Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
In Our Darkness - 10. Chapter 10: Pietà
“Breathtaking.”
For a moment Celia thought the brown-haired boy was talking about her and she felt her cheeks heat up.
“Isn’t it?” he added, looking away from her and back to the photograph of the statue. They were inside of the school library studying religious sculptures as part of their philosophy course, and she just happened to be looking at a picture of Michaelangelo’s “Pietà.”
It wasn’t particularly breathtaking to her, especially not compared to the boy who—with his square jaw, full lips, and sparkling blue eyes—would have made for quite a handsome statue himself. The old marble was boring in comparison. But he seemed quite taken with it, so she followed her gut and gave an affirmative response for a chance to bond with him.
“Yes, although I’m not too religious,” she added, thinking it would give her a sense of edginess. He raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, you don’t need to be religious to appreciate the Pietà. You only need to believe in love,” he said and her heart sped up. The way he pronounced “love” was exquisite and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She drank in his words like wine. “The broken heart of a mother cradling her full-grown son in her lap; his body youthful, athletic and perfect, yet deceased. The promise of a great life, suddenly extinguished. The product of her very own body, dead. Blood of her blood and flesh of her flesh, gone before her. One can’t imagine a greater tragedy. It’s unnatural for a child to die before their parent, that’s why there is no term for it.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, more curious now.
“Well, a man with a deceased wife is a widower. A wife with a deceased husband is a widow. A child without parents is an orphan. But there is no term in the English language for a parent who loses a child, there’s no word that could accurately describe it,” he stated. Celia wasn’t much for romantic utterances, but he spoke so beautifully that even she felt something stir within her.
“I never realized that,” she replied. She wanted to reach out and touch him, run a finger along the edge of his sharp jaw.
“Alright guys, don’t forget there’s a paper due next class. Enjoy the weekend,” their professor announced and the spell between her and the boy was broken.
“Catch you later,” he announced without so much as giving her a second glance, and walked away with a lively step that had a bounce to it. She noted how tall he was, and how he walked with purpose. He high-fived two guys at the exit of the building and the trio left together. Meanwhile a stunned Celia stood glued to her spot, gazing after the boy longingly. She could have listened to him go on about the statue forever. His deep voice, the passion behind his words, they were deliciously attractive. She couldn’t wait for next class. She began to feverishly plan her outfit and hairstyle. And what causal conversation she could strike up with him. But when she got to class, the seats next to him were already taken. She frowned and took the seat in the row behind, which still gave her a nice enough view of the back of his head and his long neck.
She didn’t take her eyes off him the entire lecture and felt a pang of jealously when he laughed at something the girl next to him said. Even his laugh was perfect, booming and carefree but not prolonged or obnoxious.
That’s why the night Elisabeth introduced him as her latest boyfriend was like being stabbed with a knife.
“Celia, meet my latest and greatest squeeze, David,” Elisabeth stated, and both her and David laughed.
“Don’t I feel special,” he joked, then turned his eyes to Celia, “Hello, pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you,” he stated, and she could tell that he didn’t remember meeting her before. Their conversation about the Pietà didn’t even register in his brain. She meant nothing to him.
She half smiled then made an excuse to leave immediately. Elisabeth followed.
“CeeCee, what’s wrong?” she asked, running up behind her. Celia hated the childish nickname.
“Did it have to be him?”
“What do you mean?” a worried Elisabeth asked? “Oh gosh, have you two…? Do you have history together?” Now Celia was embarrassed. How was she supposed to explain that she was upset her friend started dating a boy she only spoke to once, and briefly at that.
“Wait…he’s not…he’s not the boy from your class is he?” Elizabeth asked and Celia could tell she almost laughed at the absurdity of it all but then caught herself. She just nodded a yes. “CeeCee, oh God I’m so sorry! I didn’t know. I had no idea. If I’d known, I never would have! I’ll end things right now if you want me to, just say the word. It’s girl code all the way. I mean it.” This was even more insulting. The fact that Elizabeth would give him up without a fight. Like he meant nothing to her. Like he wasn’t the most amazing man.
“No, don’t be silly. It was just a dumb crush. I’ll get over it. He’s probably a bore anyway,” she added.
“Aren’t they all?” Elisabeth said and laughed.
Celia had been jealous of her friend before that moment, but that night was the first night she first became acquainted with true hate.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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