Fia was tired – exhausted, even. She was wearied, dehydrated, and, quite frankly, done with everything. She couldn’t remember a time where she hadn’t been tired. Perhaps during the hours she had spent in the comfort of Regulus’ arms, finally feeling wanted, she wasn’t drained. Maybe before her brother had died, passing on the burdens of being the Solkolov heir, she had felt relaxed. It didn’t matter. That was all in the past, and as Fia walked through the overcrowded streets of a grey London, she felt tired.
Part of her knew others had it worse. The voices in her head tried to diminish her pain – tried to tell her that strangers have experienced terrible atrocities and yet didn’t let their lives fall apart like Fia had done. Although, those strangers weren’t vampires.
She was living in a small apartment in London. It barely fit 3 rooms, and the smell of damp was ridiculously overwhelming. It didn’t faze him though, and she wondered if that was why she’d stayed in that flat as long as she had. Inheritance meant Fia could easily afford better, yet she felt like she didn’t deserve more. Since the passing of the love of her life, she felt like she deserved nothing.
Regulus had died 3 and a half years ago, but all the time since then had blurred together and to Fia it felt more like mere seconds. Her throat still ached when she thought of him, and she found herself constantly blinking back tears. Though she had made attempts at healing the muggle way, the pain was just too fresh – too raw – to go away. Honestly, it probably never would. A large reason for her continually devastating grief was the guilt she felt, like somehow Regulus’ choice was her fault and she had driven him towards it.
The guilt had led her to constantly walk around London. She found herself traipsing around city landmarks endlessly, desperately wandering in and out of shops, pubs and museums, hoping to spark the joy or magic that Regulus had brought into her life. That was how she met the man she currently lived with.
It had been a rough day. Regulus’ death anniversary always was. Fia was stumbling through the paved cobbles thinking of nothing but bittersweet memories of Regulus that were forever tainted by intrusive thoughts about his death. She wasn’t looking where she was going and fell into a muggle, toppling them both over. From beneath her shaking body, he had looked up at her with striking grey eyes, the likes of which she hadn’t seen since lazy mornings with Reg. Fia had apologised, helped him up, and then turned quickly to make a hasty getaway when he had grabbed her coat sleeve and offered to buy them coffee. Fia didn’t drink coffee, and she didn’t go on dates with strangers she’d just met, but his gaze was so familiar, and she was desperate to escape the bleak reality of her ruined life.
The rest still confused Fia. He had been so eager to instantly start a life with her: move in together; get a pet; get married. Fia vetoed a lot of his suggestions. She found that a lot of her life choices were restricted by promises and plans with Regulus. Yet, she allowed him to live in her apartment, finding her days were less bad when she could sit with him and not just wallow in her misery. Still, as Fia trudged home, bone-tired and finished with the day already at 3pm, she reflected on her life and felt like shit.