forelsket ( adj. ) - the euphoria you experience when you are first falling in love

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ now playing ; alone pt. II

ANASTASIA WAS
UNDERSTANDABLY EXHAUSTED

An unwarranted sigh fell through Anastasia as she looked up from where she was sitting. Against the windowsill, staring out the large window, watching the rain as it fell from the skies. She could smell the sea still, blue eyes following the sharp coastline as the waves pulsed like some kind of living thing.

The book on her lap, marked with a ribbon for where she had left off, sat unappreciated. Her thoughts wandered elsewhere, out towards the direction she believed her family might be. Irritatingly enough, mindless thoughts floated in and out of her ears, matching in rhythm with the drifting rain before her. Absently, Asia pressed fingertips to the chilled surface of the glass, instead turning her head to see the forest that thickened behind her. A winding trail from the front of her house vanishing into it – towards the main cabin instead. A trail that would lead her to Cordelia's new home eventually.

It'd been new, to come here, to have a home now to herself. One she didn't have to pay off, or mortgage, or focus on where the fuck everything came from. Like electricity. And running water. And plumbing systems. No, of course it was all magic. Anastasia found it unnerving, but she wouldn't lie and say it wasn't convenient at the least. She was sure the others would agree with her. It was an odd place, but it was far more welcoming than most of the places she'd grown up.

Then again, the bar wasn't set very high.

Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, Asia stood, casting the book aside onto the padded windowsill of her home. She could hear the flickering of the fireplace, the one beginning to smolder, in her bedroom - away from the music room where she now stood. Her eyes turned to admire the grand piano that sat in the center, her violin carefully tucked away for the moment.

Anastasia would rather bitch and scream, then thank Cue for nearly anything - but she was grateful to get to bring some of the little pieces with her. Likely her parents would have thrown it out if it didn't appear useful to them anyways.

The soft rumble of thunder turned her attention back to the storm, but again, she only shook them away, making her way down the hallway, towards the kitchen.

The rain always made her want to bake.

It was odd like that, but there was something euphoric about it. Something just a little bit softer, that she only felt safe indulging in when it was dark and stormy outside. That bit of vulnerability, when the skies mirrored how she often felt on the inside.

Another sigh fell from her lips as she reached for the music, to click it on, classical renditions of a multitude of songs echoing across the floors. It accompanied the thunder of the storm in some kind of symphony. Asia walked to the thrum of the rhythm, locating the ingredients she needed to cook. Something simple, but something warm.

Honey cookies then, like the one's her grandmother used to make her. It'd been a little secret between them, and only in the privacy of her home, Asia smiled at the memory. A small little thing, and something scarce to be sure. It had been an old german recipe, something that tasted like all the good memories in her life.

It was muscle memory to make them, but for a brief moment she wondered how the altitude might affect them. Then she remembered that this again was a magic island, and likely it'd adapt to her needs as necessary. Asia bit back the urge to roll her eyes. Not at anyone in particular, perhaps herself, but more so at the fact that magic was a very integrated part of her life now.

Magic was so...odd. There was so much that went into it, and yet no one knew anything about it. Except Cue that is, and he didn't seem good and ready to spill any kind of secrets, even if Asia was determined to pry it out of him come their morning runs. He was determined, but hell, so was she. Even Echo didn't seem entirely sure of all it, even about the wings.

The wings.

Anastasia let out an absent-minded huff, pausing her mixing to taste as bitter thoughts crawled into her head. Not intrusive, but rather a question of why her. Asia found herself asking the question, late at night, where there was nothing in the world to occupy herself but the terrifying void of herself. Of course, yes, she knew that she was very unloved in her life, very looked over and looked down upon - but so were so many people. Which begged the question - why the fuck did Cue pick her?

Echo gave her that bullshit once, about him having his reasons, but sometimes she seriously doubted Cue didn't just pick her name from some kind of raffle. Course, Asia knew well that Cue was smarter than that, at least a little. Still. She doubted he fully knew what he was doing sometimes.

What kind of group were they anyway? Some rag-tag group of abandoned children with an unspeakable amount of family problems, relationship troubles, negligence, and trust issues?

Certainly, they could not possibly be the best that the world had to offer when it came to choosing the immortals of love.

And yet, here she was. Now making old German honey cookies, like the one's her grandmother made. That same grandmother who had more than likely cried over her, mourned for her, when hardly anyone else had. Making cookies on some god-forsaken magic island, who happened to know her favorite colors, her dream home, everything she might want. Living with a group of people she hardly knew, doing her part in the community of love and prosperity to inflict karma on those who deserved it. Leaving everything, everyone she knew behind, to fake her death, and embrace the magic of love or some fucking bullshit like that.

