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To believe it was a dream would’ve been a sweeter outcome, in hindsight. Lenore perhaps would’ve gained lucidity and morphed the reality her brain conjured to be aligned with her true desires in a more indulgent matter. But alas, such comfort wasn’t something Nevermore provided, it seemed as though the school itself was hexed to never allow peace among its inhabitants. It always seemed like nightfall painted the sky in Nevermore, Lenore realized. Scarcely could you say the sun was hot or even uncovered by clouds, she wondered if the colder weather was the underworld’s default temperature. A sigh escaped her lips as Annabel enveloped her waist within her freezing arms and leaned back towards the minimal, vibrant heat emanating from Annabel’s empty chest cavity. A lover with so much passion and intense emotion; the manifestation of her death a pure irony—to have died of betrayal by one she adored the most. Lenore couldn’t help but wonder if she herself had carved that heart shaped hole in Annabel Lee’s chest.
Then again, Annabel wasn't someone so easily fooled. Lenore would go as far as saying she's even harder to kill. So for someone such as herself to get close enough to not only be near Annabel (Much like they are now.) and to also kill her, seems as unreachable as the both of them leaving Nevermore unscathed. “Lenore.." the tintinnabulation of her wispy voice soothed yet flared something inside Lenore. It made her cheeks redden and burn but her lips were chapped with dehydration.
Annabel was cunning as she was beautiful, her intellect was pure focus and resourcefulness. But around Lenore, she was emotional and a mess, a cacophony in her mind muddled by the sheer devotion she held for Lenore. It was nothing short of an obsession and Lenore had come to realize this. Which is why she couldn't allow Annabel another misdeed in their favor. Of course, Annabel knew her scheme had been exposed and countered.
Her solution had been to distract Lenore from it, which unfortunately for her, was no longer effective.
“Annabel Lee, I know what you've done.” At that, the blonde recoiled momentarily.
“Whatever do you mean, pet?" a soft, fake giggle erupted from her throat, a panicked and instinctual reaction. Lenore knew.
Lenore, as gently as her rage allowed, pried Annabel's arms off of her. The tears already beginning to well up in her eyes, whether it was the action or the reaction that caused it, wasn't clear. Annabel's eyes widened in understanding even though her hands fought to stay in contact with Lenore, firm in their goal but harmless towards Lenore.
“Guess there is no point in denying it any longer.” Yet Annabel had no intention in explaining herself, revealing her cards or even apologizing. She'd done what she could and currently there wasn't a thing she could do to make amends except wait out Lenore’s reaction. But Lenore was already used to Annabel collecting data through reactions and words, so she'd settle for simply staring at the ghastly woman before her. Gorgeous in her white dress with a red glow spilling from her chest. It beat like a heart would, but Annabel Lee's heart didn't beat.
Her Spectre faded back to her uniform as Lenore turned to lean against the railing with her arms folded inside one another. The audacity of Annabel Lee to wrap one arm in the space between Lenore's torso and arm. The weakness in Lenore for letting her. Her own doom sealed by resting her head against Annabel’s, both overlooking the sunset as their hearts synced with the uncertainty of what they had. Lenore no longer having faith in Annabel's trust for her, and Annabel no longer having hope that her Lenore hadn't let death do them part. A single tear fell from Annabel Lee’s eye. She refused to back down now, she'd find another way to get her Lenore back. Annabel Lee didn't have a beating heart, but it bled. It bled red and passionate for Lenore, a minor setback wouldn't deter her from getting her lover once more. If this Lenore wasn't the one that had died with her, went through hell with her, then she'd get blood under her nails digging for her.
Sun sets in Nevermore were phenomenal, despite everything. There was something surreal about the underworld having changing days, always cold but with a sun and moon regardless. “When I meet my end, I would love to have a beautiful demise as such." Annabel muttered while her hand gestured vaguely towards the sun, just for the two of them to hear. There wasn't anyone around but that didn't make it any less intimate to hear. It didn't make it any less painful to hear, either.
She'd said it as a fact, as undeniable. While death does come for everyone eventually, even in the afterlife, Annabel spoke like it was soon. It felt like a goodbye of sorts. Lenore lifted her head and turned to look at Annabel, the latter kept her gaze towards the horizon. “I'd prefer it if you didn't die at all.”
Annabel chuckled at that. Genuine in its amusement for Lenore's words. What an irony to utter them now so unashamed. Had Lenore forgotten what she'd done? Or does she love Annabel despite it? To have her old Lenore back was impossible, Annabel accepted. However this Lenore had a newfound, careful almost paranoid emotion for Annabel it was endearing in its own right. Yet frustrating, as it created bridges that Lenore kept over flames that would only grow if Annabel crossed it. A cruel woman she was, but that's exactly how Annabel loved her. Intense in all she does, loving at the heart of it all.
Annabel hadn't realized she was crying, flinching at the feel of a thumb swiping away a tear. Lenore had returned her gaze towards the sky, her head held high but her arm tightened around Annabel's and her hand cupped the blonde’s cheek.
The moon had risen by then, and the bell struck its first warning. Annabel would steal this moment just long enough for the second warning to strike.