/ˈɒpjʊl(ə)ns,ˈɒpjʊləns/
⇒noun
great wealth or luxuriousness.
"you taste of melancholia and rotting pain"
"and you, of an opulence that courses within the broken veins of a decaying dynasty"
cover by @plutoqissed
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─ · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─
Charlene and Anya were willing their time away, waiting for the house to nestle upon the dining table, serving the plates of red meat, while the wide variety of bruschetta with their dressing that stretched from hues of sun kissed orange to a black liquorice.
The Thrombeys usually indulged in their riches as it was their only escape and their only curse.
"So, wha-what happened." Charlene used her voice to announce but the words fell shakily in gauchieric manner. She wasn't nervous for herself, sure there was a twinge of morbid curiosity.
Charlene kept rocking in her thoughts, wondering if she really just heard Mr.Drysdale say those things or if it was premature just imagination.
"He just..I dunno' threw the cig down I suppose." Anya wanted to speak freely about the matter, unaware that her ears had absorbed episodes of their conversation in a huge muffle. She wanted to tell Charlene about their ephemeral lovers tryst, vent out and scream until her lung dried up like a prune.
But, all it would sound like was Ransom using her as his platonic object crafted of human emotion for when he felt the altitudes of lust wash over him, all it would sound like was - opulent delusion.
She started to soon weigh the consequences of what telling someone might mean for him, and she couldn't hurt the man more than the pain his soul was dissolving around itself.
It wouldn't even just affect him anymore, it would affect the Thrombey's, her job that she needed desperately to try manage her tuitions fees for university and it would affect his marriage.
"The brui-" Charlene blurted and before she could finish pouring out her words, an irreversible action just as a silent buzzer illuminated in red, signalling them to start getting the food out.
"Home stuff." Anya shrugged with a nervous chuckle - hoping Charlene would tie the threads back to Anya's randomised mentions about her clandestine home conditions that she usually used as means of anomalous dark humour.
'Right, that must be it.' Charlene thought to herself trying to rationalise her explanation, still in disbelief of Mr.Drysdale's pungent words that she thought she heard. 'I'm probably going insane' her mind echoed putting an end to her stream of consciousness as the pair finished arranging the food on its tray.
"Oh s-sorry."
"Shut up, you know I don't care about that shit." The pair busted into a whisper of jittery chuckles as they started to push the tray with all its delicacies to the dining hall.
They entered the room, for the first time in what seemed like forever there was faint laughter meandering past the invisible barricades of the corridor. The whole family was at the table, Richard and Linda too had spared some time to waste on this occasion as well.
