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l é g è r e m e n t Lightly.
Colette was lying on her bedroom floor, staring at the ceiling, taking deep breaths.
Inhale, exhale.
Letting out all of her worries. You could hear the raindrops clearly as they hit the windows, so loud it could easily be raining on the back of your head. Colette loved the rain and everything about it, but this specific storm didn't feel right.
She stood up, walking out if her room to sway through her home's hallways; it was quite a big house with several rooms to choose from. As it was just her and her dad in such a gigantic space, they had quite a lot of rooms to have a library, a study for each of them, and unique rooms that just had personal special interests to them. Luna, her cat, kept purring beside her, letting out a high-pitched 'meow' every once in a while that would echo through the dark hallways of the Merlaine residence.
The chandeliers dimmed the hallways, leaving Colette with abysmal lighting to walk with. The hazel-eyed lady went inside the library with a brisk walk, barefoot, drifting into the humid room with certain hope that she'd find something useful to do there. Usually, when it rained outside, she would feel great, happy and relaxed—sadly, this day was not one of those. The air was cold, so she hugged herself tightly, looking for warmth under her silk robe.
A mahogany based, velvet cushioned chair seemed to invite her to sit on her green-house library, that's what she called it at least. Glass windows surrounded the library, plants filling all the empty spaces in book cases, which were filled with rows and rows of books—all the ones you could imagine. The curtains there, were fully opened, which meant she could see everything that was going on outside. Colette liked that, specially the fact that there was a door that led to the terrace from the library.
"Let's get on to reading," she murmured, smiling comically at Luna as she purred around her feet.
Colette's hair was fully down, touching her lower back loosely. While Colette walked across the room to find a new book to read, all she could hear were the soft bangs of the trees against the windows. The lightning, followed by thunder, made Colette shudder with fear. Even so, she decided to stay there, heading towards the mahogany chair and getting comfortable in its cozy cushions.
The book she had decided upon was one the girl repeatedly read—infinitely. Le fantôme de l'opéra was a one story she could never resist. A mysterious man, falling in love with a woman who would never love him back, at least not in the same way. A story so tragic, yet fascinating to read. Every time she read it, Colette told herself she was glad to be French. Without her native tongue and that book, she wouldn't have been able to live many exciting lifetimes next to Christine Daaé.
Books meant everything for Colette. They were the one thing her mother had taught her to love, just as much as she should everything around her. Reading reminded her of Adele Papillon, she loved every book for giving her an unbreakable connection with her mother.
