esme rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Because you're the only person I know who would dig up clay from a muddy hole in the backyard. Seriously, Resa?"

Resa shrugged innocently, still grinning. "It's organic," she said with mock sincerity. "Thought it'd add some...character."

I laughed softly, feeling the warmth of their banter. It was moments like these, when we were all together, that made everything feel normal again.

"I ain't putting that shit onto my face," Esme gagged, her nose scrunching in disgust. "It looks like it's thoroughly seasoned with bacteria and animal shit." She shot a pointed glance at the muddy, off-color clay in Resa's hands, as if it might sprout legs and chase after her.

Resa let out a laugh, unbothered. "You're such a drama queen. It's just a little dirt."

I couldn't help but chuckle at the banter. "I think Esme might be onto something," I teased, eyeing the clay warily. "It does look suspiciously...unclean."

Resa raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. "Fine then, at least I'll look young with smooth skin, and you two can look like sprouted potatoes," she sassed, holding the jar up like a trophy.

"Or...you'll be the sprouted potato after that clay mask," Esme shot back, clearly annoyed by Resa's lack of intelligence.

I snorted a laugh at Esme's sassiness. "She's right, Resa. What if we just get drunk off the mulled wine while we gossip and talk about boys?" I offered, a teasing grin on my face.