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Lenore remembered a time not so long ago when it was only her and Annabel, and they were free to be who they were. But that time had passed, and now they were doomed to either both die or live without the other. She wasn't sure which was worse, living knowing that Annabel wouldn't be able to live alongside her, or dying knowing that she would never see Annabel again.
Lenore woke up, her mind racing as Annabel's fingers ghosted across her hair, her face feeling like it was plastered to her desk. "Waking up so soon, Pet?" Annabel smiled, and Lenore wasn't too sure whether it was a real smile or just one she had reserved for her allies, as she called them. She could feel something pricking against her legs underneath her desk. Her body moved–as though it were a puppet–and she pulled out a bouquet of red, blue and white daisies, handing them to Annabel, whose fingers were currently threading through her hair.
Lenore grinned. "Happy Valentine's Day, Annabel Lee. Would you do me the honour of being my Valentine?"
Annabel raised the side of her finger to her lips in an endearing gesture. "Of course, Pet, I would love to. But I must ask, why so many different daisies?"
"I'm glad you asked," Her grin widened. "Red daisies symbolise passion and romance, white daisies symbolise purity, and last but not least, blue daisies mean trust, loyalty and honesty."
She felt like a marionette; every action she made was for somebody else's entertainment. Annabel hugged her, unaware of everybody else in the room. Lenore tried to look around, but even without looking she could tell that nobody else cared. Gone were the clandestine meetings and unnoticed glances, gone was the pretending, gone was the faked hatred. They were finally free.
She felt a shove against her arm and she opened her eyes–but no, they were already open–weren't they?
"Are you alright, mon amie?" Duke's voice rang out in her ears as she wiped at her face–she could move again–trying to get rid of that sinking feeling in her chest. Her palms were clammy, a stark contrast against her cold face.
"What?"
Oh.
Lenore's eyes burned with tears, and she had to fight to keep them from falling. It was just a dream, she reminded herself. It was just a dream.
She looked to her left, trying to see what had shoved her arm, desperately hoping that nobody could see the way that her eyes glassed over with tears.
Duke frowned, an unusually sombre look set on his face, as his eyes roved over her significantly-whiter face. Though that didn't last long, as he soon cracked a joke in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood. "You look like you've seen a ghost," He laughed, an awkward smile on his lips.
"Yeah," she agreed. "Yeah, I suppose I have–just not the completely-dead kind." She let out a teary chuckle, too tired and too hurt to stop the tears from flowing.
Lenore wondered if, in another world, that dream was true. If in another world, they were both happy and alive. If it was, she reckoned, God was cruel to have let her glimpse that world.