➸ 𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 the youngest sister
of four has to fall into the deepest
pit of hell to reach heaven.
（ azriel x fem!oc ）
↳ slowburn!
𝗝𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗝𝗲𝘄𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝗱𝘂𝗲𝘁 - 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑜𝑛𝑒
[acotar - acosf]
-› ᴄᴇ...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-ˏˋ𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬ˊˎ 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
IT HAD BEEN ALMOST a year since that night at the cottage. Many things had changed in through that time. For one, the Archerons now lived in a manor, thriving in their newfound riches. It enabled Ana to focus on her education and her new hobbies. She wanted to achieve something and she had a newfound dream. Her future didn't include marriage or rich husbands.
At first the sisters had a hard time adjusting, but they eventually got used to the prim and proper people surrounding them. Elain had her friends back, Nesta was back to socializing—barely—and reading every book that she got her hands on, and Ana spent her time going on small adventures with Cian—the only time she could do whatever she wanted.
It was one of these afternoons, Ana had to spend on her own. Cian was busy with work, and Elain and Nesta were out. She could've joined her sisters, but the thought of sitting around women, who thought that their only purpose in life was to marry, was repulsive enough for Ana to want to stay behind. Though usually, she would have accompanied them, but her monthly circle was giving her bad cramps and she couldn't eat anything without feeling nauseous.
Her circle had always been bad since she first started bleeding, so Elain and Nesta made her stay back.
So, that was how she found herself taking a stroll around the estate, her journal clutched in her right hand. Ever since they got their fortune back, Ana had started to write journals—diaries. Sometimes she just wrote down her thoughts on a topic that came up in her lessons with Mrs. O'Cleary, or she wrote about her day, or she noted down newfound information. It didn't matter about what she wrote, Ana just found joy in writing.
She loved the feeling of having a pen between her fingers, and the sound of choal on paper, even the stains of ink on her hands and sleeves. It was odd, but gave her peace—permission to calm down.
