Requiem on Water [Book I]

Chapter 15

No matter how many plans you make or how much in control you are, life is always winging it.
― Carroll Bryant

Chapter 15

"Ashlyn," said Alice, as she looked into her candid emerald eyes, "may I ask you a question?" Alice realised that perhaps she was approaching Ashlyn from the wrong angle, that maybe she was doing what the Hunters did to the Immortales; treating them like they were fearsome, unremorseful monsters— she was treating Ashlyn as if she was a monster and not the young girl who she truly was; the girl who Alice somewhat admired to be. Showing fear was not going to get Alice anywhere, instead, she was going to have to treat Ashlyn like an equal, an individual with traits pertaining to some form of normalcy.

"Sure," she said, biting down on her pinkie nail.

"Why are you so— concerned over me?" asked Alice, choosing her words carefully.

"Are you not over me?" she retorted, as if slapped in the face.

Alice didn't understand, and the frustration was discernible on her furrowed forehead. Confusion was Alice's resisting force so as to not attack the fire girl and rip into her velvety flesh. Conversely, her fear of the monster, the darker parts that existed within Ashlyn also kept Alice at a safe distance. There was apparent evidence of lunacy, or some sort of mind interference, because Alice wasn't keeping up with the next new thing that popped up when it came to Ashlyn. Her mood was manic, her personality sporadic.

Anastasia entered the bathroom and cleared her throat while also scrutinising the girls.

"Oh."

Alice sunk deeper into the bubbles.

"I was just wondering if everything was alright?" she asked, her eyes gazing amongst the two girls warily, her tone of voice portraying a clear harmony of what she was actually wondering about. Still, both girls nodded in retort, even if Anastasia's hesitance did summersaults on her facade. She shifted her weight to her other leg and looked at Alice for a moment, making her feel self-conscious and intimidated.

"I was growing worried about Arthur," she said, still warily with the same weight of hesitance, "I might go check on him. Will you be alright—" she let it hang in the air. Again, both girls nodded, very suspiciously. "I'm sure you'll be safe," she said, giving Ashlyn an onceover.

"Yes, she will," retorted Alice confidently.

Anastasia looked at Alice and said, "I was talking about you," shooting her an emotionless look. She didn't appear to feel much of anything in Alice's opinion, but she had to give her credit for being able to feel much for anyone. She cared, even in her obnoxious, unapproachable manner. It was for Arthur who— the realisation of it all struck Alice like a lightning bolt; clear and painful. It was for Arthur, not anyone, just one; him. Anastasia didn't give two ticks about anyone other than herself and Arthur.

"We'll be here," Ashlyn said softly, nodding her head in reassurance.

Once Anastasia was out of earshot and Alice was dressed in a pair of comfortable pyjamas, they huddled together on the red satin bed, as if they were having some sort of slumber party. On the contrary, however, it wasn't a slumber party but Alice hoped that they will at least be spilling some secrets. There was no one there to interrupt them and Ashlyn seemed to be in her right mind; Alice couldn't let this opportunity slip through her fingers. Ashlyn was giddy and smiling, and Alice took this as her cue to instigate her plan. Instinctively, she decided that she was going to take the direct approach.