forgotten juliet; -reserved-

[ellyllon mary arthur]

[/i] Her mind whispered. Elly detested fevers and colds, runny noses and sitting in bed, missing classes. All that ever came of it was a lot of missed work and a few days of feeling terrible. No, the girl told herself, lifting her blankets off her petite form and swinging her legs to the side of the bed, I am not sick, and I will not be. As if trying to prove this to herself, she jumped out of bed almost soundlessly, with a determined look upon her delicate features, putting on a show of hardiness as she did so. As her feet touched the floor, her head spun again and a chill overcame her. Biting her lip, the girl chose to ignore this. Nothing to worry about, she told herself.

Trying to be silent as she possibly could as to not wake her dorm mates, the girl tip-toed to the dressing room on feet like feathers. Upon reaching her closet, she rifled through the various jumper skirts and blouses, looking for specific pieces she saved particularly for this occasion. For today, as she had done every anniversary of her mother's accident, Ellyllon mourned. She left her pretty florals, light beiges and roses, for garments of black.
Elly dressed rather shakily today, sometimes dropping her garments as she was overcome by chills or dizzying pains in her head. Normally, on this day, she would indeed not have the steadiest of hands, but generally this was due to bouts of crying that left her shaken and lonely. Though the girl was close to tears, this was more due to the terrible pain wracking her head than painful thoughts of her mother. She had already decided, due to Edward's help, that she needn't let her mother, or memories of her, control Ellyllon any longer. She was her own person, and existed outside of her mother. She could continue to love her, care for her, and weep for her, but Elly could not let her loss control her. She mourned today for the mother she lost, but also the innocence she lost, and the character she gained. The girl missed her mother dearly, but found it was a bit easier to speak of her, to think of her and smile instead of sob in recent days.

Upon exiting the dressing room, an image of night, Ellyllon was fully awake now; though not for the greatest reasons. Her head was aching a terrible amount, a feverish ache that made everything else on her feel unnaturally cold. She might have gone back to bed then if not for her pride, and for the fact the girl had a letter to write, as was tradition for her.
She staggered to the bathroom, applying little makeup after washing her face in cool water and brushing her teeth. Her long, what colored hair hung low at her lips, silky and straight as silk. With nimble, pale fingers, the girl arranged it into a side braid, then pinned up her hair to create a sophisticated, braided bun. The girl stared at her reflection in the mirror as she placed two black hair corsages in her bun, her steely eyes hazy and slightly unfocused as she gazed upon her bisque-doll features. Watching her from the other side of the glass was a tired looking girl of seventeen, though she could barely pass for thirteen on a good day. The girl had to stand upon her tip toes to see her entire face in the mirror, something which she used to find quite annoying but now accepted as habit. The blond arranged her features into a look of determined rebellion, taking a deep breath and standing up straighter, though it worsened her headache to do so. You are fine, Elly, you must believe this, she told herself after one last look in the mirror, before turning away to take her leave.

The girl's roommates still had yet to rise, so Elly continued her soft footfalls until she reached her desk. Opening it cautiously, hardly daring to breathe, the girl quickly took out the stationary box she used for letter making. Unlocking the wooden frame, she slowly pulled back the top of the box, and hurriedly took from inside it. She rolled up a few sheets of paper, her fountain pen, an envelope and a single stamp to put in her midnight colored violin bag, before closing the box once more and placing it inside her desk. Behind her, one of her roommates rustled the sheets, and Elly quickly spun around to look; but the girl across the room from her was still, thankfully, sleeping. Elly closed her desk silently, once more with cautious, careful hands, and bustled out of the room quickly, before she could make more noise. Her head pounded from all the movement as she shut the door behind her, leaving the room in a daze.

Leaning up against the wall outside her dorm, Ellyllon took the stationary in her hand and made to put it in her bag, before she noticed the creamy paper with a pink border was the very same she used to write Edward's poem for Christmas. Edward.. the very name was enough to make her eyes close and a sigh to escape, a soft smile upon her pale tulip lips as it did so. He was her best friend; well, really her only friend since coming to Mille-feuille. Though, she never had many friends before that, either. She was always a very shy, very awkward girl, especially around boys. However, Edward showed her the kindness, the affection she had desired for so very long, but never received until now. He looked past her shyness and brought out the girl inside her, one who was caring, outward, and kind. She supposed one could say she loved him; for she certainly did, at least as a friend. She also felt hopelessly attracted to him, for as he had already explained to her, they couldn't be together. It tore at Ellyllon's tender heart, but she had learned to mostly keep her feelings for him under control as well as she could; which wasn't very well at times. Edward was always a friend, however, no matter what they had done to each other or how one had acted. Ellyllon adored him.

