[h2][b][color=red][center]FLASHBACK[/center][/color][/b][/h2]

[color=lightgray][center][h1][color=D0B4EC]Lottie[/color] & [color=lightsteelblue]Cas[/color]
Part 7[/h1]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/3xLx2dH.png[/img]
[b][color=D0B4EC]Time:[/color][/b] Sola 26th

[b][color=lightsteelblue]Location:[/color][/b] Rosegate
[b][color=lightsteelblue]Mention:[/color][/b] [@Tpartywithzombi] Violet 

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Charlotte’s glass of wine hovered mid-air, forgotten as her hazy mind attempted to process what she had just heard. Her eyes had widened to the size of saucers, shock flickering across her face. Perhaps she hadn’t expected him to regale her with a tale of battling hooligans while wielding an axe over steak and wine—but that was one thing. His final statement? That was an entirely different beast.

Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, she blinked—once, twice, then a third time—her brows knitting together in slow, drunken confusion. The warmth of the alcohol buzzed pleasantly through her veins, making it difficult to hold onto any one thought for too long, but this story? [i]This [/i] sliced straight through the haze.

[b][color=lightsteelblue][i]"You should have let them kill me."[/i][/color][/b]

Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass and her stomach felt as if it twisted

The room seemed to tilt ever so slightly, or maybe that was just the wine. Charlotte wasn’t sure. She let out a breathy, almost bewildered laugh, shaking her head as if that might help the pieces fall into place faster. But they didn’t. They scattered, like loose pearls on a marble floor, rolling just out of reach.

[b][color=D0B4EC] “You… You’re referring to Violet…“ [/color][/b] The words came out slow as if she needed to hear them aloud to make them real. [b][color=D0B4EC]  But why would they… “ [/color][/b] Charlotte exhaled sharply, her fingers drumming anxiously against the stem of her glass. Pieces of the conversation she’d had with Violet came flooding back.

[b][color=firebrick][i]“ But yes, the mutt downstairs is apparently my half brother. He is also apparently great at killing people…”[/i][/color][/b]

She now finally understood why Violet had said that, but the fact Cassius had mentioned an axe brought up only more questions. 

[i][b][color=lightgreen]”… I saw… V-V-Violet D-D-Damien’s dead.. Dead body… With an ax to the face.. I don’t.. I don’t know how.”[/color][/b] [/i]

[b][color=D0B4EC] “Um.”[/color][/b] Her brows furrowed once more, [b][color=D0B4EC] “Did she have a scar on her face when you first saw her?”[/color][/b]
[b][color=D0B4EC] [i] Violet had said she didn’t remember anything, but she certainly remembered this specific encounter given her commentary…This means that whatever had happened to her, whatever had left her in that state, must have occurred before this.  [/i][/color][/b]

Cassius took another slow sip of his wine, his expression unreadable as he let Charlotte’s question hang between them.

[b][color=lightsteelblue][i]Oh, love,[/i][/color][/b] he thought dryly, [b][color=lightsteelblue][i]that’s because my dear sister is actually a blood-sucking cursed creature of the night, and the Damien household is a madhouse wrapped in silk and scented candles.[/i][/color][/b]

But, of course, some things were best left unsaid; especially given that he had honestly already said too much with the story to begin with. Curse those wine-loosened lips. Even if he was starting to feel his drink a bit, and honestly had no idea where he truly fit in among the Damiens, he wasn’t the type to betray family secrets—not so easily, anyway. So instead of laying out the insanity for Charlotte on a silver platter, he simply chuckled and leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass.

[b][color=lightsteelblue] “You’re asking good questions for someone who’s already deep into their third—or was it fourth?—glass of wine.” [/color][/b] His smirk was easy, teasing, but his eyes held something heavier beneath the surface. 

Then, after a beat, he tilted his head slightly. [b][color=lightsteelblue] “But yeah… She had a scar—nasty thing, too. Looked like it had healed over, but it wasn’t old. Almost fresh, even.” [/color][/b]

His fingers drummed against the table, and he let out a low exhale, shaking his head slightly. [b][color=lightsteelblue] “Didn’t ask questions at the time. Figured she had enough problems without me poking around her past.” [/color][/b]

He lifted his glass in a small, almost wry toast before taking another drink. [b][color=lightsteelblue] “But…regarding the [i]whys and hows of it all[/i], I’ll give you this much—there’s a lot that goes on behind the pristine doors of the Damien estate. More than I could ever explain over dinner.” [/color][/b]

His gaze flickered over Charlotte for a moment, reading her expression, before he exhaled through his nose, letting a quiet chuckle slip. [b][color=lightsteelblue] “Trust me, in matters of the strange… sometimes, it’s best to just not know.” [/color][/b]

[b][i][b][color=D0B4EC]“No.”[/color][/b][/i][/b] Her voice wavered despite the abrupt way she had blurted the word—not from the wine, but from something deeper inside her chest. Charlotte shook her head once, twice, her eyes glassy yet resolute as they met his. [b][color=D0B4EC]“I can’t just… [i]not know.[/i]”[/color][/b] 

Her fingers found her temples and she rubbed them as if she could will away the spiraling thoughts that crashed against her mind. A sigh escaped her, and for a brief moment, she pressed her face into her hands 

This wasn’t important to him. [i]Why would it be?[/i] He had only just met his family. He hadn’t spent days drowning in an ever-growing tide of questions that refused to give her even a moment’s peace.

Charlotte’s voice, slightly muffled by her hands, came out almost incoherent yet tinged with unmistakable exhaustion. [b][color=D0B4EC]“My life has been nothing [i]but[/i] strange since I arrived here a week ago, and I am so dreadfully tired of understanding absolutely nothing.”[/color][/b]

She exhaled deeply, gathering herself, before lifting her head once more. Her frustration then softened into something more pleading. [b][color=D0B4EC]“…I grew up knowing Violet. And I promised her I would help her.”[/color][/b] She explained, [b][color=D0B4EC]“...I spoke with her after we first met, if you recall.”[/color][/b] 

[b][color=D0B4EC]“She told me she did not remember anything... Not who hurt her, not how she ended up this way.”[/color][/b] Her hands curled into fists against her lap. [b][color=D0B4EC]“Cassius, someone is trying to kill her, and if what you say is true, they may have tried more than once…”[/color][/b] She gestured vaguely toward him, toward his story, her movements looser than usual—whether from emotion or intoxication, she wasn’t sure.  [b][color=D0B4EC]“ How am I supposed to simply let it slide?”[/color][/b]
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