Asia blinked, realizing the grip on the spatula had tightened impossibly. She forcibly unclenched her hand, sending one last wistful glance out the window, into the pulsing tides of the ocean below, before returning once again to her current task.

I'll need to talk to Cordelia at some point, about the soul crossover. Maybe after she's settled in more...

Closing her eyes for a moment, Asia sunk into her soul, feeling it out. Her power, her energy. It was dark, down there. Echo had described to her a pool of arcana somewhere deep in her, a well where she could dive and dive and dive, and rip handfuls of it up, but it took precision, focus and practice to direct it properly. The thing was, it didn't feel like a well to Asia, it felt like a void. Impossibly dark. Looming above and below her, beckoning with the calls of the dark she'd been taught to be scared of. It wasn't a well at all, but a vast expanse of absolutely nothing.

There was that buzz deep in her chest, a tingling sensation in her arm as a spiral of something when tracking up it. Asia bit the inside of her cheek, resisting the urge to jerk away from it.

Give in to it, Asia.

She could hear Echo's advice. About the magic, about the first time that Asia had felt it. Give into it. Embrace it. Not just your magic, it's not just about magic, but you have to embrace yourself.

Resisting the urge to scoff at the sentimental words, Asia furrowed her eyebrows. Let go. She could do that, couldn't she?

Or was this vast unknown, this looming expanse before her, too much of a lingering threat to let go at all. What if she couldn't get back?

Who would come for her then?

Who would come if I called?

A knock, hurried, but soft, startled from her thoughts, and the sound ripped Asia deep from within whatever tresses of her mind that she might have been exploring. The knock came again, re-orienting her from whatever discovery she'd been rapidly yanked from.

Shaking her head, running a hand through golden curls, she hurried to the door, opening it. The sound of rain filled her ears, a brisk breeze skittering down from the earth into her warm home as one of the twin doors swung open. The wood scraped against her fingertips, smooth to the touch, with that unspoken language inscripted against it. It was almost unnoticeable, but Asia noticed it. Had noticed it on every front door of each of the houses, actually. It was peculiar, especially in finding it was a recognizable language – at least not one that had been recorded. She just hadn't managed to get up the absolute audacity to demand an answer from Cue about it.

Not yet, at least.

Before her was Echo. She was beaming as usual, skin glistening with the onslaught of freshly poured rain. Wings hung behind her, beautifully curved, even with the bandage that interrupted the sight. A smile accompanied her as usual, bright and beaming as her wings fluttered. That brush of pain darted over her face, but it was gone in an instant as expected. Instead Echo held out a container, the one she'd been holding in her arms that Asia had apparently missed in her analysis of the scene before her.

She blamed it on her most recent escapade to discover something more about the ability she harnessed, instead raising an eyebrow down at the tub, and then back at her friend.

Fortunately, Echo didn't keep her waiting for an explanation long. "I made you something!" Excitement, and that lovely enthusiasm that seemed to bleed from Echo like some kind of untapped energy force, lined each word. Something about it melted that little bit of irritation at being interrupted. Asia shouldn't have been surprised. Echo just seemed to have that effect on people.

"Ah." She only shook her head, gripping her arm to pull her in from the overwhelming cold. Magic or not, she doubted the bitter air was good for her healing wings. Echo thanked her with a nod before hurriedly slipping off her shoes, then going to the table to no doubt very proudly present to Asia what exactly she'd accomplished.

"I made you Russian Tea Cakes!" Echo let out a satisfactory humm, "Because well, you speak russian all the time, and your name is Anastasia after all, so-" Her eyes sparked as they snapped back to look up at Asia, a childlike wonderment adorning them, as if she hadn't been an immortal for centuries. "And I looked somewhere that said that while they aren't the same as puff- pfeffer- uh-"

"Pfeffernusse?"

"Yes! Those! They aren't the same, but lots of people like those cookies, like Russian tea cakes, and those are German cookies, so I figured you might enjoy these too." Echo just finished setting the tub down, revealing little sponges of powdered cookies, small enough to eat in a bite. Asia looked over them, trying desperately to ignore that warmth that Echo just seemed to radiate from her everywhere she went.

She remembered.

Asia recalled when she was talking to her about the recipes she missed, she just didn't think Echo had been listening.

Of course she had been listening.

