princess

She sat Harley down at the end of her bed, excited grin on her face. “Are you ready?” Bluebell had carefully wrapped each present in the most stylish Christmas paper one could find in the store. 

@shushharley​

“...they obviously don’t know how much a piece like this costs. Or what it takes to get your hands on something like this. The third degree burns I probably have now because some dumba...” She hadn’t even noticed how awkwardly she was standing next to the boy. It was as if she’d been talking to him the whole time. But she hadn’t been. Eyes wide, she looked at him. “But it’s fine. I’ll just... try to get the stain out.”

@alexbrains​

.

She looked over at the other who was by far one of the more attractive serpents that slithered their way into the dollhouse. She still didn’t understand how all these people slotted into her Father’s narrative but slowly it became clear that he was a great puppet master and everyone in their lives served him some purpose. Vidal never let go of his dolls, even when he wanted to, even when he made it seem that he did… except for Emilio. He didn’t know how to hold onto her so she held onto him instead.

“I’ll talk about something else for you,” she speaks in a way that is probably quite unnerving, popping a cherry from her pot on the bar into her mouth. “Have you given up on getting back together with Ace?”

.

Before Bluebell had the time to consider what was happening, she had become one of Vidal’s pawns. Sure, it was in a different way than any of his children, but it had somehow happened. She was only in it for the money, but it seemed both of them knew how addictive the money would become. And suddenly she was in too deep, no escape in sight.

“I was never trying to get back together with Ace,” Blue said matter-of-factly. Partially a lie. She wasn’t at the moment, but if she got bored enough again maybe she’d want to take another bite. “At least, I don’t see it happening any time soon.”

Constantin breathed the crisp air of the frozen ground, face freezing as he ran his fingers across the pine needles. The scent of the Nordmann Fir enveloping him completely. There was something to be said about tree farms. Planting more trees than the ones they cut down while at the same time bringing a brighter experience to others. He remembers a time where dreams were all he had, and expectations a shadow in the future, wishing his family would take a day off to cut down their own tree. Instead every December Constantin would wake up to a full decorated house done in the early mornings by an interior designer. 

Now, as he looked ahead of him seeing acres and acres of trees with his own money to spend Constantin knew what he wanted to do. “What if…well, what if i bought it?” he asked them, turning his gaze towards them. “I know. I know it is crazy. Trust me. This would be a whole business in itself, but the owners have agreed to stay for a year to show me the ropes.” Pressing his fist against his chest, just knowing what he wanted. “But this is all i want.”

.

Bluebell was one who thrived in summer. It was a time of minimal clothing, sun-kissed skin, the most stylish sunnies, and relaxation. Winter was okay for fashion too, but she hated always looking like a marshmallow wrapped in layer after layer. At least she had the most up to date winter fashion of everyone she knew. Still, she shivered under her puffer jacket and rubbed her gloved hands together.

She looked out across the land as Constantin did, trying to picture what he might have been. Christmas was an okay time of year for her. She was always spoiled on the holiday of course, but that was about all there was to it for the Silvas. And ever since her and Neek had been on the outs with one another, it left a strange tension amongst siblings. It was truly hard to carry the weight of being the favorite child. Finally coming to from her own thoughts, Blue nodded. “I think you should do it if it’ll make you happy, Constantin. I could see you as a striking young business man.”

She stands at the bar, long painted fingernails clicking against a green glass bottle of champagne. It has been so long since their Father’s bludgeoning (see. murder) and so little had changed besides her siblings dropping in and off of the face of planet Earth. The revolving doors of the doll house affected her little but other things weighed heavy on her ever spinning mind. She chewed up and spat out ideas as she did people and left little remaining, a little flesh and bones spattered on the pavement to be trodden over and over until nothing remained. Nothing for anyone else. Only for her. 

“You can basically smell the blood in the air these days, everybody’s waiting for it to all unravel. But, it never will,” she proceeds, bottle uncorked as it spills into a champagne glass with a splash, dangerously filling to the edges. 

.

Bluebell had dug herself far too deep into the Athanas existence. She was not a sibling, but with her frequenting the house, reporters might think she was. The way she walked with arms linked with Belva all the time certainly set her up for this life, one she had not meant to get involved in. Blue loved the limelight, but not like this. She sighed, leaning against the bar, looking at Emilio, who always seemed just a little... Off.

“If we’re going to start talking murder and blood you’re going to need to pour me one of those.” She couldn’t imagine how all of them were not exhausted. At this point, she’d be okay with none of it unraveling. She could get back to normal.

.

