The Doll awoke from the comforting darkness, as she was always forced to do. Rubbing her eyes The Doll reluctantly sat up, feeling unusually tired despite having gotten plenty of sleep. After a long yawn The Dolls eyes adjusted to the light, where her vision was met with a wall lined with stuffed animals.
Why were there stuffed animals in The Dolls room?
Allowing her hands to rest on the bed, she felt a surface much softer than her own bed and an unusual dip to her right. Turning her gaze to the right to find the source of this pressure on the bed The Doll saw Malina lying in the bed, still sound asleep with a slight dribble coming from her mouth.
The Doll had forgotten that she slept in Malina's bed yesterday.
The Doll found her gaze resting on Malina's sleeping form for a reason she didn't understand. Malina wore a set of light pajamas with dark hearts sewn into the design that melded well with her light skin; she must have changed while The Doll slept. Malina's usual twin drill pigtails were gone as Malina's hair cascaded down her back in a wavy form. The Doll found herself thinking that the wavy hair looked rather nice.
Realizing that she was lingering The Doll turned her gaze away from Malina's wavy hair. The Dolls eyes settled on Malina's lips, and a wave of memory cascaded down upon her. The Doll remembered the feeling of those soft lips pressing against her own. The unfamiliar but present feeling that the act invoked in her and the pleasurable pain that shortly followed when Malina bit her.
No, the pain wasn't pleasurable.
What was The Doll thinking?
A heat rose to The Doll's cheeks, causing her to quickly turn her gaze away from Malina, unwilling to face this feeling that was arising within her. Upon pulling her gaze away The Doll’s eyes landed on Malina's desk; the mess of crumpled-up papers seemed to have increased since The Doll last saw it, yet all the papers remained discarded to the side despite the increased amount. Sighing at the sight The Doll walked over to the desk and pulled out the chair so that she could take a seat. She needed a moment to herself so she could think.
The Doll needed to find a way out of this duel; she needed to find the correct answer. The Doll could simply accept the duel and lose, but that would bring great shame to the Ashencroft lineage. Furthermore with how Darius behaved in his duel with Lukaz The Doll feared for her own life. As the thought of what happened to Lukaz yesterday crossed her mind The Doll suddenly felt herself filled with guilt.
Lukaz had nearly died for her yesterday for reasons The Doll couldn't comprehend; he had risked his life in battle that seemed like it wouldn't end. He may have known he wouldn't die because the headmaster would step in to stop such a thing, but the beating he took still must've caused great pain. Why hadn't the headmaster stopped the duel? He should have called the duel concluded long before it reached the point of Lukaz’s near death.
For a moment The Doll allowed herself to think that Lukaz may not have taken that beating for her. Maybe it wasn't entirely her fault but rather the consequence of his own noble pride and unwillingness to lose to someone beneath him. However, as quickly as these thoughts came, Lukaz's words echoed in her ears.
While Lukaz lay there on the dueling grounds battered, he had said, “Someone like you can never touch her.” There was no doubt it was The Doll's fault Lukaz faced that fate in the dueling grounds.
Lukaz only took The Dolls place in that duel because of her inability to use magic because of her weakness. Lukaz only endured that beating, hanging onto a vague hope of victory for The Doll. Everything that happened within that arena tied back to her own incompetence and her inability to properly fulfill the role she was assigned at birth.
The Doll would have to visit him in the nurses' office to wish him better and find out why he had continued the duel for her sake. It was the least she could do to make up for the sin of being too weak to deal with her own problems.
But The Doll didn't have time to think about that right now; she needed to refocus her thoughts back to the matter of finding the right answer for the duel. To remain focused The Doll grabbed one of Malina's crumpled-up papers and unfurled it, intending to write down possible solutions to the duel. Perhaps doing this would allow The Doll to properly focus on the problem at hand without needless distractions invading her thoughts.
The Doll reached over and grabbed Malina's quill, making sure to wet it with ink before bringing it back over the paper. The Doll hovered the quill over the paper, allowing the excess ink to drip for a moment.
As the ink dripped on the paper, The Doll allowed her eyes to wander along the crumpled lines of the paper. The Dolls eyes would eventually reach the bottom of the paper, where she noticed a rather unusual mark on the paper. Upon closer inspection, The Doll realized this mark appeared to resemble the shape of lips.
It was Malina's lipstick pressed against the paper.
The Doll figured Malina must have fallen asleep at her desk while working on whatever she'd been writing, eventually allowing her face to fall against the page. The lipstick she had been wearing had left behind the imprint of her lips.
For some reason The Doll found herself unable to look away from the imprint Malina had left behind while the sound of the quill dropping ink echoed in the background. The Doll never noticed that Malina wore lipstick; it must be a similar tone to what her lips would naturally be colored. Perhaps if The Doll could see color, she would have been able to notice that Malina wore lipstick.
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Staring at the imprint, The Doll found herself wondering if Malina had worn this same lipstick when she kissed her last night. If those soft lips were wearing this same lipstick that The Doll was now staring at on this paper.
