It's a fact that you can't help who you fall in love with. And for Rosaline Davenport and him, it definitely shouldn't have been each other.
Because, sometimes, love stories have blood on them.
[warning: this is the mother of all slow-burns]
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hi guys. this is to let you know I'm alive. how long has it been, btw? a decade? century?
【 50.
Fifty
Gulaab 】
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[ Gulaab • rose ]
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SCARLETT LIFTED A homemade doughnut from the wicker basket full of them, baked by none other than her favourite grandmother, Nana Davenport.
In fact, Nana might as well be the only grandmother she had—considering Scarlett couldn’t remember the last time she met her mother’s parents. They weren’t a part of her daily life the way her dad’s parents were.
“Hey, Nana,” she called out, dipping the warm doughnut into the bowl of powdered sugar. “How come I don’t see my other grandma as much as you?” Scarlett looked up to meet Nana’s eyes while taking a large bite out of her snack. The finely ground sugar melted on her tongue instantly, setting off explosions of sweetness inside her mouth.
“What for?” Nana asked, untying the bright yellow, flour-dusted apron she was wearing and then slipping it over her head. The gesture pulled loose a few greying hair strands from her loose bun. Hanging the apron over the back of a dining chair before sitting down on it, Nana swept back those flyaway strands and tucked them behind her ears before meeting Scarlett’s eyes, “Am I not enough anymore?” There was a smile playing at her lips.
“Don’t be silly, Nana,” Scarlett said, licking remnants of powdered sugar around her mouth. “I’m just asking. I think I’ve seen them only once this year.”
“They’re very busy people, sweetheart,” Nana smiled and pushed the basket of doughnuts closer. “I’m sure they’d love to spend time with you.”
Scarlett chewed thoughtfully, squinting at her grandmother. “But I never hear mum talking to them on the phone like how daddy always talks to you and Granddaddy.” She put her half-eaten doughnut down and scooted closer to the table. “And—and whenever I’m wearing something cute or doing an activity at home, mum takes pictures of it to put it into my photo album. But she always talks about how you and Granddaddy would love to see those, but she never says anything about showing those photos to grandma or grandpa.”
Scarlett always referred so affectionately to her paternal grandparents as Nana and Granddaddy, but couldn’t bring herself to feel the same way to her other set of grandparents—hence the rather generic, bland terms.
“Well, why don’t you go and ask your parents about that?” Nana snorted, reaching over the table and flicking Scarlett’s forehead. “I knew you were too smart for your age. Six year olds shouldn’t poke their nose where it doesn’t belong.”