Although there’s a look in Bluebell’s eyes that suggest she’s taking this seriously, the casual words almost cause a laugh to fall from the blonde’s painted lips. “Oh, you’d never guess what I just learned,” she laughs, except there’s nothing pleasant about the sound. It’s sharp, tinged with an anger that’s not an unfamiliar feeling, but one she’s always buried deep. Vidal had never allowed her to be anything other than agreeable, and of course he’d be the reason for her to step outside of the box, despite spending so long trying to keep her locked within it.

“Three years. She was sleeping with him for three years, Blue,” Belva replies, hands coming up near her face, movements jerky. She’s never been the best at explaining herself, and the anger and lack of sleep certainly isn’t helping. “Harley’s a traitor. A traitor with horrible taste.” 

.

The side of Belva that was coming through was unfamiliar to Bluebell. She was used to seeing her friend more put together. Even through her breakdowns, Belva always seemed like she had a certain base level that she didn’t break. Right now, it seemed like she was breaking. Bluebell wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her friend angry, and anger was what was currently coming through.

“Belv, I’m gonna need a little more info,” Bluebell replied, scrunching her eyebrows together in confusion. Why was Harley sleeping with someone such a big deal? “Who did she sleep with? Why is she a traitor, much less with horrible taste? I mean I always knew her taste was questionable, but to call it horrible is a little rough, isn’t it?”

.

Eyebrow quirking at the joke, laughing in surprise having not expected that. Life had become so serious he missed being starstruck but somebody, missed the excitement of meeting someone new. Life had become one murder mystery after another, it was time to focus on a more complex mystery. Love.

“Were you trying? Because you might of needed to add something more to have scared me off,” he teased in return. Sliding his hands into his pockets just to take them out once more, slightly nervous.

.

Bluebell didn’t often feel things for men other than sheer desire, to put it bluntly. She liked to have fun, but mostly with attractive men who were willing to give her the attention she wanted. Constantin fit the criteria perfectly.

“Oh so I need to try harder?” She smirked, half joking and half not. It was good to know that if she wanted out of this she had to try harder, but she also liked that he was flirting back at the moment. “Well maybe we should try another date and see if it’ll work next time.”

@bluebxll​

Rather unsurprisingly, Belva hadn’t slept the night before. After returning from the bar and a rather unexpected conversation with perhaps the only tolerable Van Santen, the blonde had kicked off her heels by the door and spent the rest of the early morning in a bit of a daze. There was still a part of her that couldn’t quite process what had happened, the photos that Chandler had presented and the way in which Harley had responded. I just…was there. Each time the words echo in her mind, she has to resist the urge to march into her father’s office and tear it to pieces. So instead, she texts Bluebell, and then she waits. 

She waits and she paces the quiet living room, her siblings either asleep upstairs or off doing whatever it was they got up to (hopefully nothing too sinister, too unsafe, although she doesn’t have the energy to care much in that moment). When she hears the front door open, she bounds over to it, long legs still clad in a tight pair of skinny jeans, dark red lipstick on her lips. “Blue,” she huffs out, face pinched as she is once more reminded of why she’d texted the woman.

.

Bluebell’s relationship with Belva may have been complicated, but she was still somehow always there when Belva called for help. Maybe it was fear of seeming like a bad friend, maybe she was just nosey, maybe she cared deep down, or maybe it was all of the above. She’d never know, because she’d never really think about it. When Belva texted, she was on her way within a few minutes without a question.

The familiar blonde came to the door with a look on her face that just said something was actually wrong this time. Not just another sad tale that hurt Belva’s feelings, but something was actually wrong. “What’s up, Belv?” Concern crossed through her eyes, but nowhere else on her face.

Florence was waiting to meet her mother for lunch, who was running late, as usual. She’d been so busy with work lately, she’d hardly seen her family. Being the boss wasn’t always fun when you were short staffed. Taking a detour to her favorite coffee shop, she stopped outside to check her texts just to ensure that, by some miracle, her mom hadn’t gotten to the restaurant before her. It was just down the street. She could sprint if she needed to.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She offered Bluebell an apologetic smile and moved a step to the left. “I didn’t even realize I was shadowing you.”

.

While Bluebell could be quite the ice queen, she was rarely that way for no good reason. She could put on a nice front when necessary, and she wouldn’t even really call it a front. It was more of an insurance that allowed people to think she was a good person among all of the questionable things she did.

“Thank you,” She acknowledged the girl’s apology and moved on. However, her nosiness got the best of her about what the girl was up to. She seemed to be waiting for someone by the way she checked her phone and was standing around. “Are you waiting for someone?” Maybe a date, she wondered. She truly was quite the nosy socialite.

