EMBERS : the umbrella academy [2] [COMPLETE]

DAY 612

     CARLA EXHALED A BREATH OF SMOKE, watching it spiral up into the air above. She was sat at the end of the large garden, on a small swinging bench, gently rocking herself back and forth.

     "Carla?" Marie called out into the night air, beginning to approach the teen. She hoisted up the ends of her skirts so that they wouldn't drag on the dirt, and Carla smiled at the pointy leather boots that were revealed.

     Marie and Quentin had told Carla they met in Victorian London, around 1889, which was why they both seemed to favour the fashions of that era.

     The Americans they rubbed shoulders with so often assumed their unusual style was due to the fact they had 'moved from London' a few years prior.

     In actual fact, the couple just preferred the styles of that time, but with their own twist.

     Hence the fishnet Marie seemed obssessed with, the dresses with a tight corset and layers upon layers of tulle and chiffon, and the shiny metal capping to her boots that glinted under the gentle moonlight.

     Carla smiled slightly at the elder woman, "Hey."

     Marie sat on the swing next to her, letting out a small squeak of surprise as it swayed more agressively.

     There was a long pause, before the blonde spoke up, voice gentle, "We were wondering where you went."

     "Just wanted some air," she replied, before tapping off some of the excess ash from her cigarette.

     Marie eyed her for a second, before she let out a huff of exasperation, "Okay then - out with it."

     "What?" Carla frowned.

     "Something's clearly bothering you," she said, softer this time, before she asked quietly, "What's wrong?"

     "I hate these parties," she said eventually, "They annoy me."

     "I know they do, love," Marie looked up at the night sky, "They're not exactly my favourite thing either. The sixties are swinging, all right, but the sexist pigs can ruin the whole bloody thing."

     Carla let out a small laugh, "Yeah."

     "I mean, I just had to listen to that Mr. Brown congratulating Quentin on the artefact collection we have," she continued, "As if I could have had no role in it whatsoever!"

      The teen passed her cigarette to Marie, who took a drag before handing it back.

     "I stole just as much, if not more, than Quentin," she said, before pointing to the diamond necklace always fastened around her neck, "See this old thing?"

     Carla nodded.

     "I took it from Queen Vicky herself," Marie smiled down at it fondly, "It's probably worth millions, but I could never bring myself to sell it. I love it too much."

     The redhead admired the necklace for a second. It was beautiful, with a very delicate chain encrusted with small diamonds that made it glint with every shift of movement.

     Hanging at the middle of the chain was a large, teardrop shaped diamond, that seemed to hold every colour imaginable in its depths.

     "It's pretty," she admitted after a while.

     "Maybe one day I'll gift it to my favourite daughter who's not actually my daughter," Marie said casually, and it took a moment for Carla to understand.

     She grinned widely at Marie, "Really?"

     "Yeah, but only if she gets her arse back into the dinner party we're supposed to be hosting," she got up, once again holding up her skirts to keep them clean, and winked at Carla, "I'll see you in there, my dear."

     Carla smiled fondly at Marie's retreating figure, heart swelling with affection for the woman who had become a lot like a motherly figure to her.

     She took a final drag of her cigarette before dropping it on the floor and crushing it under her heel.

     The dress Carla was wearing was a simple black in colour, with white trimmings and a white belt. The skirt stopped at her knee, and was slightly flared. The heels, although uncomfy, were rather flattering, and were strappy in a simple white colour.

     She took in a deep breath, before heading up through the garden and towards the house. All of the guests were gathered in the main room, drinks clutched in their hands as they mingled.

     They had been there for over two hours and they still hadn't been called to the table for dinner. Carla was getting hungry.

     "Ah, Carla, there you are," Quentin said when he caught sight of her, and Carla noted the look in his eyes as he gestured her over, "I'd like to introduce you to someone."

     She approched him cautiously, standing next to Quentin and not missing the slight nudge he gave her.

     "Carla, meet Mr Hillenkoeffer," he said, "Hoyt, this is my lovely daughter Carla."

     Hoyt Hillenkoeffer was a man in his late fifties, with closely cropped grey hair and thin wired spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose.

     Carla reached out to shake his hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir."

     "Likewise," he said, "I was just talking to Quentin about the gala I'm planning to hold in a few months - that you both and Marie are invited to, of course."

     "Sounds lovely," she smiled tightly, wondering why Quentin had dragged her over to meet this man.

     "Yeah, it should be a great time to reunite with some old friends," Hoty said, "In fact, just two days ago I sent an invite to one of my closest friends, Reginald."

     Carla froze.

     Of course Quentin had a reason to bring her over.

     "Oh, really?" Carla asked, "Has he replied yet?"

     "No, not yet," he chuckled at what seemed to be an inside joke only he understood, "But I have no doubt in my mind that he'll be there."

     Just then, Lucy the maid rang a bell, alerting the guests to the fact dinner was ready.

     "I had better head to my seat before someone tries to take it," Hoyt joked, before walking away, and once he was out of earshot, Carla tyrned to Quentin.

     "Reginald?" she hissed excitedly, "As in the Sir Reginald Hargreeves?"

      Quentin nodded, "I've had my suspicions about Hoyt for a while now - I should have known Reginald would be involved too!"

     "And we're invited to the gala?" Carla checked.

     "Of course we are," he scoffed, "What kind of social climber would I be if we weren't?"

     Carla, still grinning widely, pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, "You're the best."

     "Tell me something I don't know," he quipped teasingly, "Now go eat your food before it gets cold."

      She nodded, and bounded off to the table with a spring in her step.

      And as she ate, for the first time in a while, Carla felt hope.

a/n: stan marie and quentin for clear skin 🤰

also, if you couldnt tell, this gala is the one diego, five and lila go to 😈 lolz

and because im nosy, what do u guys think is gonna happen in this fic? im ✨curious✨

n e wayz i LOVE all of you guys who comment on each chapter like its so fun to read through your reactions and stuff 😹

MWAH!