ᏚᏌᎷᎷᎪᎡY : You're Cordelia's daughter, and you're in a secret relationship with Michael. But once the bombs hit, you're separated.
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You first met Michael Langdon three years before the bomb. You had been summoned to the Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young boys, alongside your mother, Cordelia, mentor, Myrtle Snow, and best friend, Zoe Benson. Apparently, there was something 'urgent' that the Grand Chancellor, Ariel, wanted to inform the four of you, that required you to fly from Louisiana to California.
None of you were very happy, and that displeasure only grew once you learned the subject of the meeting. You could feel your mother's concern wafting over to you at the mere thought of a male taking over her position as Supreme, and becoming a so-called 'Alpha'. It didn't take long for the four of you to make a hasty retreat.
As you left the school, your mother's words continued to echo in your ear, 'because I'm the fucking Supreme'. You'd always seen your mom as the strongest witch to ever live, but you couldn't help but doubt her intentions.
You felt as though the boy they spoke of deserved a chance at the Seven Wonders. If he did die, then it was nobody's fault. It was just how the tests went, how life went.
Stepping into the harsh California sun, you stood between your mother and Zoe as three shadows steadily approached you. It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust before you were staring at the familiar faces of Queenie and Madison; two of your best friends that had supposedly died two years ago. Your breath hitched as Queenie raised her hand in a wave, and before you can think twice, you're rushing towards them.
You only get a few feet before there's a thud from behind you. You turn around, and you're shocked at the sight of your mother collapsed on the ground. Queenie rushes past you, and a few moments later, Madison is following at a slower pace. You pause, heart still racing in shock, as you turn from your mother's collapsed body, to the blond boy in front of you. He's wearing a smug smirk, and he looks as though he's looking down upon the world, yourself included.
"Thanks..." you manage to breathe out, giving the boy a quick once-over, before you're rushing to your mother's side.
Throughout the next year, you and Michael meet sporadically. You see each other occasionally, especially now that he's officially challenging your mother's title, but it's never for as long, or as often, as you'd like. When you do see each other, your visits are short and secret, kept to the confines of your bedroom, where your friendship is allowed to blossom into something more. Because even though logically you should be enemies, you can't help the attraction you feel towards each other.
"You know," Michael begins softly, his fingers curling in the ends of your hair, "this place is much nicer than Hawthorne."
"Random, but true," you grin, tilting your head slightly. The two of you are laid out on your unmade bed, shoes dirtying the pristine, white sheets. "But Hawthorne is so... vintage and unique. It's like Hogwarts." Michael can't help the uncharacteristic snort that escapes his lips.
"Hogwarts? Really?"
"Yeah! And this is Beauxbatons!" you explain, voice giddy. Michael rolls his eyes with a fond smile, moving his fingers to trace your cheekbones.
"God, you are such a loser," he hums, staring at where his fingers touch your skin. You pout, thoroughly offended.
"Uhm, ouch? I'm offended," you huff, pulling your face away from his hand so you can lay on your back. You cross your arms over your chest, intent on ignoring him. Michael smirks, and within a second, he's hovering over you, your arms forcibly pinned above your head. A choked gasp of surprise leaves your mouth as you look from your arms, to his face.
