#rothaunt.

[viscerarotw]

the ghost of everlasting love, the whispers of their vows, the beauty of their affection for one another scratched impatiently at mia’s soul, begging her to let it be free. free from what, exactly? was it her conflict of deciding whether to accept ethan’s sweet words, or her inability to turn it away? she wanted to dive back into the dark waves of the bayou of the baker estate, cover her inner disharmony in water, save herself and leave the marriage behind. the ghost hinted at success once she stepped away from ethan, but now, it could only strain against her empty husk once more as he made contact.

did he not want her to leave? he had made it perfectly clear that he was satisfied with remaining with a lunatic who wanted to use the couple’s daughter as a weapon, not a person to be loved and cherished. perhaps ethan himself didn’t know what he wanted, and karl and mia were playing a game of tug of war, both undefeated. did mia not just forfeit her win until her husband grasped the rope tighter and thrust it into her hands? what was that? a call for help? an echo in a cave that was on the verge of collapse?

❝ ethan! ❞ her heart acted before her brain, spectre of her conflict grabbing at her scarred shoulders with its phantom hands, pulling her away from him. she did not accept his comfort. could not accept his excuses. his selfish, idiotic excuses, coming not from a place of love but desire— and not for her.

in turn, she mimicked the ghost, bony fingers digging into ethan’s shoulders, shoving him back. it was years ago when she grasped at them, pulled them forward to hurt him. instead, she was pushing them back to hurt him.

❝ no. no, no … ❞ mia pulled her fingers through her hair, digits becoming tangled in the strands, and she didn’t want to hear it. didn’t want more excuses to linger in her mind when she left, didn’t want to believe that it was the only way for her to do anything. ❝ ethan— stop! you’re making it worse for all of us. ❞ she begged for mercy, begged to not hear of what could have possibly began their torture. in her mind, it was HER. it would always be her.

❝ ethan, you don’t know what you’re saying! you’re already lying about things that have already happened. you have disappeared. you know you have. ❞ hands clenched into fists. ❝ don’t argue with me for lying when you’re doing it right now. do you even realise the words that are coming out of your mouth? ❞

continuation from X | @rothaunt

[lethalorcouture]

mia recoiled back at the statement, love crumbling away for her trapped husband as he used rose against her. was it really necessary for him to even say what he did? or was he further building up a barrier between the two of them— one that mia would soon be unable to cross. one that she would give up trying to cross.

her fingernails dug into the back of her left palm, teeth driving uncomfortably against her lower lip— feeling a sense of nervousness but also impatience with him. why did he have to fight so hard against her?

what had the final lord done to her adoring husband?

❝ you don’t care. ❞ she spat out, no longer holding in those impulses that had embedded itself into her because of her years around bioweapons. it was like eveline still possessed her, or it was all mother miranda’s fault— or maybe she should stop blaming her personality shift on someone who is gone.

❝ you don’t need to act like you do. it’s clear what you’re doing. you’re pushing me away to satisfy your own needs. ❞

it was clear she had given up with trying to sweet talk him.

❝ you’re being selfish. ❞

continuation from X | @rothaunt

[viscerarotw]

❝ i think you should’ve been! i think what you’re doing now is cruel, and i wish i was back there! ❞ the words fell out of mia’s mouth, ungraciously, no need for repentance nor sacrifice. perhaps she should repent for her sins, raise her hands up to the sky, beg for forgiveness from a stranger. yet it was not a stranger she needed to repent to, but her husband, her forgiving, understanding husband … who deserved so much better than her. mia should fall to her knees, place her hands together in faux prayer, whisper sweet nothings that would feed his soul until he would come back, take her hand into his and allow her back into his heart.

but mia did not want to fall to her knees for such a coward, a man who turned his back to his wife and left her with nothing but memories. he was CRUEL, yet she had the ability to harbour that cruelty too, as she did in the past. would it take physical violence to harness that characteristic or would she be able to send the message across verbally? mia did not know, could never know until she made an attempt.

