[Wednesday POV]
A few days have passed since the gargoyle incident.
I was on the balcony, cello in hand. The sky above was black and indifferent, a fitting backdrop. The notes I drew from the strings were sharp, unforgiving. They bled into the courtyard like a warning.
After the near-death experience, I had taken a shard of the broken gargoyle, pressed it to my skin, and forced a vision. I saw him — Rowan, the four-eyed boy from fencing. He had pushed it with his telekinetic power.
The cello hummed, still vibrating with the last note, when the door creaked open.
"Wow," Enid said, stepping onto the balcony. Her voice was too bright, like glitter trying to cover a bruise. "That was… actually kind of beautiful."
I ignored her. Compliments meant nothing. Especially unsolicited ones.
She drifted closer to the railing, restless, filling silence like it was oxygen.
"I didn't mean to interrupt," she added. "I just… wanted to talk."
I resumed playing. To her credit, she held her tongue for almost a minute. A miracle.
Then, of course, she spoke again.
"I know you see me as competition because of Perseus," she said. "But for what it's worth… I don't hate you. I just don't want us to be enemies."
The bow paused against the string. Competition?
"There is no competition when the result is already known," I replied without looking at her.
She gave a weak laugh. "Yeah. I figured you'd say something like that."
But still, she didn't leave. Her voice softened, words spilling out before she could stop them.
"Before I met Perseus, I was… nothing. Everyone saw what I couldn't do — wolf out, control myself, fit the mold. Nobody ever saw me, just the failure. Then he showed up."
Her arms wrapped tight across her chest, bracing against a storm only she felt.
"He didn't try to fix me. He didn't pity me. He just… treated me like I wasn't broken. And he helped me so much… in his own way.
I still remember the night I clawed my way out of a coffin. I woke in darkness, panicked, scraping wood, until my nails hit dirt. That's when it happened — the first time I transformed into a wolf. When I finally tore myself free and fell back into human form, I was naked, filthy, bugs crawling in my hair. And there he was. Just standing there. Holding a cake, like it was a birthday party. Congratulating me while I was covered in mud, shaking, broken… smiling."
A sharp laugh escaped her, but it sounded closer to a sob.
"I wanted to kill him that night. And yet… he was the only one who believed I could actually awaken. And I did."
Her fingers twitched faintly as she spoke, but her voice cracked.
"He never laughed at me. Never called me weak. He made me feel like I belonged, like I was worth something. And after that… how do you let go of someone who made you feel like you weren't nothing?"
When she finally stopped, I let the silence hang. Then:
"I'm not interested in your tragic backstory," I said flatly. "All powerful men like to keep a pet to pat before bed."
She didn't flinch. "As long as he loves me." She looked down, then up again, eyes hard. "I just don't want to be left behind. If staying close means scraps, a pat before he sleeps, then that's enough."
I looked at her, just briefly. Her face wasn't mocking. It wasn't sarcastic. Just sincere. I hated how disarming sincerity could be.
"Don't you feel pathetic? Just because he supported you at your lowest point."
Her gaze locked on mine, steady and unwavering.
"Isn't that enough?"
She smiled faintly, then changed the subject.
"Why did you fall in love with him?"
The bow slipped against the string, making a discordant note.
Because he's always at my side. He accepts me for what I am. He supports everything I do… It's the same thing my mother once told me when I asked why she loved my father. Do I want him because he reminds me of my father?
My voice was calm, but sharper than usual "…I love how he walks the line between genius and madness. How he can beat me in anything and never boast about it. How he burns with obsession and yet stays calm enough to hold the match steady."
Her eyes widened slightly. She whispered, almost reverent:
"That's a strange way to express love… still, kind of beautiful."
The words lingered in the air. For once, there was no sarcasm on her face, no mask of glittering cheer. Just quiet sincerity, and it unsettled me more than her claws ever could.
She turned as if to leave, but I wasn't finished.
"Someone wants to kill Perseus."
Her head snapped back, eyes blazing. "Who? Why?"
"Rowan tried to kill us. I think his target was Perseus — I've only met him once, but Perseus knew him last year."
"That doesn't make sense," Enid said quickly. "They are friends."
"I will find out why," I replied. "Do you want to help?"
Enid hesitated, then nodded. "Yes."
"Good," I said, rising from my chair. "Then tell me, where can I find a quiet place… and two shovels?"
Her face drained. "Shovels? Why would we need…?"
I smiled thinly, lowering the cello bow.
"Because corpses don't bury themselves."
************
Author Note:
Good morning, and in case I don't see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!