Was this lipstick now pressed against her own lips?
Before she could think properly of it The Doll brought her free hand up to her face, intending to brush her finger against her own lips. The quill that was occupying her other hand dropped onto the desk with a clatter as her finger inched closer to her own lips. Yet as The Doll felt her finger begin to graze her own lips, she quickly moved it away, choosing to instead crumple up the paper she had intended to write solutions on, throwing the ball against the desk wall.
In frustration The Doll allowed her head to rest against the top of the desk.
What was wrong with her?
Why couldn’t The Doll focus properly?
The Doll knew that this duel was important; it was a problem that she needed to find the right answer to. Yet every time she tried to focus, she found herself thinking about things that weren't crucial to her situation. The Doll couldn't afford to get distracted like this; the Ashencroft lineages' reputation was on the line.
In an attempt to clear her mind The Doll closed her eyes, hoping that comforting darkness, which rarely betrayed her, would help. Darkness was not what The Doll was met with; instead, she saw Malina's face occupying her place of comfort.
Startled The Doll opened her eyes, shooting her head off the desk.
Immediately looking to her right she saw Malina still lying there on the bed, perfectly asleep with her wavy hair messily resting over her shoulder. The dribble outside of her mouth seemed to have grown since earlier. Her light pajamas clung tightly—
Upon realizing her gaze was once again lingering The Doll looked back towards the desk. The Doll couldn't keep wasting time staring at Malina, but it was clear she was also unable to focus right now. Perhaps the doll was just unable to think properly in a room that wasn't her own; she would reapproach the subject when she was back in her room.
The Doll's thoughts naturally shifted back to Malina once again.
Should she wake Malina up now?
Despite the situation, it would still be unbecoming to simply leave Malina's room without informing her. It would also likely elicit some form of wrath from Malina if The Doll left without informing her. The Doll would have to wait for her to wake up if she didn't take action, wasting even more time.
As The Doll ruminated on waking Malina, she thought back to the dueling grounds, where Malina had used more beams of peirceinum than The Doll had ever imagined to see. Malina then used the other two pinneacels of magic and used her lineage magic to top it off.
Such an act must have been exhausting, and she did it on her request.
With a sigh The Doll decided that she couldn't bring herself to wake Malina up for her own convenience after such a request. The Doll thought about looking at Malina once again but couldn't bring herself to face that strange emotion again. Instead, The Doll inspected the various crumpled-up papers along the desk.
Looking at what she could see among the crumpled papers, a large amount of them were completely blank as if Malina had given up on writing on them shortly after placing them on the desk. However, in the mess The Doll could barely make out a single word etched into one of the pieces of paper.
“Dear”
It appeared to be a letter of some kind that Malina was attempting to write before giving up. The Doll stared at the letter for a while, etching the single word into her mind. The word was clearly written by Malina. The Doll could recognize her handwriting from when they exchanged notes yesterday. There was a temptation for The Doll to unfurl the paper and read what it was Malina had written to find out who she wanted to write to.
The Doll brought her hand over where the crumpled paper lay, hovering slightly over it for only a moment before she quickly brought her hand back to herself.
No, The Doll knew doing such a thing would be both unbecoming and invasive; she would simply ask Malina about it when she awoke.
With that decided The Doll looked away from the mess of papers and instead turned her gaze to the door, looking past Malina. The Doll had no intention of leaving, but the temptation to simply walk out and stop wasting time was strong. But this temptation was always combatted by The Doll imagining Malina's reactions, which in her head typically ranged from enraged to devastated; she never could understand Malina's actions or reactions.
Just like when she kissed her yesterday.
The Doll found her cheeks heating up again as that strange feeling rose up again from the mere thought of Malina's kiss yesterday. Quickly, The Doll attempted to filter all thoughts of Malina out of her head to remove this feeling once again.
Before The Doll could properly filter out the feeling, however, she heard a knock echo throughout the room.
The Doll didn't know what to do? She couldn't simply open the door. How would she explain the situation where she was in Malina's room while Malina was asleep? Perhaps whoever it was would simply leave after one knock.
Another knock echoed throughout the room.
It seemed that The Doll was wrong about the person leaving after one knock, but The Doll decided she would simply ignore it. Malina was asleep, and nobody needed to know. The Doll was present; the person at the door would simply leave after nobody answered. The noise may even wake Malina up, and she could answer the door herself.
Resinging herself to simply waiting out whoever the knocker was, The Doll continued to look at the door as the person on the other side continued to knock.
Knock
Knock
Knock
Knock
The knocks continued to echo throughout the room. The Doll couldn't help but note that this person was very persistent, whoever it may be.
Eventually the knocking did stop, leading The Doll to breathe a sigh of relief.
That was until she heard a voice on the other side of the door. A voice that she knew all too well, a voice she had heard throughout her whole life. It was a cold and cruel voice that made no attempts to mask its tone with any amount of compassion.
This voice said one simple word that sent a shiver down The Doll's spine: “Doll.” The Doll recalled hearing this same cold introduction whenever this voice wished to wake her as a child.
Father's voice.