[Wednesday POV]
The first sound I heard was the ticking of the clock.
It always comforts me. There is something pure about time; it kills everything equally.
The second thing I felt was warmth. A rare, inconvenient warmth pressed against my side.
An arm was thrown over me, heavy and alive, and the faint rhythm of breathing stirred against the back of my neck.
I open my eyes.
Through the thin curtain, morning light seeps in. It cuts across the room and lands on tangled limbs and rumpled sheets. Perseus lies to my left, face turned toward mine, his expression peaceful in a way I have never managed. A dark curl rests across his forehead. His hand, still half-curled, lies near my pillow as if guarding it.
To his right, Enid's golden hair glows faintly in the dull light.
I watch them both for a moment, unmoving.
Then I move.
Sleep never appealed to me. It is a rehearsal for death without any of the permanence.
My feet touch the floor.
I cross to the wardrobe. My dresses hang in perfect alignment. I reach for the first one, the fabric smooth under my fingers, and pull it free.
In the mirror, my reflection waits. My hair falls neatly into place after a few precise strokes.
Behind me, the bed stirs.
Enid's voice comes first, soft and hoarse with sleep. "Mornin', birthday girl."
I turn slightly, watching as she pushes herself upright. Perseus blinks awake beside her, one eye half-open, a quiet groan escaping his throat as he realizes the hour.
Enid fumbles for something on the nightstand, a small box wrapped in messy purple paper. She grins sleepily.
"I wanted to give it to you before you vanish into the abyss or whatever you do every morning."
She sits cross-legged on my bed, practically vibrating with excitement. Her fingers play with the corner of the box as if she cannot stand another second of silence.
"Okay," she says finally, eyes sparkling. "You wanna know what the best part is?"
She hands it to me.
Inside the box lies a black knitted snood.
I look at her, expression perfectly still. "I am uncertain if I do."
"I have one too," she blurts, unable to hold it in another moment. Her smile is blinding, full of teeth and sincerity, two things I usually avoid before breakfast.
For a long, heavy second, the only sound is the clock ticking on the wall. Enid's grin wavers under the weight of my silence.
"We can wear them together to class," she says, her voice a little smaller now but still hopeful. She holds up her own snood, pink and white, obnoxiously cheerful, the opposite of mine. The black yarn she knitted for me gleams faintly in the morning light.
I study it for a moment, the effort, the clashing aesthetic, the strange gesture of affection wrapped in wool.
"Oh, Enid," I say at last, voice calm and deliberate. "This is far too unique to wear to something as trivial as class."
Her smile freezes. "Oh."
"I suggest," I continued, "that we wait for a more special occasion." I lifted the snood from its box, holding it between my hands as if it were a sacred relic. "Like a funeral."
For a long moment, she just stared at me.
Then Perseus sits up, hair falling over his eyes, and reaches toward the floor. A small package wrapped in black paper appears in his hand. His voice is low, still rough from sleep.
"For you."
I take it without a word. The wrapping feels rough beneath my fingers, the kind of paper that would crumble beautifully if burned. I peel it away carefully, layer by layer, until the object beneath reveals itself. A book.
Its cover is deep black, almost absorbing the light. The title, written in fading silver, reads Child Is Full of Woe. The binding is leather, soft and cold to the touch, and the pages are edged with dull gold, as if dipped in tarnished sunlight.
I open it. The first page carries a handwritten note in elegant ink.
For the soul that saw beauty where even death looked away.
Ulixe
My breath stills for half a second.
Behind me, Enid leans closer, curiosity winning over restraint. "Wait." She squints, then gasps. "Oh my God. That's Ulixe. The Ulixe. The mysterious author who's been publishing all those masterpieces the last few years. Nobody even knows who he or she is."
Her voice drops, reverent and trembling. "Do you have any idea how impossible it is to find a signed copy? There's literally no one who has one."
I run my thumb across the ink, feeling its raised texture. "Apparently not impossible."
Perseus smirks faintly, eyes half-lidded with amusement. "You're welcome."
Enid leans over the bed, still gawking. "I've read all of Ulixe's books, but I don't recognize this title. Is this new?"
Perseus's voice stays soft, almost too calm. His eyes lift toward me, catching mine.
"It's the only one," he says.
She waves her hand in a flustered circle, words tumbling out too fast. "I don't think that man has all his brain cells intact. Like, genuinely. He's brilliant, sure, but probably two poems away from institutionalization."
I glance at Perseus. He's smiling faintly, the kind of smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
Enid keeps talking. "I mean, the way he writes women. Beautiful, terrifying, tragic. It's like he's in love with his own nightmares. Totally insane, but in a poetic way, you know?"
Perseus reaches out a hand. "May I?"
Enid blinks, surprised. "Oh. Yeah, of course." She hands him the book.
He opens it slowly, the sound of paper sharp in the silence, and begins to write. His handwriting is deliberate, elegant, the same dark ink, the same signature curve.
Then he closes the book and offers it back to her. "There," he says.
The realization drains the color from her face.
Enid lets out a strangled squeak and bolts from the bed, half laughing, half terrified. Perseus rises after her, still smiling, the perfect predator indulging the chase.
I sit back on the bed, the book open in my lap. The inscription catches the light again.
I already knew Perseus was that mysterious author. Who else would be deranged enough to combine obsession, death, and verse and still make it sound like reason?
Still, a book written just for me. What an extravagant waste of time.
How awful.
How beautiful.
I turn the page.
************
Author Note:
Still missing about two or three chapters, and then Season 1 will be finished. I don't know exactly when I'll post them, but it'll be within the next week!
Don't have a good day. Have a great day.