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She'd read that letter over and over, more times than she could count,
Her mother was dead, and her father was writing about all of it with such chilling calmness, a coldness that made Marina question everything.
Could it be that the bastard had become even more degenerate?
No matter how Marina put it, she had to go back to Prehevil to see for herself. She sighed; the thought of going back didn't particularly overjoy her. Rather, she feared the memories of the place coming back, the horrors she had to bear, but thinking about her mother, the one who sheltered and saved her from a life of misery, gave her enough strength to get this over with.
So there she was, at the train station, waiting for the train back home. Perhaps, she got there hours before it was supposed to leave. She was indeed nervous, but that was mixed with her usual luck, which was also mixed with her struggles with time management,
"Fuck it," she let out. No point sitting on an empty bench for three hours; she could get something for herself before going back to her old reality,
Oh, she could absolutely get a cappuccino and a brioche to ease her worries. The idea already sounded tasty in Marina's mind,
Chirping, she got up and walked toward a nearby café. Usually, the train station had the best ones since they had to attract as many tourists as humanly possible—she would also hang out with her classmates there.
She quickly went into the café. Luckily, there weren't many people, so she wouldn't have to wait long. She walked toward the counter and asked for what she wanted. The barista smiled at her, winking and moving his hands fast to make her order,
He really was eye candy. Too bad she couldn't have stayed to coax some other delicacies from him.
"Here," he handed her the drink, then the brioche, and as Marina was about to pay, he quickly raised his hands. "Nah, it's on me," he chuckled, "I insist. Please."
"My," she fluttered her lashes at him, "thank you," her voice softened, a whispered tone as she walked away from him, waving her hand. A free drink and food were enough to boost her spirits.
She probably wasn't exactly sure where she was going or which tables were free, since she was still busy cooing at him. She pulled a chair out from a nearby table and sat down, but she didn't really look in front of her, because there was already someone sitting at the table: a girl,
Marina gasped, "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" and the girl went a little paler than she already was "—I can leave."
"No, no, no, no" she sped her words into a mumbling mess. "You can," her cheeks flared rosy, "stay, stay."
"Well then," her reply came easier, slower, and definitely not as caring as hers. Still, it was pretty thoughtful of her to offer a seat, since she really didn't want to keep fake flirting with the barista.
She took a bite of her brioche, then ripped open a sugar packet for her cappuccino as she studied the girl before her,
Long, dark, straight black hair that had a curious cut that made one of her ears visible while the other was hidden. She looked sick, her visage drained of life, her jawline precise.
To be fair, she wasn't that bad. And her gothic, old–fashioned looks gave her her own vibe. Marina pondered that thought, and quite curiously, the stranger's cheeks appeared to have become even more flushed.
Could it be because none of them were talking?
"So, you're from here?" Marina carefully placed the brioche on the plate as she poured the sugar into the cappuccino, stirring it with a little spoon. "From Vatican City, I mean."
And the mysterious girl suddenly looked away. 'Should I have just kept my mouth shut?' Marina thought to herself, 'She seems so tense.'
"Ye–Ye–Yes," she mouthed, "I am from... from here."
"Really?" Marina raised one of her brows. "What do you do?"
The girl lowered her head even more than before. "Study," her tone unsure. "Occult. Gods."
"Is that so?" That was a surprise. "Do you perhaps... study at the Ministry of Darkness?"
Her head snapped back up, eyes meeting, but not for long, as she went to avert her gaze once more,
'Did I share classes with this girl?' The question popped into Marina's mind like a flash. 'I've never seen her.'
"We've never—," but the girl stopped herself from speaking any further; she seemed to have bitten her tongue. "I do, sort of, study."
"What do you, sort of, study specifically?" Marina replied playfully as a smile grew on her lips. She had never met someone so shy, so avoidant, as if it were the first time speaking to another human being,
"I—, um, Ninth," her voice barely audible, not even a sound, "Circle," she said a bit louder.
"Circles?" Marina repeated, hoping she had heard correctly and avoided mortifying her. "Did you just start? Man, ritual circles are hard to get right the first time... I remember constantly looking at the book, then my chalk, then my hand, wondering if I got it right."
