* LINCHPIN /

                     chelsea.   

            the name doesn’t reach her mouth, only feels like a ripple through her mind, an instinct — something that speaks of familiarity and draws her nearer.   heidi’s not in the best of moods, not after being so close to her former home, even if never daring to cross the border, but the voice so achingly known lifts her up from the dent she has fallen into.   she’s young, compared to others, still unknown, but one thing she’s sure of — they’ll always be happy to see her, even if only because of the prospect of fresh food.    

            heidi’s hand is quick to latch onto the other’s, words bring back a somewhat amused smile back into her lips, together with a hum.   ❛ he’s an acquired taste. ❜    but she loves him dearly still;   perhaps because there are never any expectations that she must fulfill when she speaks with him.    she doesn’t stop to talk, giving a non verbal yes to her previous offer.   free fingers dig into the pockets of her loose coat before holding out a tiny package, for her.     

            once she saw the gold-laced fern pin, with soft darkness around the edges, she couldn’t resist the urge to get it.   something about it said chelsea’s name even so far away from home.     ❛ picked up a little something.   to lift up your spirits.   just in case felix annoyed you too much. ❜                           

     guilt  creeps  like  a  shadow  within  her  soul   ...   or  in  the  recesses  where  her  soul  should  be.   it  never  leaves  her,  and  in  moments  like  these,  moments  she  is  entirely  undeserving  of,  it  rears  its  ugly  head  and  leaves  her  shaken.   it  is  not  the  beautiful  pin  that  chelsea  is  undeserving  of   --   it  is  the  bearer.   heidi,  who  chelsea  has  come  to  love  beyond  measure.   and  chelsea  had  taken  everything  from  her.   the  right  to  grieve  her  slaughtered  coven,  the  right  to  choose  where  she  belongs.   it  is  in  these  small  moments  that  chelsea  is  reminded  of  the  monster  she  is  and  will  continue  to  be.

me, a mutual who has never interacted: