Chapter 2: What's Left Unsaid
1606 Words
Callen | East Courtyard Pathway to Infirmary | Late Morning
The moment I heard she fell, my heart didn't just skip a beat. It crashed.
One second I was across the field, the next I was flying. Literally.
The wind roaring around me, fueled by the one element I've always been good at: Air.
It was instinct, not thought. I just need to get to her fast.
Eleanor Roséthorne.
The so-called villainess of Forbes Magic Academy and my childhood friend. The girl whose laugh used to sound like summer.
When I caught her halfway down that cliff, her body limp in my arms, bruised and scarred. I couldn't breathe.
I didn't even feel anything until we were already in the infirmary.
Duncan didn't even move. He just stood there, watching her like it was just another tragic story written by someone else, and yeah, I noticed that.
I noticed everything, but I didn't say anything. I just focused on her.
Because someone had to.
And now, two days later, I'm back in the same hallway, holding the same breath in my lungs and hoping she's awake.
The sun is high, casting golden rays through the glass arch above me, lighting up the path like a spotlight and that's when I hear footsteps. Three sets of familiar footsteps.
Calix, my twin, Niko and Duncan.
“Where are you going?” Calix asks, his voice teasing like always.
“To visit Eleanor,” I answered.
They exchange a glance then a smirk flickers across Niko's face.
“We're going to see Charlotte,” he says, casually like it's a normal thing to do.
I stop walking.
Because really?
“She almost died,” I murmur. “And you're not even...”
I cut myself off. Never mind.
They shrug again.
“She brought it on herself,” Calix mutters, and maybe that's true. Maybe Eleanor did become something twisted over time.
But isn't that what pain does?
They walked away. I let them, but then, he stops.
Duncan.
I looked at him.
He doesn't say a word. He just walks right past me, straight to the infirmary.
I stare after him. His back is stiff, his hands in his pockets, but his jaw's tight, like he's fighting something.
Emotion? Guilt? Hope?
He loved her once, right?
Before Charlotte.
Before everything broke.
Sometimes, I think maybe a part of him still does, maybe he just forgot.
“What about tea with Charlotte?” Calix calls, half-laughing.
Nico grins. “Later. Let's see what drama Eleanor has in store first.”
“She'll probably cling to Duncan again,” Calix jokes, rolling his eyes.
Callen | Forbes Magic Academy Infirmary | Late Morning
The infirmary hallway is quiet, too quiet.
Duncan stands in front of the door, hand on the knob, but he doesn't push it open.
He's frozen and that's when I hear it.
A voice, her voice.
"I'm sorry." she says softly.
And I swear to everything above and below, the world stops.
None of us speak, because we haven't heard that voice sound like that in a long time.
A real and sincere in that way you can't fake.
She never says sorry. Not since she snapped, since she started wearing bitterness like perfume.
But now? She sounds like someone we all knew before. Before the jealousy, before Duncan looked at someone else the way he used to look at her.
And then she laughs. Not the sharp, sarcastic kind. This laugh is warm, too soft and too familiar.
My chest tightens. Calix stares. Niko, for once, doesn't have anything sarcastic to say, because in that laugh, we remember her, our Eleanor.
The Eleanor in a sundress, hair wild with flowers, laughing so hard she couldn't stand, us sitting under the cherry trees, and swearing we'd never let anyone hurt her.
Duncan's hand, still on the door handle, trembled the tiniest bit.
I saw it.
Then, when he finally pushed the door open, it felt less like walking into a room and more like stepping into a memory.
There she was. Sitting upright on the infirmary bed, with bandages. Sunlight from the window spilled over her like she was made of it.
Her silky white curly hair was loose and glinting. Cheeks flushed. Amethyst eyes wild with that mischievous spark we hadn't seen in forever.
She was smiling, really smiling.
She was devastatingly beautiful.
Even Calix stopped breathing, and the playboy Nikolai blinked like he'd forgotten how to speak.
But Duncan stood beside me, stiff, unmoving, like someone had punched the air out of his lungs.