Echo was always listening. To everyone. To everything. Trying to soak up all the possible beauty and information the world could possibly offer her.

No wonder she writes such lovely poetry.

That silly feeling of comfort, of adoration, began to worm it's way into her heart. Asia internally groaned at the emotion, but looked up to Echo, giving a light nod. "Thankyou, Echo, that's really sweet of you to remember, I-"

Her words were cut off by arms going around her neck fluidly, Echo's soft huffy laugh reverberating over her shoulder. For a moment, only a brief one, Asia was still, until her arms moved again to embrace her right back. "Asia, don't be silly, I always remember."

There was a pause of silence, and something cracked in Asia's chest. Echo always remembered.

For so long, Asia had prayed, pleaded, that her parents would remember her. That they would know her, that they would see her, and finally, finally, give her the love she deserved. The love she wanted. But they forgot. Every time. They forgot who she was, what she wanted. They forgot Asia wasn't perfect, and probably would never be. They forgot that she used to love the violin, before they forced her to play it day after day, for hours on end. They forgot who she'd been, and forced her to become something that she wasn't.

They hadn't been the only ones.

Asia had forgotten herself. Had forgotten the person that her grandparents had encouraged her to be. Had forgotten about the little girl who loved honey cookies, and the feeling of playing piano when no one was watching. Forgotten about the rolling hills of the french countryside. Forgotten how sweet Swedish chocolate was the first time her grandfather brought it home to her at the return of one of his many travels. Forgot the feeling of warm arms around you. Forgotten the feeling of safety, forgotten the feeling of home.

I always remember.

Asia felt her head drop into Echo's shoulder. Just for a moment. Just one second to allow her this kind of vulnerability. To let her guard fall in this one moment. Asia just needed this source of respite, and it seemed like Echo knew it. Echo always knew it.

Let go, Asia.

Echo's laugh again sounded, turning soft. "Anyway!" There was a lingering pull back, twin hands finding Asia's arms, steadying her. The brunette's head tilted, a smile brightening her face all over again. "I hope they turned out alright, Cue said they looked okay."

"I'm sure they're fine, Echo." Asia nodded reassuringly, and couldn't stop the gentle smile that darted over her face. She wondered how Echo did that, how she was so pure, and sincere, and so empathetic, as basic as it sounded. But most of all, Anastasia wondered how Echo seemed to just know these things about everyone. She could see through practically anyone, lie or not, and sometimes Echo only chose to indulge them.

Echo's laugh again sounded, sending sparkles of sparkling lights across the room, encasing Asia's arm in her's. "I hope so, I'd hate to make you sick with salmonella or something.." Spinning around Anastasia, a kiss was planted on her cheek, a gesture of goodwill. "Sleep well, Asia." And then the arm slipped from the crook of her own, and Echo was stepping across the threshold of her door once again, turning only once to look back at her, a pseudo scolding glance darting over her feminine features. "I mean it, go to sleep."

Petulantly, something that Asia couldn't help, she half-grinned, "Make me."

Echo's grin turned devious, eyes glowing with mischief. "I'll find Cassian, I'm sure he'd love to make you tired."

Asia felt her cheeks flare up in surprise, shock rooting her feet to the ground. Despite this, she scoffed, scrunching her nose up in impulsive disgust. "Of him, you mean."

"Your face shows a different story, Asiaaaa..."

"Oh shut up."

Echo laughed again, turning on a heel, shoes in her hands rather than on her feet [where they really should be in Asia's opinion], "Yeah? Make me." Her tone was mocking, but lighthearted as she waved to her, "Night!"

Asia scoffed again, but leaned against the door as she watched Echo dart off into the dark night, turning only briefly to yell across the beach, words that reverberated across the island, shouting into the sky. "Love you!"

Asia didn't call it back, but that soft, warm smile came up on her face again, watching Echo disappear into the trails of the forest that would inevitably lead to her own home, and to the dark, to the night, she murmured the words back. An echo.

"Love you too."

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

ophelia !!

sixth chapter done !

i hope you all enjoyed it !

i hope school is going super well for
you all!! (still) , and i'm always happy
to hear life updates from you all

also , it'd mean the world
to me if you could go and check
out my new applyfic !!
it won't make it's real debut
until thanksgiving really , but I'd still
appreciate the glance , or promotion <3

please don't forget to finish the opinions and love interests of your characters !!

and as for the question for today !

[ what is your character's favorite kind of dessert [specifically] , favorite food ? do they have a reason why it's their favorite ? ]

answers ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