Nimi: Celebrating us
Fandom: The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle
Kirjoittaja: Crys
Ikäraja: S
A/N: Hyvää joulua! Luin Evelynin seitsemän kuolemaa ja en pystynyt päästämään irti näistä hahmoista ja tästä maailmasta, joten kirjoitinpa jotain pientä siitä. Jos meinaa lukea tuon kirjan (mitä ehdottomasti suosittelen, koska se on yksi parhaista kirjoista, jonka oon ikinä lukenut) ei kannata lukea tätä, koska tää spoilaa sen loppua. Tää on englanniksi, koska luin kirjan englanniksi. Kirjoitettu Finin joulukalenteriin 2020 ja julkasenpa tän jo nyt kun muistan. Osallistuu haasteisiin FinFanFun1000 sanalla varmuus.
The tree didn’t end up looking as sad as Aiden had first thought when Anna had brought the barely chair-length spruce to home. At a safe distance from the crackling fireplace, the tree almost looked like it belonged in that usually empty corner after decorating it with few cone-ornaments they had earlier today crafted. It certainly brought something new to the old cottage they had found and made their home – for now. They still had to keep running from the past but at least this time their lodging was in the middle of a forest in a country neither of them spoke the language of, so they most likely wouldn’t need to abandon this place as soon as the last ones.
“I wonder what Christmas at Blackheat would be like,” Anna said quietly from her side of the couch, moving her index finger in small circles on the surface of an almost empty eggnog glass she was nursing in her hands. Her legs were pressed against her torso and she had a blanked wrapped around her like she was cold. She wasn’t cold though, by now Aiden new that Anna just liked to be extra warm. Her eyes looked into nothing as she was lost in thought, lost in memories, even though they had made a promise not to dwell on the past. Nothing good would come of remembering the lives that belonged to very different people.
“Best not to wonder. It must have been simply dreadful,” Aidan said from the other side of the couch, his thoughts wondering to the Hardcastle children. Even when Thomas was alive, it seemed unlikely that Christmas in that family was that jolly holiday that was the highlight of every privileged child’s year. Aiden couldn’t stop himself from wondering if he had been one of the fortunate children looking forward of Christmas, but he quickly shook his head to leave the foggy memories alone. He took a sip of his eggnog, letting the fiery taste of rum bring him back to this moment.
Anna sighed, still lost in memories, and only then Aidan noticed the tense Anna had spoken in. Future tense. She wasn’t talking about the past Christmases the Hardcastle children had had. She was talking about the present of Blackheat.
“If they aren’t still in the loop, do you think they move forward? Do you think there is snow in Blackheat?”
“Anna,” was all Aiden had time to say, before Anna sighed apologizingly.
“I know, I know. We mustn’t dwell on it,” she said the words that kept escaping Aiden’s mouth whenever the topic came up.
“But I can’t forget. How could I? How can you?” Now desperation had risen to her voice and her eyes. She was asking for advice, convinced that Aiden had found the secret of forgetting.
“I can’t either. It follows me into my sleep. Sometimes I’m still there, trying to solve the murder before time runs out.”
Anna nodded in a way which made clear she unwillingly dreamed of it too. “How about your past life before Blackheat? Do you dream of that too?”
Aiden hesitated to answer the question because he wasn’t that sure of what to answer. He didn’t exactly dream of his past life, but in some of the dreams he could feel the old hateful and sorrowful consciousness of broken Aiden Bishop and the alarming way it was dripping through the mist of sleep. He was still somewhere in there even though he had stopped hearing his voice long ago.
“Aiden?”
Aiden raised his eyes to meet Anna’s, but instead of answering the question that seemed too queer and even dangerous to escape his lips, he decided to say something lighter. “I honestly can’t even remember if I celebrated Christmas,” he said with a small chuckle in his voice to lighten the mood.
Anna’s forehead wrinkled lightly as she was trying to remember the answer to that question, but at least now her thoughts were in less harmful and complicated memories. “I can’t either. But I don’t feel like a religious person.”
“Neither do I. But we already got a tree and eggnog, so might as well celebrate something,” Aiden said smiling and raised the glass in his hand to meet Anna’s. The glasses made a small clinking sound, but when Aiden was bringing the glass to his lips, Anna still raised hers, looking more cheerful, finally free of the worry of the past. At least for a moment.
“Let us celebrate… us. Our freedom. Our future, whatever it might hold for us.”
Aiden smiled and raised his glass again with Anna.
“To us.”