Flying on a hot air balloon with somebody that was almost a complete stranger hadn’t turned out that bad in the end. Which is how he had found himself wondering how to approach her once more, just to talk with. She seemed interesting, and incredibly self assured. Something that, if he did not lie, Constantin found incredibly attractive. 

“Hi Bluebell,” he smiled, taking a step towards her. Who was Bluebell? That he did not know, but maybe he needed to discover a simpler mystery. Since the Vidal thing hadn’t been going that well for him, specially with the lack of information. @bluebxll​

.

Bluebell couldn’t lie and say that her ‘date’ with Constantin went badly. He was quite the romancer, and overall he just had a pleasing personality. Sure, he wasn’t exactly what she usually went for, but she did consider keeping him around for at least a little fun. What girl didn’t like to flirt and go on dates?

“Hi.” Her voice was light and airy, the kind she used when flirting. All she was missing was the cliche batting of her eyelashes. “I see I didn’t scare you off on our balloon date.” As dull as she could seem, the girl did have some jokes in her.

Although Belva could be clueless about many things, the relationships between people included, she had spent six years as Bluebell’s best friend. In those six years, the relationship (or lack thereof) between Blue and Neek had become obvious, and yet her blue eyes still widen slightly at the way her petite friend merely shrugs her shoulders.

“Yeah,” she nods, the word drawn out as she tugs at her top, slightly at a loss of what to do or say. “I know you guys aren’t close or anything, but, like, his house burned down. I mean, is he okay?” From what she’d heard, Neek was physically fine, but she still can’t help but to ask. How was it that even now, Bluebell seemed so unfazed by the drama and destruction around them?

.

Bluebell was faux in many ways that she wasn’t willing to admit, but one thing she was never hiding was her relationship with her brother. Neek seemed to be the most bitter of her brothers about the way she’d chosen to live her life, and the way the two butted heads was obvious. If you knew both of them, you knew they didn’t get along.

“I mean, he wasn’t inside, right? So I’m sure he’s fine.” Was there an inner worry for Neek’s safety? Maybe a little bit. Her parents would take it hard if anything happened to him. “I wonder how it caught on fire. You know, if it was an accident, or if he finally pissed someone off enough to come after him.” She wouldn’t say he deserved it, but she wouldn’t say she was surprised.

♥

Since her father’s death and her return to Vertmoor, there had been few days where Belva couldn’t be found in town, attending some sort of fitness class or running in the park. After her arrest, however, she had been staying closer to home in order to avoid the curious gazes. Today the sunshine had coaxed her away from the house on the hill, and as she spots a familiar face, she wastes no time in approaching her friend. 

A small huff escapes her lips at Bluebell’s comment, but she still steps out of the way as she gives her friend a confused look and asks a few question of her own. “Blue. What’s going on with your brother? Have you talked to him since the fire?”

.

Bluebell could say she was slightly surprised to see Belva out at the time. So much had been happening, and she couldn’t help but notice that it was keeping her friend inside and away from town. It was relieving to see her out and about. Blue wasn’t sure if it was because she was glad to see her friend was well enough to be outside, or if it was because she was glad Belva wasn’t totally a lost cause.

The dark haired girl shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.” She truly never knew what was going on with Neek. She preferred not to speak to him when she had the choice. “I haven’t talked to him lately. You know how he is. I’m the last person he’d reach out to.”

“Sorry, you’re kind of blocking the sun. Could you shift over a bit?”

Constantin fiddled with the edge of the basket while talking to the pilot, nodding his head along to his words. He’d begun asking how somebody could become the pilot of a hot air balloon, and that had the pilot diving into a long speech. Head beginning to fill with haze as he got lost in his own thoughts, humming and awwing at everything he said. All he wanted was a nice relaxing evening drinking wine and talking deeply with somebody. But somehow he’d found himself texting people he didn’t even know, and that made him slightly nervous. 

A breath of relief escaped him as he saw her waving at him, finally having an excuse to cut away from the conversation. Waiting for her to arrive in front of him. Constantin had the picnic basket will all the wine and finger food they could want for a one or two hour ride. “Hi. Hey. You look really pretty. Are you ready?”

...

It took a lot to make Bluebell Silva swoon. In fact, she was almost certain no one ever had. Her relationship with Ace had been the closest she’d ever come to feeling real feelings for someone, and even that was up for discussion. Others would probably say there was something wrong with her, but she considered it smart.

“I know. Thank you,” Blue responded to the boy’s comment, giving him a smile. She knew she looked good-- should she deny it? Never. “More than ready for some wine and to be in the air. So how does this work? Do we just get to stand and relax while someone pilots the balloon and pretends they aren’t eavesdropping on our conversations?”