── 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗱𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆 ──

Emelia Hargreeves staggered down the carpeted stairs of her house, stumbling right into the kitchen that hadn't been scrubbed down in a few days ─ clear by the enormous stack of dishes in the sink. She groaned, careful of not moving too swiftly in fear of spewing her guts up all over the counter, her golden brown hair was practically a giant knot atop of her head and her body was clad in tinkerbell pyjamas. A hot flush brushed the surface of her skin and Emelia threw her head back, huffing out a frustrated breath.

The girl wiped a hand down her soft blushed face, wincing as one of her many rings adorning her fingers caught a scratch upon her cheek. Flicking on the coffee pot, Emelia snapped her eyes shut tightly, indulging in the sound of the wiring and trickling that told her the mug was filling quickly.

Her lips pulled into a soft, satisfied smile as Emelia gently threw herself back onto her crème settee and body aching and groaning in agony, she leant back into the cushions, sinking into the softness.

Contentedly sipping at the steaming beverage that had flashes of home appear in Emelia's mind, she allowed herself to dance freely amongst her thoughts with no restraint. Her fingers rhythmically tapped against her ceramic mug, pretty pink blossoms painted upon the side and her dark, chipped nail polish stood out against the pristine glaze. Emelia wore a myriad of rings, bands of different thicknesses, designs and gemstones amongst all of her fingers, a majority of them had been gifted to her by her mischievous twin when the two were younger and had a flair for the art of shoplifting. The clean, sharp sound of them hitting the mug made her smile somewhat sadly as memories burst to life before her closed eyes.

The sound of her smartphone sending her an alert startled her, sighing, she took the bare phone in her hands and as her fingers dusted the broken screen to type in her passcode, they caught on ruptured glass ─ as always.

hey darling, great time as always last night, on my way over xx

Emelia downed the dregs of her coffee, throwing the liquid to the back of her throat as though she'd taken a shot and exhaled shakily. She pressed a cold hand to her damp forehead, tired eyelids closing around fuchsia irises in a weak attempt to soothe the headache throbbing at her temples. Finally, her fingers danced across the screen ─ typing out a reluctant reply.

see you soon xx

Tossing her mobile onto the settee where it bounced a few times against the soft cushions, Emelia forced herself to her bare feet with an unrestrained moan of pain and toddled back into the kitchen ─ empty mug in hand. She placed it on the counter with a dull thud and cursed under her breath, she'd just had the last of the coffee and that was practically all Madeline would drink. There wasn't time for Emelia to take a quick trip to the shops ─ and to be quite honest, she couldn't be arsed with the worst hangover of the century looming over her and her bird's nest of hair.

A wave of frustration washed over Emelia and she clenched her jaw ─ the headache increasing tenfold ─ and slammed her fist onto her counter, right beside her mug. The counter splintered against the force of the knife Emelia had accidentally summoned and it, along with its bright glow glistened, handle deep in the wood. Inhaling a deep breath through her nose, she took the glimmering handle in her hand and within seconds, the dagger dissolved back into her fingers.

A pair of arms snaked around her waist and in the beginning, she would've jumped and possibly tried to maim whomever handled her but she recognised the soft touches of Madeline and the deliberate light squeeze of her embrace.

"Rough morning my love," asked Madeline, not really expecting an answer and pressing a light kiss to Emelia's cheek in greeting ─ whose heart fluttered in her chest at the affection. Yet, she chose not to reply, gently untangling herself from Madeline's warm arms and dove face-first into her settee's cushions.

"Hmm," she answered after a moment, "we have no coffee."

Without a care, Madeline whipped open Emelia's curtains, sunlight flooding into her living room, dust particles dancing in patterns in the new light whilst Emelia herself buried her head further into darkness.

The blonde smacked Emelia's legs with the body of her canvas bag, telling her to make space but she simply lifted her legs only to drop them back down onto her friend's lap after she took her seat.

"We have no coffee," repeated Emelia, rolling over so she could breathe.

Madeline hit her with a pointed look, "I heard you and I brought some anyway but you're hungover and you need water."

Choosing to ignore the mothering tone of her friend, Emelia allowed her fingers to gently poke and prod at the bruises on her exposed stomach and legs. "You brought some?" She asked, referencing the coffee.

"Mmm," Madeline hummed, "you cried when you told me you'd almost run out last night."

