She was just a witch

And her memory is all that is left

The first nights after Misty's death were bad .

For hours upon hours, Cordelia would toss and turn in bed, unable to fall asleep, torn with guilt. She had sanctioned the test before Misty's time and because of that, she had lost her and something deep inside her told her that it was all her fault.

Most nights she would lay awake and she would try to detect Misty's lifeforce. She would try to catch a fleeting glimpse of that sweet, gentle energy that had always lingered in the hallways and in the greenhouse while Misty was still alive.

But just as Misty had left, so had her energy, and despite the surplus of new students, the academy seemed emptier than ever.

Sometimes Cordelia would dream about her too. In her dreams, Misty would still be there. She would lean her head to Cordelia's, noses brushing against one another, and her hands would roam, mapping out Cordelia's body carefully and exploratory. Her eyes would occasionally flick up, meeting Cordelia's, seeking approval to continue her ministrations. Of course, every single time, Cordelia would simply give her a go-ahead with a nod and a soft smile.

In her dreams, Misty would kiss her. Gently but forthright, soft but with a certain need and desperation, sweet but ever so passionate. Her lips would trail down, pressing kisses to her jaw and down her neck and Misty would whisper that she loved her. Cordelia never wanted these dreams to end but unfortunately they always did, and they did so far too soon.

Waking up from these kinds of dreams always left Cordelia feeling more heartbroken and lonelier than ever before.

The first time Cordelia returned to the greenhouse after Misty's death was worse .

It had been less than two days since it had happened. So many fond memories still lingered there, but those memories now felt tainted by her absence. In reality, she hadn't been ready to go back, but against better judgement she had done it anyway. She'd taken a few tentative steps inside, almost as if she were afraid. And perhaps she was afraid. Afraid to be met the stark reminders that Misty was no longer with her. Afraid of the confrontation. Afraid to be vulnerable . Cordelia had wanted to stay strong for the coven, for sure, but that had proven to be much harder than expected seeing as Misty was quite literally everywhere .

Because of that, it had not taken long for Cordelia to stumble upon one of those reminders either. Mere days before everything happened, the two of them had been working on a new potion that involved the louisiana mud. Misty had taken off her rings to keep them from getting dirty and apparently she had forgotten about them afterwards, for they still lay there on the medicine table. Cordelia had taken the set of rings, fumbled around with a couple of them for a second, before sliding the two silver frog-shaped ones around her own fingers. A sad smile had tugged on her lips as she had sat down on the cold stone floor with a shuddering sigh, her back leaning against the wall. Her lips had grazed over her knuckles and she'd hugged her knees tightly to her chest, face hidden in her hands. For the first time in days, she allowed her tears to flow freely and when she did, it broke a dam, and she had found herself unable to stop. She had stayed there until Zoe and Queenie had found her, pale-faced and with dark circles beneath her red and puffy eyes. The girls had taken her up to her room and they had decided that perhaps it was best if she were to take some time off to grief. Myrtle was going to take over for time being.

Letting go of her responsibilities wasn't easy for Cordelia but letting go of Misty was even harder.

Cleaning out Misty's room was the worst .

While she had tried to avoid going into Misty's room as best as she could, with the arrival of the new witches they needed the space, leaving her no choice but to go inside.

Memories of their last moments together had flashed before her. Misty touching her, embracing her, kissing her. Cordelia would do anything to relive that moment. She would pull Misty just a little bit closer, hold her just a little tighter and kiss her just a little fiercer.

She had sorted through Misty's belongings. Her little radio, her abundance of Fleetwood Mac cd's, her shawls that still carried her earthy scent. She'd wrapped one of them around her shoulders, hugging herself tightly. If she tried hard enough, she could almost imagine that Misty was right there with her, holding Cordelia in her arms. Her heart had wrenched violently and painfully when a sound coming from outside had pulled her from her reverie and she had found herself standing there all alone with Misty nowhere to be found.

After a while she'd given up, too, for the tears had clouded her vision so profusely that continuing would have been no use. She had eased down on Misty's bed, curling herself up into a little ball, wrapping herself up in Misty's sheets.

And she had stayed there until long after the night had fallen.

A couple of weeks after Misty's death, Cordelia had returned to her duties as headmistress. She still struggled to function properly for she still missed Misty dearly, but Myrtle was right. Life goes on.

That day, the only thing she had scheduled was an interview with a potential new student. The girl had walked into her office, her hair blonde and curly, just like Misty, her eyes bright azure, just like Misty's and she had worn a brightly coloured shawl around her shoulders. Just like Misty . It had taken Cordelia more than couple of seconds to recover.

The girl, who bore so much resemblance to her dearest Misty, hadn't understood why her new headmistress had stared at her with such an intense gaze. She hadn't understood why Cordelia had suddenly fallen quiet, completely lost in her thoughts and she hadn't understood why Cordelia's eyes had suddenly glazed over with tears.

Later on, though, she would hear the many stories from her classmates, about the bohemian witch who'd twirled her way into Cordelia's heart, only to be snatched away unforgivingly.

Because despite her absence, Misty's legacy would live on at Robichaux's. Forever.

Cordelia would make sure of that.