With a soft sigh passing between her pouty lips, the girl gently rolled up her supplies and placed them carefully in her bag. She would have more luck writing in the library, surely... but she wasn't sure if that was the best place for her at that moment. She was burning up but her bones were ice, and she felt shaky and ill as she stood against the dorm wall. Her face was pale, lacking all color, including her normal blush. I simply need some fresh air, Elly told herself, giving an excuse for her fever. Yes, a visit to the garden would do her well, at least for a few minutes, until she could return and write her letter to her father and mother.

The girl made her way down the two staircases, as she might put it, without much trouble. That is, if "without much trouble" meant her clutching the railing for dear life and having to stop to hold her head in pain every few minutes. Elly finally arrived at the school's entryway doors, a cold sweat dampening her forehead and her mercury vision unclear, unfocused. With trouble, the tiny girl opened the doors, a whoosh of frozen air pushing into her as soon as she took a dainty step outside. Closing the door behind her, the girl noticed that part of the walk leading up to the school had been paved. This was certainly in her favor, for the girl was certainly not wearing shoes suitable for walking around in two feet of snow.

The chilly air was refreshing to Elly, as it cooled the fever upon her face and threw everything into sharp reality once more. Hugging her fur shawl closer to her, the girl began taking cautious steps upon the snow and ice, walking slowly, convincing herself she was feeling better already. If there were noises behind her, she certainly didn't hear them. Though the snow had taken a respite from falling, silence still pressed itself around Ellyllon's doll-like figure. She smiled, closing her eyes in the cold, thinking of Edward and how wonderful it would be to see him today.[/ul]

[edward adam guildenstern]

A dull thump resounded through Edward's dorm room, followed by a sharp pain in his left hand. Edward sat up in bed suddenly, a few misplaced blonde strands dusting his cheeks and an annoyed groan sounded from tired lips. He felt his body reel backwards and he was suddenly laying down again, blue eyes trained to the ceiling as a steady throb sounded in the left side of his head. A headache. How beautiful. A pale hand brushed the blonde strands away from his face as Edward sat up once more, bare feet hitting the mat next to his bed before he trudged off to the bathroom, ready to face a new, rather snowy morning.

Upon reaching the bathroom, Edward looked down to see a slight cut on his left thumb from whatever he had smashed earlier in the throes of sleep. He turned on the faucet, the cold jets of water soothing the slight stinging pain in his hand. After removing his hand, Edward shook the water off and began to rummage through the cabinet for some sort of painkiller. Upon grasping a bottle of Tylenol, his mouth upturned into a wide grin before taking two and downing some tap water.

Now that both pains were taken care of, Edward changed into a relatively simple winter outfit, opting to leave his hair undone and instead putting on a relatively simple beret. Edward, careful to avoid waking his dorm-mates and quite practised in the art of walking silently in platform boots, slunk near-silently out of the door into a very slight dusting of snow. One gloved hand instantly raised to his head, careful to keep the beret from slipping off in the slight wind before setting off for the dining hall, hoping to run into some pleasant company over coffee and scones.

What Edward was not expecting to see was a black blob in the distance, seemingly going in the direction of absolutely nowhere. The blob appeared to have blonde hair and was, upon further inspection dressed in a co-ordinate of complete darkness. It must be Vivian or something, he surmised, she has blonde hair and usually wears black...right? But this person, as Edward neared, was quite small, even smaller than the already quite thin Vivian. He stopped, staring in confusion at the figure before Edward realized who it was. The snow seemed to die down at that moment, and Edward easily caught up with the figure who seemed to be having a difficult time even standing up straight, let alone walking.

He ran around her, boots crunching in the thin layer of snow until he was able to see her face. "Miss Ellyllon...? Oh goodness gracious, it's you! What on earth are you doing dressed like that?" Edward looked at the girl, his features etched in concern. "This is quite unusual," his brow furrowed. "And you look ill. Are you....feeling alright?" He held out his arm to the girl, although Edward was still quite visibly reeling with confusion.

"Erm, not to say you don't look good. You do," He stated simply, "But...this is quite odd." Edward looked closer, realizing that Ellyllon's eyes were wet. "Oh...oh dear. Did something happen?" Edward stepped back suddenly, arm still outstretched. "Oh, look at me, being rather pushy this morning. Forget I said anything." His other hand ran through his hair sheepishly. "I just hope you are feeling alright. And I'm sorry If I ended up startling you." He bit his lip, embarrassed. "And uh...you seem to be headed into absolutely nowhere, Miss Ellyllon, I figure I should let you know that." Edward stated, trying to cheer up the obviously distraught girl.