Emelia squeezed Madeline's hand in thanks.

"You got those protecting me."

"Did I?" Emelia laughed, "good."

Tapping Emelia's legs so she'd sit up properly, Madeline reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of water with the label only half stuck on. Closing her oceanic eyes and wrapping both hands around the body and neck of the bottle, she exhaled and the plastic frosted up, snowflakes materialising inside. She tossed it to Emelia who immediately uncapped it and gulped down the icy liquid.

"You're getting better," commented Emelia, wiping a hand across her mouth.

Simply humming again Madeline blushed lightly and changed the subject. "Three guys tried to grab me when you went to get more drinks and when I said no, a few more came over." She gulped at the possibilities, "I froze and you fought them all, thank you Em."

Emelia shrugged with half a smile upon her face, cheeks crimson both with embarrassment at the praise and the memory fragments that suddenly flitted back into her mind. She could remember the cheers from around the bar as her ring-adorned fingers formed into a fist and tore the skin from one of the men's faces. She could still feel his nose breaking in her hands and the feeling of pride that came with it.

"I remember," said Emelia, taking another mouthful of water and swilling it around her mouth.

After that, a comfortable silence settled over the atmosphere, Madeline had pulled a book from her bag and from the water-coloured cover, Emelia recognised it as Dracula. As Madeline flicked to the baby pink bookmark between the pages of her chapter, her hand reached up to the neat row of braids along her scalp and fingered the texture of the bun in which her hair had been compiled. Emelia felt an involuntary smile creep onto her face.

Emelia thoroughly enjoyed alcohol, the way it allowed her to set herself free from any worries or inhibitions that were tying her down as they often did in the autumn. Autumn, when it's time for the trees to shed their leaves and the animals to hibernate for the winter, was often considered the most beautiful season but Emelia felt dread creep upon her whenever it was near. The season in which she lost contact with her brother, her twin. There wasn't a day that went by when Emelia didn't think of him, but the first few days of autumn were difficult, memories went flooding back to her and sometimes, the dam would break. His dark hair, narrowed eyes and sarcastic tone, she missed every single thing about him, of course she felt a pit in her stomach about the loss of communication with her other siblings but the twins were different. It was as though he'd taken part of her with him and she wouldn't be whole again.

Interrupting her internal monologue, Madeline gave an exaggerated sigh and tossed her book onto the nearby coffee table with a soft thud. Emelia raised an eyebrow and her lips curved into a one-sided smirk, "you okay Mads?"

"It's so boring," Madeline moaned, tossing her head back, "I've read this chapter about five times and I still have no idea what's happening."

"It is a pretty boring book."

"You recommended it to me!"

"I couldn't suffer alone," laughed Emelia who pushed off of the couch and stood rather unsteadily. "I'm getting dressed."

Madeline pretended she was angry and turned away, grabbing the tv controller and putting on her favourite thing; Friends reruns. Swooping down and pressing a kiss to Madeline's cheek, Emelia caused the hidden smile on her face to erupt.

The vanity mirror was filthy but even through the toothpaste marked glass, Emelia was surprised to say she wasn't in as bad a state as she thought. A little bruised and marked but overall, fine. Emelia twisted the hot tap and grabbed the soap, washing her face, ridding herself of any dreariness and dried herself with a chequered towel. Whilst sorting through her wardrobe, she brushed her teeth and took a brush through her hair, allowing her golden brown locks to fall down her back. Just as Emelia was about to pull the dress she had chosen over her head, she heard Madeline call her.

"Emelia!!" She called again, her voice wavered and Emelia knew something was wrong.

Dress clutched tightly in her fist, she made her way downstairs and swallowed hard, "what is it?"

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, and as Madeline pressed play on her tv, she noticed the deep red banner with the white, block words 'breaking news' flash across the screen.

A news reporter, male and in his mid forties began to speak, slowly and concisely. "We're going now to a live breaking story, only moments ago police reported the death of the most eccentric and reclusive billionaire; Sir Reginald Hargreeves."

After that, everything turned to static. White noise, everywhere ─ she could clearly see the reporter's lips moving but all the sound from the world was drowned out by the thudding rush of her blood pumping in her ears. She sucked in a broken breath, gasping as though her ribs had been drawn too close around her lungs and heart, the world seemed to rotate around her, spinning faster and faster until she could hardly keep up.

