Chapter-61 Shadow Of Home

Frederique staggered slightly under Lira's weight, the smaller girl's arm draped lazily over her shoulders. Lira's face was flushed a deep pink, her breath warm and sweet with the scent of Fey wine. She giggled every few steps, pressing her cheek against Frederique's shoulder as if she was melting into her.

" You reek of booze," Frederique muttered, adjusting her grip to keep Lira from sliding off completely.

" You really had to drink the whole bottle, huh?"

Lira responded with a dreamy hum, half a purr, half a sigh.

" Wasn't my fault. The waiter said I couldn't finish it... Had to prove 'im wrong. 'M a professional, Reddy... Don't... question me..."

Frederique snorted, rolling her eyes but keeping her grip steady.

"Yeah, professional disaster maybe. You're lucky you're light, or I'd be dragging you face-first across the pavement."

"Y'like my face too much for that," Lira teased, poking a wobbly finger against Frederique's cheek.

Frederique swatted the hand away, trying to suppress the twitch at the corner of her lips.

" No, I like not getting charged for property damage. Come on, we're almost there."

The city was quiet this late at night, the cobblestones slick with mist under the pale lantern light. The Fey Restaurant was far behind them, and the deeper they walked into the residential district, the more the supernatural haze seemed to thin. It felt... calmer here. The kind of quiet that stretched too thin, pressing in on the edges of her thoughts.

Frederique didn't like it.

Lira stirred, breaking the silence.

"Hey... y'ever think... we're gonna, like... die stupidly? Like... slip on soap... or somethin'?"

Frederique blinked.

"...What?"

"You know... not in battle. Not cool. Just... stupid. Like... banana peel stupid."

"You're definitely drunk."

Lira burst into giggles, loud and unrestrained.

" You'd... totally slip on a banana peel, Ridy."

Frederique grumbled under her breath, but there was no real heat behind it.

" I'm leaving you in a dumpster next time."

" Love you toooo~"

When they finally reached their small apartment, Lira had gone almost fully limp, her snores soft and cat-like as she clung to Frederique's sleeve.

Frederique fumbled for her keys, muttering curses as she tried to unlock the door without dropping her.

" This is why I don't let people get drunk around me... If you puke on me, I swear... "

The door creaked open, and she half-carried, half-dragged Lira inside. The warmth of the room was a welcome change from the damp chill outside.

Frederique made a beeline for the couch, but Lira stirred just enough to protest.

" Nooo... my bed... want fluffy pillow... s'better..."

" You don't deserve a fluffy pillow,"

Frederique grumbled, but she hoisted Lira back up the stairs anyway.

" You're lucky I don't just throw you in the bathtub."

When she finally dropped her onto the bed, Lira made a satisfied little noise, curling up like a cat in a sunbeam.

Frederique lingered for a moment, arms crossed, watching the steady rise and fall of her breathing. It was... weird. Having this closeness. This feeling of belonging around people again.

And yet, it felt so fragile.

So temporary.

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The night was too quiet.

Frederique stood outside her apartment now, the cool air nipping at her skin as she walked aimlessly through the streets. The fog had thickened, dampening the world in pale, ghostly grays.

Her feet took her there before she even realized it.

The old house.

It stood as it always had... tall, modest, the ivy creeping up the stone walls. The windowpanes reflected the lantern glow, hiding the inside at first.

She hadn't been back since... before.

Before Frideria.

Before the Hunger.

A knot tightened in her stomach, but she couldn't stop herself from stepping closer, drawn to the soft glow spilling out from behind the curtains. She barely had to move to see inside.

Her parents were there.

Her mother sat curled up with a cup of tea, the same brand she'd always brewed when it was cold out... chamomile, probably. The scent felt like it should be there, even though it wasn't. Her father sat nearby, flipping through a book with the calm, thoughtful expression he always wore when he was reading.

It was so... normal.

Frederique's chest tightened. Her heartbeat thudded louder in her ears.

They looked... happy.

Without her.

No signs of worry. No grief lingering in their expressions.

Had she been that easy to erase?

Had she ever really mattered to them?

The scoldings echoed in her mind

'...Why do you eat so much, Frederique? Why can't you control yourself? Look at you... if you'd just try harder...'

But they'd never noticed her pain. Not when she cried herself to sleep. Not when she begged for change.

And now? Now they looked... peaceful.

Because she was gone.

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms, the pain grounding her, sharp and raw.

I was never enough.

They didn't need me then.

They don't need me now.

The bitterness curdled in her chest, hot and sharp. She spun on her heel, turning away from the window, from the warmth, from them.

Her boots struck hard against the pavement, each step heavier than the last. She could barely see where she was going through the blur clouding her vision.

By the time she reached the park, her heart was pounding too hard, her breath ragged. The cold air stung against her face, but the ache inside felt far worse.

Anger surged up, desperate to be released.

A small stone caught her eye... just a pebble on the path.

Without thinking, she lashed out, kicking it with all her strength.

But instead of silence...

A scream rang out.