i'm getting tired even for a phoenix always rising from the ashes

°• ♔ •°

Celeste closed her eyes, alone with only the company of her heartbeat.

She sat on the floor at the foot of her bed, crushing the skirts of her wedding dress beneath her. She would face her mother's hysteria about the wrinkles later. 

If it were for any other occasion, Celeste would've loved the dress. But for this reason, she felt the strongest urge to chuck it into the fireplace and set a thousand curses upon it.

It was a mass of black and gold. The bodice was generously low and fitted tight against her figure, but it still managed to look elegant. The sleeves were restricting and tight, but past her hips, the skirt flared and trained several meters behind her. The front was entirely bare of detailing, but the backside was a magnificent masterpiece of heartbreak and joy. Golden threads, gleaming metals, and shining jewels were artfully arranged into impressive patterns of sunbursts, streaking stars, and glistering constellations. She had become a midnight goddess of the heavens and the universe itself. 

Any muggle would've have passed her for a queen. 

Suddenly, the door was flung wide, and in marched the cavalry. 

"Celeste," Mrs. Malfoy gasped, horrified. "Up! Get up!" She marched over to her daughter and helped hoist her up. "What's the matter? Why are you on the ground? I― Oh honestly, Celeste. Please have a bit more care for your dress. I know you know how important this is ― for everyone."

Celeste frowned, shrugging off her mother's arm. "Mother, it's fine."

"Fine?" her mother cried incredulously. "Please have a bit more concern, Celeste. There's only an hour left. Now hurry into the chair. Your hair looks like a bird's nest."

Wordlessly, Celeste moved across the room and sat in front of her vanity. She watched in the smooth mirror as her mother arranged her dark tresses back, pinned down with a golden diadem. In order to show off the back of her gown, the rest of her hair was intricately braided and pinned up into a regal updo. She sat in agony, counting down every second as her mother continued to dust cosmetics across her wan face.

Mrs. Malfoy finally set down the brushes. "There," she said, quietly. 

Celeste looked up. Her lips and cheeks were flushed with life and a subtle shimmer highlighted the highest points of her face, enhancing her cheekbones. It made her look older. Any sort of tired dullness was concealed and erased. Her eyes had somehow become brighter, and were enhanced by some strange color. 

She swallowed, unsure what to say.  

Her mother set a cold hand on her shoulder. The physical affection was unnerving. "Are you ready?"

Celeste closed her eyes and nodded stiffly.

♔

Muffled fanfare blared from the room Celeste was about to step into.

Her hands were trembling.

Celeste swallowed a shaky breath, and the grand double doors swept open, revealing her to her doom. In a clamour of sparkling skirts and ribbons, the guests rose and turned for a glimpse of her. Holding her head higher, Celeste took the first tentative step forward. And then other. And then she was walking. 

Ivory hydrangea lined the path, illuminated by the light of candles that filled the room. Great diamond chandeliers dangled from the golden ceiling, accompanied by a sky of endless silk that elaborately draped and overlapped itself, gleaming and lustering with the same iridescence of pearls. 

But against all the purity that the luminous room seemed to bathe in, Celeste was a vision of dark bewitchment. 

When the audience finally received the fullest view of her gown, a hushed murmur rippled through the crowd, earning awed and dumbstruck eyes. 

Celeste steeled her spirit and climbed the steps up the altar, where she met the eyes of her ruination. 

Evan Rosier was smirking down at her, a sinister sort of look gleaming across his eyes.

Celeste looked away, back towards the door, past all the silently judging eyes. A part of her was desperately begging for a way out. But now, more than ever, a hopeless dread was beginning to consume her.

The officiator began to recite words, all of them fading and blurring together in her mind. Doom, doom, doom, was the only thing she could hear. And then she realized there was a cold ring on her finger. And then, Evan was holding her hands, reciting some strange vows and promises that she knew were all hoaxes. Celeste nodded stiffly, saying a short "yes" here and there.

The world seemed to fall and cleave apart with a single cursed kiss. And all too soon, a quill was forced into her shaking hands, and Celeste Rosier signed her soul away. 

Celeste drew further and further into herself, transforming herself into a smiling doll as the afternoon melted into the night. She danced and drank for what seemed like an eternity, her only friends in the stars, quietly watching her through the glass windows.  

When it all finally ended, the candles were blown out, and the glitter and glamour vanished by the magic of house elves. All that remained evidence of the nightmare was Celeste's heart, shattered again for what would be the third time. 

She stood in the empty ballroom, standing in the lonely dark. Evan had thankfully disappeared, leaving her alone to think. Regret had already passed by her. Remorse had withered away. Hope had become a butterfly, frantically fluttering away. The invisible gashes across her soul stayed open, bleeding freely. 

There was nothing to be done. 

It was over for now. 

Celeste clenched her wand in her tight fist and twisted, apparating away to the only place she could think of. 

♔

The flat was in a state of disaster. 

Music records were sprawled across the wine stained carpet, accompanied by the occasional empty bottle. A few random chairs stood in peculiar places, and a pair of leather shoes were on the kitchen table. 

Celeste couldn't exactly recall where she had apparated to. She had only been thinking of a singular person. 

Tentatively, she walked further into the dark kitchen, where she was greeted by dozens of liquor bottles on the counters. Some were half empty, and a select few were unopened. Celeste took hold of a bottle of cabernet and uncorked it with her wand. She took a deep drink from it, making the taste of champagne in her mouth become sour. She grimaced and kept drinking. 

If the person she had thought of truly lived here, he wouldn't mind. 

The alcohol filled her with a buzzing warmth as she took one last swallow. She set the bottle down with a loud thud and exhaled. 

The sound of breathing filled the silence. She closed her eyes, soaking in the relaxing quiet. But with a sudden jolt, Celeste's eyes flew open.

The breathing was not was not her own. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

this is my favorite gif i've used so far!

this chapter didn't have as much dialogue as usual, but it's been a minute since i've written about celeste's very vivid mind. i know she's going through it right now but the plot hasn't completely thickened yet! i have so much in store for you guys and i've dropped a lot of foreshadowing in the past few chapters. any guesses?

again, thank you for all the support. i get nervous every time i upload but your votes and comments always make my day! thankyouthankyouthankyou!!

love, aria.