❝ yes. both of us are dead. that’s not news, ethan. you should have thought of that, known that, before you ever stepped foot inside our home! ❞ it felt wrong to call it their home. because it wasn’t, not anymore. it belonged to the winter of romania and the decaying love that had been long forgotten about. ❝ you never even considered the fact that you had been infected too. if you had, you could’ve took the cure for yourself. saved yourself a shit ton of trouble. could’ve saved rose, too. there is no reason for us to share responsibility, here. i— i wanted you to stay at home. safe. you dragged yourself into this mess. ❞

❝ and now you’re pulling me down further with you. there was no reason for me to trust you. there never will be. i hope he betrays you too. you deserve it. ❞

continuation from X | @rothaunt

[lethalorcouture]

mia prodded at her dessert with the ornate piece of cutlery, hand gripping the handle tighter than before, the atmospheric tension seeping into her figure rather than remaining in the air. with each delicate tap of the end of the spoon against the dessert, the sides began to crumble, falling loosely against the plate it was resting on.

she felt that she couldn’t continue the meal after the topic of conversation had moved to her job. she had barely touched the wine in front of her, which would have made the conversation so much easier.

❝ this babysitting job is important, ethan. ❞ she sliced through the plush mousse with the edge of her spoon, finally lifting it to her lips and letting the fresh sensation crawl over her tongue. ❝ i doubt they would’ve hired me if they had some simple solution. ❞

but mia completely understood how ethan felt: upset she was leaving. she could tell from his body language.

❝ baby … ❞ she sighed out, lifting the remainder of the minuscule dessert onto her spoon, holding it out for him. ❝ of course i’ll try. but i’ll be back before you know it, yeah? ❞

her hand curled loosely around the side of his face and she tried to lean closer, across the table, but it was clearly blocking her path. was this how she was going to feel for the rest of her life? barred by something as insignificant as a table— unable to reach him— yet forever feeling his affection in her heart?

was it really worth it?

❝ i know. ❞ she mumbled, head tilting to the side as she stroked her thumb along his face, wrist still unmoving, still in his grasp. ❝ it won’t be long. ❞

it hurt to lie to him.

to betray him.

continuation from X | @rothaunt

[viscerarotw]

❝ you don’t need to explain anything to me, ethan. whether you remember or not… all that matters is that you’re here. here with me and rose. ❞ alive, she thought, but didn’t dare mutter out the word. in a way, she felt like actually acknowledging his survival would somehow remove the blessing that had been granted, like simply suggesting his revival would lead to his destruction. she never expected this— had been given the confirmation multiple times that he was dead. but that wasn’t true, and now mia had to decide whether it would be best to escape from the past or embrace it. but she could not embrace such memories as happily as she had done with her husband.

she allowed him to take their daughter, the one who had also been through so much during their stay in romania. ethan was the one who went through hell to find the child. of course he deserved to hold her, cherish her, love her in a way that proved his selflessness, the sacrifices he made. it made her guilty, in a way; the fact that she had been trapped in one space when she could’ve made more of an effort to escape, to leave the confinement mother miranda pushed her into.

the conclusion was swiftly made: ethan deserved rose more than mia did. she did everything she could, but it wasn’t enough. was that why mia felt so torn? was that why she could not regulate her feelings properly?

❝ you… ❞ she wasn’t sure how to phrase her sentence, how to let him know that he looked so healthy. of course, there was inevitable exhaustion in his eyes, yet… there was some sort of aura surrounding him that made mia believe he was truly well. ❝ oh baby… i’m so glad you’re here. ❞

continuation from X | @rothaunt

[viscerarotw]

all mia could hear was the distant ticking of a clock, the large one that she had encountered multiple times, whispering phrases she had dreamt continuously: ‘you’re too late’. it ricocheted through her mind, running rampant through the organ, did not let her forget what she did wrong in her life. she knew she could not escape her mistakes, she knew she had to repent for her sins… but this was too much. had she not already endured the suffering needed to balance out all of the bad things she did? or was the universe set on putting her through hell once more?

she could not stop running. she did not want to stop running, not with the contorted version of those she cared for chasing after her. mia was not sure who had been bundled together; she only recognised their defining features. it was her worst nightmare, and she was living it.

mia was terrified.

