I woke up to the sound of soft music wafting through the air, dancing with the measures that printed invisible notes across the walls. And if I were to give a color to them, I'd describe it to be more of a muted yellow, somewhat warm in saturation with gold flecks sprinkled throughout it. It wasn't the soulful kind of music I'd hear Samael play past midnight in his room nor was it anything heavy, but rather light. A breath of fresh air, smoke drawing loose circles into the air before disappearing into nothing.
Most nights were like this with me waking up at random hours and wandering out only to find someone else or a few people who found themselves restless and wide awake. And I loved that atmosphere — the feeling that I would never be alone at any given moment of time. It wrapped me up in cozy blankets, made me rest easy without having to worry.
So this time, when I saw Azazel sitting down at the side of my bed, shirt uncharacteristically untucked from his trousers, something glowing in his eyes, I wasn't the least bit surprised. More so curious, if anything, because none of Uriel's companions ever came to wake me unless I'd somehow managed to sleep past noon.
"Yu Rui, are you awake enough?"
I rubbed my eyes, sleep still clinging to my body. My limbs felt heavy, but my mind was clear at least. To answer his question, I nodded, yawning halfway through.
He looked like he wanted to laugh, but kept it to himself, stifling it behind his smile. Getting up, he extended a hand, waiting for me to grab it before pulling me off the bed.
My slippers were already lined up at the base; Azazel probably having done that while he waiting for me to wake up. Feet touching the soft velvet of the shoes, I let him lead me out into the hallway towards where the kitchen was.
Vision still somewhat blurry and unfocused, I couldn't really see what was happening, but the lights were all turned off, though the area was still dimly-lit. And as I walked closer to it, I realized that small lights had been wrapped around the walls, the bulbs like fireflies dancing in a dark forest.
Uriel was sitting at the very end of the dining table, Raum and Orias accompanying her as Samael played right next to them, his piano a glossy black that reflected the fairy lights.
That same music I'd heard was clear now, every note decipherable. It was the kind of music you wanted to close your eyes to, but it didn't make you fall asleep at all.
I almost wanted to sway against the rhythm of it, bring my arms up to dance with the ghost of my father, pretend my mother was right next to us, camera up to record.
The idea brought a pang to my chest, my heart squeezing painfully as my fingers followed. Azazel looked down at me, a question in his eyes, but I didn't say anything, just let the corners of my mouth curl up at the edges. It wasn't so much as sad. If anything, it was the sort of nostalgic memory that made you wish for happier moments in life. The sort of memory that made you happy that you were able to have a past that treated you well.
I stopped being a child the moment I stepped foot into this estate, stopped thinking and acting like one the moment I saw Uriel. Something that changed within me and exposed my mind to maturity — something I'd overheard Azazel say was because of some kind of "curse."
But, at this moment, I couldn't begin to believe that all of this was some kind of curse. Because rather than a curse, it seemed more like a blessing. Being able to be surrounded by all these people I cherish even after losing two was something that not many people could experience. I was just lucky enough to be able to.
When I finally broke out of my thoughts and returned to reality, Orias had gotten up to pull a chair out for me at the other end of the table. He bowed slightly, arm out as if introducing me to the rest of the people at the table. And after I sat down, Azazel taking the seat right next to me, Orias pushed the chair in for me.
YOU ARE READING
The Witch's Toy ✔
Paranormale[completed] horror // paranormal // romance A witch girl tied to cursed demons and her dear puppet boy who kills them. ••• I traced the characters with a finger, my brows coming together with concentration as I read the curling black ink. It was a b...