𝗪𝗵𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗧𝗶𝗴𝗲𝗿 [ʀᴡʙʏ x ᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴏᴄ]

Chapter 35

Weiss's POV

Months have passed, and yet Klaus is still gone. I haven't heard a word about him, and every day that goes by feels like I'm losing him all over again. The silence is deafening, and the uncertainty about where he is, what he's doing, if he's even okay-it's overwhelming.

The thought that I might never see him again... I can't quite process it. The world keeps moving forward, but I feel stuck, waiting for something, anything, that will tell me he's out there.

I miss him more than I want to admit. His presence, his voice, the way he made everything seem... lighter, even when things were tough. The way we could talk, or sometimes just be silent together, it meant everything to me.

I never realized how much I had come to depend on him, not just for comfort, but for strength. There's a void where he used to be. I catch myself looking at the door, hoping he'll walk through it, or hearing his voice in the back of my mind, and each time I remember he's not here, it stings. I'm left with nothing but memories, and those seem to fade a little more every day.

But I won't give up. No matter how much time passes, or how much pain it brings, I still have hope. I have to believe that Klaus is out there somewhere, that I'll find him again. I won't stop searching for him, even if I have to do it alone.

Because I know deep down that if he were here, he wouldn't want me to give up. So I won't. I'll keep moving forward, trusting that someday, we'll be reunited. Until then, I'll hold on to that hope, no matter how far away it feels.

Protruding columns from the walls are decorated with black sconces and lit candles. Nature paintings are hung in an alternating pattern between the columns. There is also the occasional cushioned chair or round coffee table placed along the walls.

I'm becoming to hate this place, even though these were the same walls and hallways I've been raised in. I slowly made my way to father's office.

Whitley: "Good afternoon, sister."

Whitley. Of course it was him. I should have expected it, but still, I wasn't prepared for whatever he was going to say. I turned to face him, my irritation bubbling up before I could even stop it.

Weiss: "Hello, Whitley. You're in a cheery mood today."

Whitley: "Klein made crepes for breakfast."

He clasps his hands behind his back and smirks at her.

Weiss: "What do you want?"

Whitley: "I heard Father shouting with someone in his study earlier."

Weiss: "Mother?"

Whitley: "No, she's already drinking in the garden. I think it was a man."

Whitley: (feigning a concerned look) I just wanted to warn you. I heard he had asked to speak with you.

Weiss: "I'll be fine."

Whitley: "I know you will. You are strong, like Winter"

Weiss: "You never liked Winter."

Whitley's gaze flickered briefly, but he quickly regained his composure. His words were too casual, too calculated. I could almost hear the hidden meaning beneath them, the subtle push for me to question things I hadn't thought about before.

Whitley: "I never said I didn't like her. I just... don't think she always made the right choices. She's stubborn, like you."

"Anyway," he said, his voice as cold as ever. "Father's expecting you."

With that, he turned and walked off, leaving me standing there in the hall. His words lingered in the air, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was standing on the edge of something I didn't quite understand.