[neun]
"Is spilling scalding hot coffee on each other your thing now?" Elise teased when she saw her friend come back with yet another coffee stained shirt. Primrose had a faint smile on her face, and Elise honestly didn't know why it looked so bizarre to her. It just did.
"Maybe, maybe not," she responded. She fidgeted slightly, as if wondering how to continue. "Elise... what would you do if one day I was rushed to the hospital and never came back?"
Elise knew where this was going, it was due to the recently increased check ups and visits in general that took place at the hospital. Visits that, as far Elise knew, Bastian was unaware of.
"I couldn't say."
"I suspected as much..."
"So will you tell Bastian?"
"I don't know, Elise."
"He has to-"
"Elise, I have it under control. Stop giving me that look."
"What look?"
"The look you saved for every sick child you saw when you worked at the foundation. I don't want that, Elise."
"Primrose-"
"Tell my mother I'm going out," Primrose challenged. "I need to clear my head before I say something I'll regret."
"Primrose, wait," Elise called, but the other was too far. She still shouted the next words, as if that would get Primrose to walk back. She could see why Mrs.Bennett wasn't particularly pleased with Primrose's temper, even though Elise had always found it funny. "Your medication!"
-
Leaving the house for so long was unusual of Primrose. Elise tried not to get too worried. She had spoken with her sister, which had suggested she give the other time. Elise was currently thinking that maybe it had been enough time by now.
She was about to ask Mrs.Bennett if she was allowed to send a search party for Primrose when she came back. Elise tried to ignore the noticeable bruises, which Primrose had brushed off as a result of her own clumsiness. Mrs.Bennett, who Elise had called to accompany her after the third call that Primrose had declined, simply glanced up to acknowledge her daughter's presence.
Primrose underwent the numerous questions aimed at her from both her mother and her friend, and sat through the rant her mother gave.
"Really, Elise? You called my mother? Next thing you know, you'll be calling her from her room for emotional assistance when I take more than usual in the shower."
"She is your mother. What, am I not allowed to worry about you? " Elise questioned. "I thought something had happened, but forgive me for not believing you when you come home with your arms all bruised."
"My mother's more interested in whether her discount shoes resemble the ones in notable Berlin fashion magazines," Primrose pointed out, it wasn't necessarily untrue. "I'll be in my room."
-
Once in the sanctuary of her room, Primrose sighed. She knew it might've been more than a bit unreasonable to have gotten angry with Elise. And she would've gone to Elise's sister for advice, but had refrained, knowing the younger would probably side with Elise. Everyone was on what she called Elise's side. Primrose was tired of it.
Her phone flashed a notification, a call from Bastian. With a tap on the screen, the message was marked as read, her notification sound was silenced. She placed the device carefully on the dresser, ignoring the feeling that it was slightly harder to do everything. There was a call from her doctor, or one of the many that her own mother had recruited to help with Primrose, paid by money from the foundation. She forwarded the text to her mother's cell, not feeling well enough to go outside and tell her personally.
The phone's constant light of the screen as another notification rolled in repeated, and Primrose decided to just keep the phone with her anyway. The vibration was similar to that of a toy she had owned growing up. She clutched it, closing her eyes as she lay on the bed, pretending that it was a toy she could hug for comfort. Some days, she didn't want to get up, and recently those days had multiplied greatly. The only reason Primrose hadn't necessarily trapped herself in her room was Bastian, who meeting had turned out to be better than she expected.
Whatever she felt was no longer the admiration that she had held before, but something more romantic. It was like something out of Elise's sister Clair's fanfiction, with the and they lived happily ever after. Primrose's grip on the phone tightened. The image of a happily ever after with Bastian was shattered. The pain had made a comeback, seeing as she had been annoyed at her mother's interest in heels to have taken almost any medication this week. Yet the doctors who had all warned her mother about the dangers of such a trip remained clueless, convinced that she was fine.
The possibility of not returning from Germany surfaced in her mind. She closed her eyes tightly, pretending that the pain was from something like falling off a bike, something normal. She pretended that she was back in her normal room, where Elise would've barged in while Mrs. Bennett insisted she didn't like that punk girl, but glared when Elise had said she had come due to her mother's rants. Primrose had observed as her friend also adjusted to her mother, they could almost tolerate each other now.
She remembered about watching World Cup recordings while shouting indignantly at the refs, with or without Elise. Every stupid Fur Elise pun Primrose had made came to mind, she allowed herself to smile, remembering how Elise would react when Mrs.Bennett would make a sly reference to the Fur Elise. The scent of coffee came to mind, even after she had changed out of the stained shirt. Coffee reminded her of Bastian, who had assured her that she didn't look like she was sixty nine years old. The most recent memory she thought of was at a park, where she had been with Bastian that day. Primrose then decided to get out of bed, only to pull the covers over herself. Her absolute last thought before closing her eyes was that of the locked door to her room, and with a smile, she let go.
-
Well shit, what did I just write.
Guess you guys have to wait to know what happens when Clary gets around to updating, there's only one more chapter and an epilogue, which Clary will write.
So I guess this is my last update in Munchen, can't wait to see you in the next book I write with Clary (let's be real, this account would have like 8353837 book idea drafts between the two of us)
Thnks fr th mmrs (<-haha)
-brandy