"Em?"

But she could hear Madeline, clear as a bell, the worry and desperation in her voice brought her back and the spinning room slowed to a halt. Emelia just managed to throw herself down onto the floor and vomit straight into her bin, she retched and coughed, tears filling her eyes with her breathing finally coming back to her.

"I;ve waited so long for this," she uttered softly. "Why am I sad? I hated him, I've been counting down the days until he died and now it's happened I'm crying!"

Shushing her kindly as one would a child, Madeline sat down next to Emelia and pulled her into her own frame. One arm wrapped around her shoulders and the other cradled her head as she pressed light kisses to Emelia's hairline.

"It's okay Emelia, you hated him but he was a big part of your life for so long." She paused, "will you miss him?"

She frantically shook her head, "no."

Madeline simply nodded her head softly, "you're allowed to have your reaction."

"I need ─ I need to go," Emelia mumbled. Breaking out of Madeline's hold, Emelia rushed up and pulled on her nearest pair of shoes, a pair of black and white sneakers that were dotted with blood from the previous night. She pulled them on on the wrong feet but she didn't have it in her to care, her fingers swiped Madeline's car keys from the coffee table and she stumbled her way out of the door.

Madeline jumped up after a moment of initial shock and chased her friend out of the house to see Emelia fumbling with the keys, she thrust her palm out and ice materialised up Emelia's bare leg, almost like a sock but it wouldn't stop her. She wasn't strong enough yet.

"Maddy, please," begged Emelia, "I need to see them."

"Let me drive you," Madeline bargained, "I don't trust you when you're this emotional." Her hands were held up with wide-spread fingers in front of her as though she were gaining the trust of an injured animal.

Eyelids encased fuchsia eyes as Emelia took a deep breath in, chest constricting tightly, "please, I need to go alone."

Madeline was in front of Emelia now and gently, slowly so that she had time to pull away, she brought the other girl into a tight embrace, "that's okay. Just let me drive you and then I'll leave." She paused. "I promise."

Wordlessly, Emelia nodded her head and with a sniffle, she handed Madeline the keys to her car before shuffling to the passenger seat. Unlike Emelia, Madeline drove safely, waiting by the red lights and keeping to only slightly over the speed limit, ensuring that the two women arrived at their destination in one piece, more or less.

The journey was a surprisingly short one despite how lengthy it felt in the car and as promised, Madeline left her friend alone no matter how weary of the action she was and she couldn't help but wonder if she had made the correct decision.

Her childhood home was just as Emelia remembered. A wrought iron fence surrounded the entire place, it had been painted black once, when she was only a new-born and it was evident by the slightly off putting way it appeared to the eye and the way paint chipped away and clung to her fingers as she pushed the gate open that it hadn't been touched up in a long while.

As it had always been, the garden was large, unkempt and entirely unwelcoming. Leaves littered the ground in large piles of both dead and fresh buds until Emelia could no longer see the smooth cement, the hedges were uneven and had begun to grow in a multitude of angles. The blossom tree that had once been the focal point of the garden had been somewhat uprooted and leant at an angle that surely couldn't have been healthy for it, she cringed at the destruction of the garden that had the potential to be so beautiful.

In the centre of the yard stood a large, bronze statue of a young boy, hardly sixteen years old, the Hargreeves brother who'd suffered an unimaginable fate on a mission for their fathers dream team of superheroes. Every time Emelia caught sight of that statue she was reminded by how much she loved and missed her gentle brother, but if she looked for too long, his face would transform into her fathers, blaming her for his untimely death.

The frowning girl felt bile rise up in her throat and with an audible gulp, forced it back down her gullet, she refused to be sick despite the fact the thought of her father often brought on that feeling. Reginald Hargreeves was an abusive, barbaric and cynical old man more content with playing the assembler of superheroes than that of a father, Emelia despised the very thought of him and had assumed that shedding tears over the man was an act long forgotten. Apparently not.

Deciding that she should stop stalling, Emelia rapped on the door gently and it was answered right away by a chimp. His fur was both greying and thinning, he wore a pair of spectacles on the bridge of his flattened nose and a velvet, burgundy suit with a thick walking stick.

"Pogo," greeted Emelia, the trace of a smile upturning her lips.

"Mistress Emelia, it's good to see your face."

───────────────