The girl went quiet for a while. Marina hoped that she hadn't embarrassed her. She had to make sure of that,
"But, yeah, aside from the struggle, once you get the hang of it, it becomes fun," she said, still smiling, "I study there too, if you didn't catch that."
"I know," she stated, "that you study there."
"Yeah," Marina carefully said as she took the drink in her hands, sipping it. "So," she put the drink on the table, "What's your name?"
Again, she looked as if she was about to pass out. "I—don't you, have you—," she paused. "We met... I mean... I saw you through the hallways... at school... Don't you remember?"
"Well, you only saw me, but we didn't meet," Marina pointed out. "Now we have."
The poor thing couldn't even properly move her bangs out of her eyes to look at Marina. For a moment, she stood quietly, making Marina wonder if she had been too harsh, too assertive with her tone,
"Samarie," she said, her fingers clumsily adjusting a few strands of hair, "my name is Samarie."
"Marina," her eyes lingered on hers. "So, were you waiting for someone?"
"No," and Samarie tried her hardest not to avert her gaze, "I need to... take a train."
"So do I," the reply came cheerfully, "but it got delayed, sort of. Who knows when it'll actually come?"
Samarie remained still; not even her eyes moved, nor did her chest as she breathed. That made Marina question if she was even alive,
Alas, she understood that some people are reserved, and after all, she was still a stranger who had intruded upon someone's affairs.
"Mmm," Marina took another sip of her cappuccino, but this time, the foam settled under her nose, "So, yeah, I hope—"
"You have," the girl spoke up, cutting her attempt at small talk short, "some–something under your nose."
"Darn it," she grabbed a tissue from the box on the table. Her fingers moved as she attempted to wipe it away, asking, "Now?" to which Samarie gave no response, so Marina tried again, looking at Samarie to see if she got it. Still nothing from her,
"It's," Samarie was now moving, pointing to her face where Marina had the foam, "um, there," as she watched her follow her orders.
Marina smiled at her. "Thank you," she said softly.
"No–No, don't, it's not worth thanking me," but Marina pouted, her brows meeting as if to say that what she had just said made no sense. Samarie bit her inner cheek hard, the skin almost peeling off.
"Don't say that; I would've never realized and would've gone about my day with foam under my nose."
And then Marina chuckled, and the way Samarie was now looking at her—so shy yet curious, so scared yet wanting—made her suddenly feel very aware of the moment.
"Say," she again took the lead in the conversation, "if you've got some time to kill, why don't we go hang out for a while?"
"Me and... you... hanging out?"
"You and me, yeah, that is if there's a third person you are hiding," and for the first time, she saw her lips twitch upwards. Was that her smile? Well, she definitely had to do some work on it.
"Okay..."
Marina stood up from her seat, "Great. Let's go."
And she followed her obediently.
—ৎ۶
The two girls walked slowly but steadily. Marina was too busy looking at various shop windows, while Samarie, well, she definitely was too busy trying to control her own heart and thoughts, hoping she wasn't sweating or smelly, or worse, did her hair look bad? Her makeup was all wrong, and so were her clothes, and so,
"I really like your style, Samarie," Marina said, eyeing her. "I always wanted to try it, but, ugh, my skin tone and hair and," body, that's what Marina thought. She paused briefly, only to continue, "Never mind. It's just so hard to even find clothes."
To be fair, she didn't even know the name of her style, if that even was her style. At the Ninth Circle, children would usually get one uniform per year: shirts and overlays, socks, and sometimes shoes. Samarie had tons of those. Only for her 18th birthday had she managed to buy something different from usual (a black dress, nothing too fancy, also pretty used up, that resembled overlays),
Makeup had entered her life casually. One time, she was eating in her room, exhausted from a ritual, crying and messy. A girl her age had walked in, holding something in her hands. "It's a lipstick!" she had told Samarie so enthusiastically. "A madam dropped it from her purse and I snatched it right away," she had stolen it, "Samarie, we have to try it!"
So, they did try. The first attempt was horrible, so was the second, the third, but the fourth? Well, they had made progress.
"It's not," but Samarie stopped for a second, Marina looking at her with curious eyes, "I–I just put on the first things I see in the morning," which was, sadly, pathetically true.
"Well, you have a good eye then," she replied quickly and so sure of her words. "Give yourself some credit."