His cold expression didn't melt, not completely. But I saw that it barely cracked.
The wall he'd built against her wavered.
The tension snapped back in place the second she turned to us sharply, and then she smiled wickedly.
Then, like she hadn't just shattered us all with a laugh from another lifetime, she raised a brow and said unapologetically, “Wow. Dramatic entrances? That your thing now?”
Duncan's jaw slackened. His brows twitched, but Eleanor tilted her head, smile fading into something sharp, and said, “But seriously, what exactly are you doing here? Did the Ghosts of Guilt form a reunion tour, or were you just hoping to see if I stayed dead this time?”
Her tone cut like glass. Gone was the laugh we just heard, that sweet thing that melted walls, this one was mocking.
This was her armor. Her villainess persona, the one we built.
Her lips curled into a bitter smirk.
“Please. If you came here expecting some heartwarming reunion, you've clearly mistaken me for the girl who used to beg you to stay.”
And just like that, the air shifted.
I felt that. We all did, but none more than Duncan.
He didn't move, he just stood there, breathing unevenly, like he was still processing her voice, her words. Her distance, because that's what it was.
She wasn't waiting for us with hope in her eyes anymore.
She was done.
Calix cleared his throat, clearly annoyed.
“We came here to check on you. You could at least act grateful.”
I shot him a look, but he didn't notice or just didn't care.
Niko added, “Yeah, Charlotte's been waiting for us. We came here first, and this is what we get?”
I looked back at Eleanor. She was quiet, too quiet.
Then, slowly, she met each of our eyes.
ONE BY ONE.
There was something in her gaze I hadn't seen before, not just anger, not just pride, but it was fiercer. It felt like she could see through us.
Like she was peeling back all the versions of us she once loved and now, all she saw were strangers.
When her eyes landed on Duncan, who hadn't stopped staring at her since we walked in, she smiled cruelly.
“Then go to Charlotte,” she said simply, “I don't care anymore.”
Damn.
That was the part that punched me in the chest. I swear the room went silent, because that wasn't her playing coy.
She'd never said that before.
This time, she meant it.
She wasn't reaching for him.
I looked at Duncan, instinctively.
His knuckles were white. His whole body was tense, but his expression wasn't cold anymore. Pain.
It ghosted across his face. It's not obvious, but it's there, like a memory slipping out before he could shove it back down.
His jaw clenched but still, he didn't speak. He just watched her like he was seeing a version of her he didn't recognize; or maybe one he'd buried so deep, he didn't think she could rise from the ashes.
I hated the way my heart twisted, because for a split second, he looked like the man who used to love her, or maybe he still did.
But she?
She looked at him like she never would again.
The silence stretched long enough to make it awkward. The kind of silence that vibrated in your ears and said more than words ever could.
But then, she looked at me and just like that, the air shifted again.
Her eyes met mine, those same fierce purple eyes that used to light up the moment she'd spotted us down the hallway, but this time, they were softer and calmer. She was letting her guard down just for me.
A breath caught in my throat.
“Thank you,” she said, “For saving me.”
My heart did this stupid, loud thump in my chest, and it took everything in me not to let it show.
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but then I felt it.
A stare, that blade-sharp, soul-cutting stare from him. Duncan.
He made me feel like I'd taken something that was still his, even if he'd left it bleeding on the ground a long time ago.
I swallowed thickly, not backing down from his stare, but not challenging it either.
Eleanor didn't seem to notice.
She laid back down again, that soft smile still brushing her lips, and then closed her eyes like she'd said everything she needed to.
Then Ysabela stepped in, her voice was gentle but firm, “She just woke up. Please let her rest now, Your Highness, My Lords.” and that was that.
Calix turned first, followed by Niko. Duncan stayed a second longer, eyes now locked on her like she was some unsolvable puzzle. Then finally, he walked out too.
I look at her before going out.
Eleanor wasn't fighting for him this time.
She was fighting for herself.
- Writer