her breathing was heavy, too heavy, as she ran around the corner of the house, propelled herself forward with the ripped wallpaper. but then, the footsteps stopped. the groaning and screaming from behind her ceased, and mia finally found herself relaxing. she knew it would not last long. in fact, she was ready to start running again instantly, but something was different. as if the air in the basement had shifted, distorted to suit the hands of another.

mia removed her hand from the wall, took a step forward. the floorboard groaned, similar to the primal sounds she had listened to for so long, began advancing in the only direction she could go.

was someone talking to themselves?

her hand curled into a fist, as if ready to face the antagonist that had rendered her vulnerable inside the basement, but open glancing through the gap of the slightly ajar door, the truth was revealed to her.

❝ ethan? ❞ her voice stretched across the room, but mia did not enter, could not bring herself to face @rothaunt.

[viscerarotw]

mia could not help grasping at the past, reaching to memories she should not be reaching to, skin against skin reminding her of those times that she should’ve been there, but was not. reminding her of those times where she had fed him lies, lies to protect him, but, nonetheless, still lies. she should have learnt her lesson, turned back against her inevitable destiny and refrained from whispering a melody into his ear. why did she always long to shield him from the truth? build walls of roses and passion to defend him? she did not have that right. not anymore— he was the one who was supposed to defend himself from the things that he deemed dangerous.

mia could not imagine what ethan had gone through because of her deceit. had he met the doors of heaven? perhaps he believed he was in heaven now— after all, this was an ideal ending— one that was only printed in storybooks and tales of princesses and princes. this was not a fantasy. but, in a way, it felt like it. with all of the witchcraft and narratives of immortality, perhaps fate had been kind to them and granted them their happy ending.

❝ rose is okay. i’m okay. baby, we’re okay. ❞ she repeated her words with sweetness coating her lips, pressing dear rosemary into his body, letting him know that his daughter was alive. physical touch must have been a mercy, because would he believe that they were real if that was not the case? mia would not have been able to prove it with the truth, like they did in the movies, listing off memories that only the two involved would know. ❝ it’s all over now. i promise. ❞ her voice lowered to a whisper, eyes fixed on her husband. ❝ i know that what you remember is horrible. but… honestly… there’s no reason to worry now. ❞

continuation from X | @rothaunt

[viscerarotw]

mia deserved to be mad. deserved to be angry. she should have done worse, thrown words of glass and pierced his heart, reject the love that he claimed to have with weapons rather than gentle pushes. was it not the same as before? when he wandered into the vicinity of the baker house and she tried to pry him out of the nightmare? pushed him towards a greater destiny than remaining with her? when that didn’t work, did she not take the opportunity to pick up items of destruction and pain to forcefully remove him from the house, despite his incessant protests? that was why she loved him, why she slid on her silver band once more, cloaked herself in a veil, sealed herself into the inevitable tragedy.

every word that escaped his mouth, pleas of devotion, pleas of knowledge … it meant nothing to her. she had tormented herself enough with bringing ethan back into her arms. she could no longer indulge in fantasy, had to live in a reality where she was both victim and villain of the story. she knew she did not harbour the fault on her own, and it was shared with a wider audience, but her eyes had turned dull with pessimism, no longer full of hope. mia could not believe him, could not believe herself, and instead was placed on the forefront of a chasm, waiting patiently to become lost.

❝ i don’t want you to apologise. ❞ she sighed, brought her hands together after ethan had finally released her. had he given her his blessing? so that she could move on? of course, she would’ve expected something similar to have happened once he had created a bond with the other man, expected that to be a sign she could leave. but it was her heart that could not let go. perhaps this was an indication she could leave. but, if that was the case, mia was not leaving without her daughter.

❝ i know you’re sorry. i know you’re confused. i know that the BSAA lied to you about a lot of things because there was no room for such information to be given to a wider range of people. ❞ she spoke mechanically, unlike she had ever spoken to him before. ❝ i know too much, ethan. things that you want me to know and things that you don’t want me to know. ❞ she paused, slid her hands over one another, interlaced her own fingers, felt the bump of her knuckle. ❝ but what i don’t know— what i don’t get— is why you would betray not only me, but your daughter. ❞

continuation from X | @rothaunt