Samarie tried to keep her thoughts at bay, as her lips twisted upwards slightly. "Okay."
And Marina's smile grew a bit. That was cute, a little awkward, but cute. "So," oh, Samarie's cheeks had gotten red again, "Wanna go in this shop? I wanna try on some clothes before I go."
"Of, of course," her eyes widened as Marina's face brightened.
They both walked inside the store. It had only been a week since it had opened, and Marina always wanted to go and see for herself since everybody at school couldn't stop talking about the fabrics, the quality, and so on,
"Good evening," a clerk magically appeared. "The new collection is upstairs, if you're interested in trying it out," she smiled at the end.
Marina nodded, "Yes, thank you," and she began walking toward the stairs, Samarie followed.
—ৎ۶
It was true, the collection was simply divine. Fabrics were of the finest material, and clothes had cute, peculiar designs. Had Marina been richer, she would've bought every little thing there,
She marched toward a long, slightly tight dress. Taking it in her hand, she examined it, then turned around to face Samarie, "Should I try it?" her voice almost breaking from excitement.
"Yes," the answer came sooner than Marina thought. Perhaps she was enjoying the hang out?
"Come on then," Marina linked her arm with Samarie's. "Let's find the dressing rooms together," she said, dragging Samarie along. Their bodies pressed together. Only now had Marina realized how tall she truly was, how skinny her body was—frail.
And, was the sound she kept on hearing her heartbeat? Marina looked up, and Samarie's cheeks had completely gone red. Her gaze seemed frozen, fixed only on what was in front of her, and her forehead was sweaty, with strands of her hair stuck to her skin,
Maybe it was a bit too much touching for her.
Once they got to the dressing rooms, Marina let go of her arm as she held the dress more firmly. "I'll go and try it on!"
Samarie could only nod.
"Sit here, I won't take long," then she disappeared.
If it were even possible for a brain to be as fried as Samarie's, she didn't know what to do or think. She could try to breathe, but the air never seemed to be enough. She could try to get the hang of it, but how could she even do that?
So, she stood quietly, biting her lips. She was going to wait, yes, and stop thinking, maybe.
—ৎ۶
Marina just didn't understand Samarie. Her flushed face, her low voice, those avoidant eyes. Why was she acting like that? Like... she had a crush on her?
Wait, no, that wasn't even it. They had just met! Then, Marina remembered Samarie saying she had seen her in the hallways. Maybe she, oh, maybe she did have a crush,
A hallway crush?
Still, it couldn't be; if Samarie knew the truth, she definitely wouldn't have this infatuation of hers.
But who cares, anyway? It's not like they would ever see each other again. It was just one hangout with a stranger, waiting for a train together. Soon, they would part ways and likely never see each other again,
Never.
Marina sighed as she tried to zip the dress, but she struggled with the back zipper. Fuck, she had to ask for help—for Samarie.
Hesitantly, she peeked her face out of the curtains and saw Samarie, her head low and in the same position Marina had left her. Okay, to be honest, she was very cute and doglike,
Marina bit her lower lip. "Errr, Samarie?" The girl jolted her head up, just like a dog, truly. No, stop! Marina shook her head. "Can you help me with the dress? I can't reach the zipper."
And she immediately stood up, her legs wobbly, cheeks rosy, as her steps were quick. Oh Gods, how could she have been so blind? This girl was textbook crushing on her,
"What do I need to do?" Even her voice was shaking; it was way too entertaining to see. Could Marina have teased her a little bit more?
Marina smirked as she turned around. "I can't zip the dress from my back," she said, moving a little further into the dressing room, making the curtains completely close. Now, both she and Samarie were inside, undisturbed. "Can you zip it up?" she asked, holding her hair up, "please?"
The bare back of Marina exposed to Samarie's eyes, her soft skin, her moles, and her pinkish bra. Marina noticed Samarie audibly swallowing, clearly anxious about such a mundane task, "Samarie, are you still with us?"
"Yes, I–yes," words, finally. Then, her fingers worked around the zip; sometimes they touched her back, sometimes they tried their best not to,
Each time her fingertips touched her skin, Marina would sigh a little louder. A mere tease, of course, which seemed to be working, because Samarie's hands had gotten shakier.
Probably a bunch of minutes had passed because the zip was still where Marina had left it, and Samarie's hands were stuck on the same spot. Okay, what was going on?
Marina turned around to face Samarie, and to her surprise, the girl was sweating coldly, her eyes lower than ever, cheeks furiously red, and her hands trembled,
Now she did feel bad. "Samarie?" She had said her name calmly, "It's okay, really. If you can't, I'll try something else."
"No, I—," her eyes immediately met hers, then they widened, because, well, to put it candidly, Marina's shoulder could be seen, so her chest, so her bosom. "Ka!" Immediately, Samarie covered her eyes with her hands. "I didn't mean to look, I didn't mean to, I didn't mean—," her voice quickening each time, "—I'm sorry, please don't hate me, I'm sorry, I," a little sob came, "I'm disgusting, I am, I am."
Of course, two girls together could've been seen as... whatever Samarie had said. Had she known that even Marina hid something much like hers from her, she wouldn't have panicked that much,
She knew how the world worked, how much people hurt if you were different from the rest,
Love, identity, if different from the rest, from the norm, could make someone's life a living hell. Was her reaction from fear?
"Samarie," she breathed in as she gently took her hands, removing them from her eyes. "I don't mind," her hands were wet, probably from tears mixed with sweat. "We all have our own secrets,"
And Samarie tried to keep it in. Marina tightened her hold, "If you like women, it's okay. That doesn't mean you'll do bad things to every woman you're around, and I definitely don't think any of that stuff."
Because that's one of the many things they had said to her. A man who pretends to be female, a man doing so for attention, a man who is a danger to women, a man who had gone mad.
Marina's eyes had gotten watery, "So please, I don't mind. I don't know you well, but I know that you're not a bad person. You're not disgusting, you're just helping a lady in need!"
Samarie's sniffles quieted, and Marina breathed a sigh of relief. "Now," she continued as she turned around again, "try again."
This time, the zip actually went up. Marina got out of the dressing room, then Samarie. She got closer to the mirror that stood in front of her, twirling to see how the dress moved, how the fabric made her look,
"How do I look?" She turned to face Samarie, smiling as her eyes flickered to hers.
"Be–Beautiful," her blush spread to her ears and neck. "It suits you very well."
"Well, thank you, Samarie," she looked back at the mirror, "once I'm back in town, I'll come and get it."
Which sadly meant she had to pray to every Gods available in order for no one to snatch the dress away from her,
"Which reminds me, I need to get back to the train station!" Cursing her time management inabilities, she added, "Wait up, Samarie! I'll get changed!"
And Samarie didn't dare to move.
—ৎ۶
Thankfully, they had managed to arrive just a few minutes earlier than the train's departure. Sure, Marina's breathing was a mess from how much she had run, but Samarie seemed to hold up just fine,
"Thank you for walking me to the train station!" She gasped for air. "When will your train arrive? Mine should be here in five minutes."
"Um, half an hour or so," she answered with a dubious undertone. "I have to wait a bit more..."
"Ugh! I'm sorry to leave you alone."
"It–It's fine, I," her shoulders tensed up as she clumsily fidgeted with her fingers. "I had fun with you. I, um, thanks."
Marina grinned, "I also had fun, though it's a shame I couldn't buy the dress." Samarie seemed to be smiling at that, "We should go again, together, next time."
Her dark eyes suddenly lit up. "You want to hang out together?"
"Yes," she confirmed, "and, hey, when I get back, why don't we hang out in the cafeteria? I'm always there, really, and I don't mind your company."
No, Samarie would never have entered the school grounds again. She had escaped the Ninth Circle; she was a fugitive, and if spotted, something would have happened to her, or worse. But still, still,
"Yes," still, that didn't matter, as for Samarie, fate had already taken a twisted turn. "When you and I get back, we will have a whole world for us."
Marina chuckled, "You're a weird one."
Suddenly, a chugging, bothersome sound could be heard. The train had arrived; Prehevil awaited her,
So, she turned to gaze at Samarie one more time, "Let's meet soon, yeah?"
"Yes," she replied as she watched Marina nod and walk toward the train.
She waited a few minutes, seeing Marina settle in her seat, her hand resting under her chin. Samarie gulped. "Soon," she whispered as she made her way onto the train, walking a few cabins away from Marina.